"Let Down by Both Birth Centre and hospital"

I want to share my experience of giving birth at the FBC and KEMH because it left me physically injured, emotionally distressed, and deeply let down by the system that was meant to support me.

My pregnancy was smooth and low risk, but the prenatal appointments felt repetitive and unhelpful. The same topics were repeated even after I had already made decisions, and I felt that important subjects such as induction, monitoring, pain relief, and what would happen if plans changed were never properly explained.

There also seemed to be disbelief that I could want a water birth as my first preference but a C section as my second. I felt that my preferences were treated as contradictory when they were actually about environments, not interventions. I grew up in the water and it feels like home to me, so a water birth felt like the safest and calmest option. If that was not possible, a C section felt like the next safest choice because it was familiar and predictable in my family. None of this was ever discussed with me and the midwives never explored what made me feel safe.

When my waters broke and contractions did not start, I felt pressured into induction without being allowed to speak to a doctor. When I asked about a C section, the midwife told me I needed to have the baby vaginally if I could, as if it were a rule rather than a discussion. I was not given the chance to consult a doctor. Later, the doctor who delivered my baby told me a C section would likely have been an easier recovery for me, which made it even more upsetting that I was denied a proper consultation.

The transfer to the hospital in the middle of the night was frightening. I had never been there before and no midwife from my continuity of care team accompanied me. My continuity-midwife was not with me for most of my labour because it happened overnight, and I felt alone and unsupported at the exact moment when continuity of care was supposed to matter most. I recall the corridors were dark and confusing and I felt that the hospital midwives were clinical, cold, and communicated poorly. It seemed that basic procedures were not followed. My blood pressure was taken incorrectly, I felt my concerns were dismissed, and my wristband was put on so tightly I could not move my wrist.

Labour was extremely traumatic. I felt pushed into pitocin, monitored continuously without explanation, and unable to move freely. The midwives struggled to find the baby’s heart rate and I felt ignored and unsafe. Internal examinations were rough and distressing.

Throughout labour, I was attached to multiple monitors without explanation of what that would mean for my movement. I did not realise I would be so restricted and essentially confined to the bed. None of this had been explained in any of my midwife appointments. I kept wondering when the monitors would be taken off so I could move, but no one told me and no one offered alternatives or adjustments. Being unexpectedly tethered in this way made me feel trapped, powerless, and completely unprepared.

At one point, after using the gas, I was left cold, shaking, and unsteady with no support from staff. My husband, not the midwives, had to help me back to the bed and we even had to step over the gas tank on the floor to get there. I felt exposed, unsafe, and completely reliant on him instead of the staff who were supposed to be caring for me.

The hospital midwives did not offer any helpful positioning to support progress or comfort. I was left to figure things out myself while in pain, frightened, and attached to monitors. This lack of guidance made the experience even more overwhelming and contributed to how powerless I felt.

Eventually I needed forceps and an episiotomy, which I felt despite the epidural. This left me with injuries, including ongoing vulva and labial discomfort and an extra fold of tissue that causes daily pain and has not been repaired.

The birthing environment itself added to the distress. My birth-partner, my only source of support, was given only one uncomfortable chair. He had to stand for long periods because the chair was so inadequate, leaving him exhausted at a time when I relied on him completely. It felt inconsiderate and dismissive of the essential role a support person plays during labour.

Postnatal care was equally disappointing. Because I gave birth on a Saturday, no physiotherapy, psychology, breastfeeding support, or medical review was available for two days. I was in pain, struggling to breastfeed, and not receiving the help I needed. Upon discharged, my perineum was very red and swollen. I tried to call the hospital physiotherapy department for help, but I was dismissed. I had to go to my private women’s-health-physiotherapist for ultrasound treatment, which gave me relief. My physio was also concerned about how red and swollen the area was.

Because I had stayed in the hospital for a few days, my aftercare midwife visits were reduced from five visits to only two. This made no sense to me, especially given the complications I was experiencing. I felt like I was being given less support simply because I had needed to stay in hospital longer, even though that should have been a reason for more follow up, not less.

Overall, I felt completely let down by the staffing restrictions on nights and weekends, as if births only happen during business hours. The lack of available support during the most critical moments of my labour and recovery made an already traumatic experience even harder.

I have spent money on private physiotherapy and treatment just to recover from injuries that I understand could have been prevented or identified earlier. I still live with physical discomfort and emotional distress from this experience.

I feel profoundly let down by both the FBC and the hospital. I hope sharing this helps improve care for other women so they do not go through what I did.