Dustin and I checked out her cord. It was something else! Really thick, and you could feel it pulsing strongly. Our midwives ducked across the road for dinner, to give us privacy, because I’d opted for a natural third stage. I wanted to let the placenta come on its own if possible. Or at least wait for breastfeeding to be established before having the Synto, because the fake hormone over rides the real one and I didn’t want to risk our bonding time or make breast feeding harder to establish.
We started making phone calls; waking people up on both sides of the rift to share our joy.

Bec and Chris arrived just after the midwives got back. Jackie came in, congratulated us and then left, Sonja could take it from here. Bec came in, but my placenta wasn’t coming out. Sonja was holding the cord, lightly putting resistance on it, and that hurt. She’s like “can you feel it in your bum?” I didn’t think so. It just felt like stomach pain. She started getting the needle ready to inject me with Synto. I passed Isis to Dustin, while Bec cut the cord, and then moved to the shower to try and push. I wasn’t having contractions, but I knew I needed one or two to shake this thing loose. I asked if the homeopathy would work. Sonja came back with some goo in a dropper that was “even better” Let me tell you, it didn’t taste “better” but I wasn’t in a place to complain. It worked though, a few minutes later I could feel the placenta with my fingers (and then I realised how huge it was and that it wasn’t going to “slip out unnoticed” like I’d read in other stories.) and I gave a mighty shove and got it out of there.

There I am, squatting in the bath tub, freshly showered, holding a placenta with both hands. Sonja had advised me to try and pee while I was in the shower if possible. So I did. She needed to know if it burnt, needed to check if I’d torn and needed stiches (I didn’t – yay!) and all that professional type stuff. Anyway, so I shout for Dustin and there he is. “I need a bowl” I say, and showed him the placenta. He comments on how huge it is. I say I’m not sure if it’s in tact and to get Sonja to check. Then I turn my attention to the blood that is pooling around my feet, gushing out of me like there won’t be a tomorrow. There were large chunks too, and at this stage I didn’t know if maybe my placenta deteriorated, or if they were just blood clots. Clots as long as a man’s finger and three times as thick. I was in a bit of a daze, pulling them out of myself and just holding them. There was a lot of blood. I knew I would bleed, you’re supposed to bleed. I tried not to be alarmed, I didn’t want to be one of those silly girls who freaks out over something perfectly fine. My cauliflower had gone back in and everything, so this was probably ok too... right? I don’t think I called Sonja, I think she just knew to come. I told her that I was dizzy and that there seems to be a lot of blood.
“That is a lot of blood” she said, in that way that means “There is too much blood, this isn’t ok”
I was trying to find the words to ask for a glass of water. I suffered a bit of low blood pressure through pregnancy, so my first reaction to being dizzy was to drink. I couldn’t find the words though, couldn’t think properly.
Sonja said to me gently “put those here darling” and pointed to the bathtub beside me. Which is when I realised my hands were full of these fat red slugs. I put them down and tried to stand. “Dizzy” I managed.
I heard Sonja yell for Dustin. I was trying to stand, to climb out of the tub. He was there, I could sense him.
“I can see the lights” I told him. I hoped he remembered what the lights were, and he’d get me some water. The lights come just before I lose my vision. I knew this from the time my blood pressure plummeted at work and I nearly passed out there. I could barely see. He lifted me easily and carried me to the bed. I later learned that Sonja carried my legs, he had my shoulders. There was no time to lay down towels and save the carpet. Dustin was moving so fast he crashed into the bed-side table, unable to stop his momentum. I lost my vision. I knew this was serious. A part of my brain picked up on the fact that if we didn’t stop the bleeding, I would die. I wasn’t afraid I just wanted my little girl. A sandstone wall appeared in front of my eyes. There was a sun engraved on the wall’s surface, its rays like snakes. Weirdness.
I must have been facing the mirror however, my eyes open but unseeing, because I heard Dustin tell me not to watch.
I felt the cold alcohol wipe and then Sonja punched the Synto into my thigh. Punched is exactly the right word too – she wasn’t wasting any time. Then she’s reaching into the squishy emptiness of my belly and squeezing for all she’s worth, crunching my uterus and pulling it down. I cried out in pain then, and my vision came back in flashes. I watched her work to stop the blood flow, my soft belly flesh contorting under her palms, and felt with every scrunch of my tortured uterus more blood surging from my body as the space that contained it became smaller and smaller. Blood pooled beneath me.
My sister, her husband and Isis were in the lounge room, and as I came too, I asked Dustin to let them know I was alright. There had been a lot of yelling, after all. Dustin fed me an up-and-go, one of those breakfast drinks that’s supposed to have the energy and nutrition of two weetbix in milk. And then Sonja was feeding me something else. A small chunk of raw placenta. It was still warm and everything. But if it could keep me out of hospital, I’d take it. Sonja said to me “Don’t let this be the reason you transfer after everything.” I willed myself to stop bleeding.

I wanted my baby back. And I wanted a shower, but the latter wasn’t safe. Sonja asked me to hold off on the shower until the next day, and she wanted to be here for it, just in case. She also told me not to go to the bathroom without Dustin there to assist me and showed me where to squeeze while I waited for help should the bleeding come back with a vengeance. So they sponged me down and changed the absorbent pads I was laying on, and then covered me with towels.
It was only then, wearing a white shirt splattered with my blood, did Sonja weigh and measure Isis. Then fed me more placenta. It was better warm. My daughter was swaddled and back in my arms not long after, but a part of my heart is still resentful I lost that time I could have had with her. I’ll be opting for a managed third stage with my next pregnancy.

Everyone left. The drama was over. It was peaceful. I was so sore, but not really tired all things considered. Dustin cooked us some instant mac and cheese, and saw to our every need. He doted on me, and did most everything for Isis, because I couldn’t move. Literally. I could not roll over or sit up, it was as though I had nothing below my ribs but dead weight. I slept peacefully, Isis in the crook of my arm, safe and triumphant with my husband watching over me.
~Wunjo. Joy. Together we create our family. ~