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Category: Birth Story

Sep 27

Natural Birth Stories | Home Birth | Rebecca W | Birth Story

Caden’s Home Waterbirth

This was my first pregnancy. My “guess date” was Monday. I had a wedding of a close friend to attend that Saturday and joked at the party to everyone that ‘Peanut’ & I had had a discussion and that he/she was going to arrive the next day. I had seen my MW, Lisa, on Friday and had had my membranes stripped. I was currently the chief resident in charge of the gynecology service at a busy inner-city hospital and we had a busy week planned – a week full of long surgeries and although I had prided myself on plowing through 60-80hr work weeks with nary a complaint, the thought of doing another week was almost more than I could handle. We made an appointment for her to come back on Sunday to restrip them again.

At the wedding I did dance a lot, which caused some non-laborish contractions but otherwise nothing to get excited about.

We had a late night and I didn’t sleep all that well. I woke up at 6am with contractions that were uncomfortable but not really painful. I had watery bloody discharge in a fairly large amount and was concerned my water was broken. I was timing contractions at this time and when I had woken up they were about 5-6min apart. I gave up laying in bed about 7am and got up, sitting on an exercise ball, moving my hips during contractions. The contractions persisted and about 8am I decided to call Lisa and let her know that I had somehow managed to make an appointment for my labor! LOL She thought I was just having bloody show and was not ruptured. About 9a I went to pee and there was just more of the discharge than I wanted to clean up, so I decided to get in the shower. The shower was really relaxing and made the contractions seem less intense but still frequent. However, once I got out they became more intense and required more attention. I could no longer sit on the exercise ball during a contraction so I went to kneeling on the floor and leaning over the exercise ball which worked great. Although they hurt more, I still felt in control. I was able to snack in some fruit here and there – luckily I thought to eat a substantial breakfast right when I got up before things got intense – my mom kept me supplied in cut up fruit and water.

Lisa arrived at 11:30a and I asked to be checked – I was 4-5cm, 100% effaced and -1 station! Progress!! Things continued to progress and I asked if we could get the birth pool set up. While they were doing so I got back in the shower for relaxation purposes and had a smaller exercise ball that fit in the tub with me!! Between contractions I’d sit on the ball and during them I’d either be standing with the water running over my belly or bent over with it running over my back. I stayed in there until I started to run out of hot water. Once I got out of the shower, the contractions took on a whole new personality. I then realized I’d have to wait for the birth pool as I’d used up the hot water. However, totally worth it, so I thought at the time.

I came back downstairs and went back to kneeling over the exercise ball. And I think this is where I hit transition – they suddenly got much less manageable, and I was vocalizing through them now. Lisa showed DH how to push on my hips and massage my lower back with some oil she had – they also lightly massaged my shoulders and upper arms, and this was awesome for a while. I think relaxing through this kicked me over into transition and when the birth pool was ready, so was I!

I had two crippling contractions walking up the stairs, then Lisa insisted I try to void before getting in the pool, so I did and had another crippling contraction on the toilet. After that was over I wasted NO TIME and stripped off all of my clothes and basically fell into that pool, which felt AWESOME.

And I credit that awesome pool with helping me to relax that last little bit and take me into the final stretch of transition, because then things became Unmanageable. I’ll be honest, I kind of lost it. I vocalized through some, swore through others, and pleaded/cried through the rest. A few I swear I had an out-of-body experience that made me stare at a spot on the wall and I think I believed that I was, in fact, dying. I did get rechecked at 2pm and was 7cm and now +1 station! Progress!

I thought 2 hrs had passed and asked to be checked again – I told Lisa that I needed to KNOW that I was progressing with contractions like this – Lisa said if I really wanted to, ok, but she needed me to get out of the pool to really get a good check, though. I reluctantly got out and laid on my bed on my side. 8cm. “GODDAMN IT, LISA, THAT’S IT?!?!”

I wanted her to tell me I was complete.

“Uh, Rebecca, it’s only been 45 minutes – you’ve made great progress in that amount of time.”

Forty-five minutes?!?! It felt like ten years.

I cried through a contraction on the bed and got the hell out of there and back into the pool, where I continued to have contractions. I won’t lie – it wasn’t pretty. I asked for people to kill me, and when DH joked “ok,” I punched him. Twice. I begged for an epidural, and I’ll be honest, the only thing that kept me from going to get one was the thought of going anywhere to get it. If I had been in a hospital, I TOTALLY would have caved. And regretted it later. Yet another reason I’m glad I had a HB.

I want to take a moment to give my mother a little credit, too. She is a retired hospital-based midwife and was my doula through the ordeal and was a great source of support. I spent a lot of transition alternating between clinging to her and DH. I remember at one point begging her to help me, and she told me “No one can do this for you, honey. This is your mountain to climb. And you are.”

Not long after that the contractions changed – they seemed to develop a downward force and I was feeling a lot of pressure in my bottom. I voiced this and shortly after Lisa appeared having changed into scrubs and I saw her lay out 3 crocheted baby hats. “Welcome to the second stage, Rebecca.”

More beautiful words were never said. I pushed some with a few contractions and was pissed she couldn’t see the head yet. She knotted a sheet and I played tug-of-war with DH and felt even MORE pressure. I was still upset she couldn’t see the head (I mean, GOSH, I had worked hard for like, 3 whole contractions!) she checked and told me to reach down and feel his head – it was only a short ways in, in OB-speak we would have called it +2-3 station.

And I decided I was done with this labor thing. This child was going to come out, and SOON. The next contraction I pushed hard and felt him crowning. Definitely the ‘ring of fire’ burning sensation everyone talks about. The next contraction I was ready to suck it up and then pushed through that, and his head was out. Evidently the shoulders came out with the head, but I just felt that he was still there. I felt a little panicked, worried that I still had the shoulders in and had a shoulder dystocia. I guess I was just expecting to have the baby pulled out the rest of the way, the way we do in the OB-world. But they were just waiting for another push from me. So I did, and then he was here.

They passed a wet, slippery baby up to me, and I pulled him up to my chest and sat back. He didn’t cry, but was breathing fine and pinked up well! I remember looking up at my team around me, almost in disbelief, saying “Oh my God, I did it. He’s here, I did it.”

It was 4:08pm. Not only did I do it, I had done it in only 10hrs, with only 25 minutes of that pushing!

I was reminded to look down and see what we had – and it was indeed a boy! We didn’t know the gender beforehand, but I had trouble seeing the baby as a girl – although I would have been fine with either. His APGARs were 9 & 10! After a few minutes I felt another contraction and pushed for the placenta. Then his cord was finally clamped and DH got to cut it . I eventually got out of the pool and the damage was assessed – only a few minor tears, just a couple of stitches for cosmetic reasons more than anything else, and we were good to go! I was helped into a quick shower and then tucked into bed. During the shower DH had done skin-to-skin time with the baby, and now it was time for the full newborn assessment – it was cool that DH got to weigh him, and he weighed in at a startling 9 lbs 5 oz!!

The recovery so far has been great! I have some discomfort down below and I feel a little worn out, but no big deal. So far breastfeeding is going great, and little Caden is thriving. So far he’s very laid-back, only seems to cry if he needs something. I like to attribute his chill attitude with being born into water into loving hands, and not spending his first moments being suctioned, rubbed and then tag & branded like cattle by strangers. I love that he doesn’t have a single drug in his little body and take pride that I was able to provide that for him.

And I especially love that I was able to birth my beautiful boy without interventions and can focus more on learning to be a mother than on making it through my own recovery. I’m so glad my spine remains unviolated by an epidural and my bottom wasn’t victim to an episiotomy. I have no hemorrhoids from pushing because I was able to push from an advantageous position and have every push be an effective one. Many hospitals would have stuck my poor baby every hour for a blood sugar value due to his size, even though I had good prenatal care and tested negative for gestational diabetes.

The best part was DH & I spending our first night together with our LO snuggled in our own bed uninterrupted by vital signs and other hospital protocol.

Many of my co-workers were shocked when they found out I delivered at home, but overall I have been pleasantly surprised by most people’s reactions – what can anyone say when we had such a wonderful outcome? I tell them I didn’t expect anyone to understand, so I lied to avoid the unproductive discussions (I had told all of them I was delivering w/my GYN at a nearby hospital). I’m sure that I’ve been the talk of the residency program for the last week, but I don’t care. In fact, a lot of stories have been pretty hilarious!! I have told my coworkers that have visited that it’s a choice I would definitely make again, and it was worth every penny I spent on it!

I remember at my first hypnobirthing class, 15wks pregnant, and my instructor asked every couple to share what they hoped to gain from taking her class. I said, “Well, I really don’t want a c-section, and I really want my birth to be a satisfying experience.”

I’m so happy to be able to say that it was.

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Posted in Birth Stories, Birth Story, Home Birth, Water Birth Birth Center Birth Birth Story Home Birth Home Birth Stories Natural Birth Stories Natural Childbirth Natural Childbirth Story Water Birth

Sep 24

Natural Birth Stories | Birth Center Birth | Jessica W | Birth Story

The Birth of Aerielle Françoise

Throughout this pregnancy, as I read more and more about natural, unmedicated childbirth, I knew that I wanted to write my birth story for others to read. Two of the most influential texts I read in preparation for my first birth experience were “Spiritual Midwifery” and “Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth” both by Ina May Gaskin. Both works contain collections of birth stories that I found to be both inspiring and insightful. Its these stories, combined with the inspirational accounts of my mother’s and sister’s births and topped off with witnessing a dear friend birth her first child that gave me the strength to believe in myself and my body to perform the miracle of childbirth.

Fast forward to the early morning hours of Thursday, June 30th. I woke up sometime around 2:30am with, you guessed it, the urge to go to the bathroom. Since I had just gone no more than 45-minutes ago, I was trying to convince myself to hold it a little longer so I could go back to sleep. While in the process of trying to go back to sleep, I remembered that I needed to bring a few things to work the following day. So, I decided to get up, let out the 15 drops of pee that woke me up, and get out the things I would need for work the next day while it was fresh on my mind. I quickly did my business on the toilet then went into the closet to search for those items.

While standing in the closet, I felt a tiny bit of warm liquid trickle into my panties. I stood there confused for a minute, trying to figure out if I had done anything that would cause more urine to come out. I was pretty sure that I had been just standing there, not laughing, coughing, or jumping, so then I thought how strange it was how suddenly it seemed I lost all bladder control. Hmmmm… Back to the toilet I went, to finish off the job that I clearly didn’t get done the first time around. I noticed that this time around, when I sat down on the toilet, my “pee” came out again without any effort…and kept coming and coming and coming. I finally became suspicious of the volume of liquid that I thought was coming from my bladder and decided to take a closer look. That’s when I realized that it wasn’t urine but amniotic fluid.

I immediately became panicked and called out to Dameone to see if he was awake. Uttering the words “I think my water is leaking” made the situation feel very real and even more frightening. I became acutely aware that very moment that I was exactly 35 weeks and 3 days pregnant and that if this “leak” of my amniotic fluid was severe enough that our baby was going to be born 5 weeks prematurely. While I continued to sit on the toilet, fluid slowly but steadily leaking, Dameone got up to use the other bathroom. I decided to join him in the other room and as soon as I stopped moving around the rest of my amniotic fluid came gushing out. It was literally like someone was standing behind me with a pitcher of water pouring it down between my legs. Now that we knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that my membranes had ruptured, we knew it was time to call Mary, our midwife.

Once we got Mary on the phone, she was just as surprised as we were that my membranes had ruptured. She reconfirmed how far along in my pregnancy I was and uttered the words no birthing center couple wants to hear…”You’re going to need to go to the hospital.” She had this recommendation for several reasons: 1) I was about to be in pre-term labor; 2) the baby’s position was unknown (breech, transverse, or vertex); 3) the approximate size/weight of the baby was unknown; and 4) the results from my Group B Strep test were not back yet. Mary informed us that the hospital would monitor me and the baby, perform a vaginal exam to determine if my cervix was dilating and effacing, and perform some tests to determine the maturity of the baby’s lungs. She told us that we didn’t need to rush to the hospital, but at the same time we didn’t have all night. Mary told me to grab something to eat and drink as much water as I could get into my body because the hospital would forbid both of these actions. By the end of our conversation, I had begun to experience very mild contractions lasting about 20 seconds. They were so mild that I wasn’t even sure that they were contractions!

I decided that I wanted to take a shower, do my hair, and put on some make up. There was NO WAY I was about to let the strangers at the hospital see me looking like a hot mess! I had several mild contractions while I was in the shower and I remembered my Brio Birth teacher, Angie, telling me that real labor contractions will not stop when you take a shower. This further concerned me. I was not ready for my baby to come, I was certain that my baby wasn’t ready to come, and I was no where near ready to accept any part of what was happening.

When I got out of the shower I knew I needed to call my parents. I first tried my mother’s cell phone. Straight to voice mail. I left a message but decided to give the house phone a call. You see, when I was living there, it was standard practice to turn the ringer off overnight so I was quite surprised when my father picked up the phone. I gave him the brief low-down and hung up so I could finish my middle-of-the-night beauty routine while simultaneously trying to help Dameone pack our overnight bag. A few minutes later my mother called back to get the details.

By now it was around 3:30am and I was still in no hurry to get out the door, despite how frantic Dameone was slowly becoming. I chatted Mom up for about 10 minutes, casually mentioning when I was having a contraction. It wasn’t until my mom got very serious with me that I really understood just how quickly things were moving. In our short 10 minute conversation I had at least 3 contractions, maybe as many as 5, making them between 2 and 3 minutes apart. I knew that they were coming fairly quickly but they were still extremely mild so it didn’t really occur to me to hurry up. I hung up with Mom, blow dried and flat ironed my hair, and we were out the door. I was none too pleased that I didn’t have time for makeup.

We left the house at 4:00am, stopped at McDonald’s (the only thing open in Laveen at that hour), and made our way to St. Joseph’s Hospital. My contractions were steady at 2 to 3 minutes apart and only mildly increasing in intensity. The roads were totally empty at that hour so we made the 13-mile drive in great time.

Arrival and check in at St. Joseph’s was easy-peasy. I was brought into Labor & Delivery pre-admittance (or whatever they call it) to be monitored. I opted not to change into the hospital provided gown, a choice that would later benefit me tremendously. Our nurse, Molly, was just awesome. She was super friendly and was very calming. I think she could sense our worry about the pre-term labor. She hooked me up to the fetal monitors and asked us for a copy of our birth plan. We didn’t have a written birth plan! As “birth center clients”, we didn’t exactly need to have our hopes and dreams prepared in outline form. Our midwives, by virtue of their model of care, were on the same page as we were. Many of the things that get included in a traditional hospital birth plan are unnecessary in a birth center environment because those interventions aren’t even available. We told Molly that it never occurred to us to create a hospital birth plan, so we didn’t have one. When she asked us what we wanted, the answer was easy: we did not want a single intervention unless it was to directly save my life or the life of our baby. Molly smiled at us and said “You go it!”

Molly was required to perform a vaginal exam to verify that my membranes had ruptured and to check for cervical dilation/effacement. Much to everyone’s surprise, at 4:45am, I was dilated to 4cm and 100% effaced! My contractions were still coming quickly and by now had become intense enough that I was no longer able to hide the fact that they were coming. When Molly left to page our doctor, Dr. Nichelle Whitehead, she said to me with an abundance of confidence, “You’re going to have a great labor and birth!”

I called Mary (midwife) back to give her the very brief summary of events and it was then, with a heavy heart, that she informed us that we would need to remain at the hospital until our baby was born. After speaking with Dr. Whitehead, Molly returned to advise us that Nichelle would like to speak to us directly. Dameone dialed Nichelle up on her cell phone and spoke to her for a brief moment before handing the phone off to me. This telephone conversation was about to completely change the course of my birth experience.

I really don’t remember much of what Nichelle and I talked about on the phone, but this is what I do remember. I remember her telling me that she had spoken to Molly who reported that both me and the baby were tolerating labor very well. Nichelle said that it had been a pleasure for her to support our family through the prenatal period and she believed that she would be able to successfully continue that support if we wanted to transfer to Blossom Birth Center. At this point in the conversation I was in the middle of an uncomfortable contraction and was adamantly opposed to getting back in the car. I distinctly remember this next part of the conversation, maybe because it was the only part of the conversation that I wasn’t having a contraction. Nichelle said to me “Jessica, Blossom is just a couple of miles down the road. You are not going to go from 4cm to complete (10cm) in a couple of miles. You can get in the car now and be in the birthing tub in a few short minutes.” Man, the thought of getting in the tub hit just the right note with me and I was convinced that we needed to leave the hospital.

I can only assume that Nichelle had previously advised Molly that we would be requesting to leave because when I hung up the phone, Molly came right in. I told her that we were going to go to Blossom and needed to be discharged immediately. It felt like she returned a fraction of a second later with the discharge paperwork all ready for us to sign. Molly unhooked me from all of the monitors, gave the obligatory “you’re leaving against medical advice” speech, then looked me dead in the eyes and said “You go have your baby!” I signed the paperwork and helped Dameone gather our things as quickly as possible before another contraction came. This was where it proved so beneficial that I had opted to remain in my own clothing. I only needed to put on my panties, shorts, and slippers, and we were OUTTA THERE!

We rushed out of the pre-admittance area and back through check-in to wait for the elevator to take us down the 5 floors to the lobby. While we were waiting, I experienced the most intense contraction of my entire labor. I have no idea how long it lasted, but it felt like an eternity. In all actuality, it was probably several contractions, one on top of another. I remember, as this contraction was building up, that one of the elevators opened up with a woman inside carting several trollies of patient charts that occupied all of the space. I remember thinking that we were on the top floor of the building and wondering where she was coming from and why wasn’t she getting out? She just stood there, watching me work through this contraction (that had dropped me to the floor at this point). I was totally thinking “WTF lady?! Let the elevator close so we can call the other one!” She finally let the doors close and Dameone hit the button again. The other elevator showed up like a nano-second later. Of course. Murphy’s Law. The door was being held open for us, but since this was the never ending contraction, the “open door” alarm on the elevator started wailing. Okay, it probably wasn’t wailing, but it sure sounded that way to me! I couldn’t take another second of that annoying noise, so when my gestures to let the door close failed to communicate my wishes, I was left with no other choice but to YELL them out…”LET THE DOOR CLOSE…PLEASE!!” (I’m sure there was some sort of expletive in that little outburst but I conveniently don’t remember that part.)

The contraction from hell finally ended, an empty and quiet elevator showed up, and we ran as fast as we could to the car. The time was approximately 5:45am. Nichelle was absolutely right, Blossom Birth Center was just a couple of miles down the road and we got there very quickly. I was actually afraid that we were going to get there before Nichelle did, but she was there with open arms when we drove up. I had a couple of short, fairly intense contractions on the drive over.

We were whisked away into the Peach Blossom Suite where the tub was filling up. I got undressed and tried to get in the tub, but the water was a bit too hot for me at that point in my labor. I asked Nichelle to cool the water way down but she reminded me that we didn’t have any idea how big the baby was going to be and, if she was born in the water, it needed to be at a nice warm temperature to keep her safe. She agreed to cool it down a little bit, so I waited in a half-squat position just outside of the tub while the cold water was being added. At that moment, my labor took turn that I was absolutely not expecting.

So there I was, naked and half squatting on the bathroom floor, waiting for the water in the tub to cool off to a temperature that was comfortable for me to get into. Nichelle was busy, scurrying around the birth center, gathering the items she would need to attend this birth. When the next contraction came (which was the first contraction I had at Blossom), I suddenly felt the urge to push! I was instantly in a frenzy of panic. I flashed back to my telephone conversation with Nichelle, repeating her words in my mind like a mantra: “You’re not going to go from 4 to complete in a couple of miles. You’re not going to go from 4 to complete in a couple of miles.”. Surely Nichelle was right. She had to be, she’s a DOCTOR! I then flashed to our Brio Birth class and recalled every bit of technical knowledge we had received. I knew that pushing against a cervix that was not completely dilated was a very, very bad thing. I yelled out to Dameone who was just in the bedroom area of the suite: “I NEED TO PUSH!” He was much calmer than I was and I heard him relay the info to Nichelle. My panic caused that and the next couple of contractions to be extremely painful.

Nichelle returned to the bathroom and coaxed me into the tub. Ahhh…liquid bliss. The water was the perfect temperature and it was doing its job of interrupting the pain receptors in my brain. The magic of the water combined with Nichelle’s amazing calming demeanor helped me to relax back into the rhythm of my labor. Nichelle encouraged me to continue following the signs my body was giving me, reminding me that they wouldn’t steer me wrong. My contractions were spaced a few minutes apart now and I was actively pushing my baby into the world. I distinctly remember having the feeling that I was being torn in half…starting at the vagina. I remember thinking that I had heard many women use that phrase to describe the sensation of the pushing stage and also thinking that I didn’t expect it to feel the way that it did. To prevent the ripping apart of my body (okay, I’m exaggerating), I kept trying to suppress the urge to push while my train of thought picked up speed. I recalled a conversation I had with my mother where she told me that when it came to pushing for her, that it actually felt good to push. With that memory now fresh in my mind, I was able to push harder and more effectively. I reached down at one point and could feel the top of my baby’s head coming out of me! Before I knew it, I heard Nichelle tell me that my baby’s head was out. I couldn’t believe it! Then, just like that, her body followed! At 6:42am, MY BABY WAS BORN!

I didn’t quite know what to do with her when she came out. I had thought that handling your own baby was something that was instinctual to a mother, yet there I was completely unsure of how and where to touch her. Once I got a good grip on her, I brought her up to my chest and held her tight. She was so beautiful. So perfect.

Under ordinary circumstances, we would be allowed to relax in the water to get to know each other for a while. Dameone would have been allowed to undress and join us. But, since this was not ordinary circumstances, we had to get right out and dried off to help regulate the baby’s body temperature in the best way possible…chest to chest…skin to skin…mother and baby together. It was really amazing. Not only had the discomfort of labor immediately subsided, but it was like I couldn’t even remember feeling it! I had read and been told a thousand times about the high one gets after birthing a baby the way nature intended and its TRUE! I felt high! Not a medicated kind of high, but a euphoria that was lead with clarity. I have never been more awake and alert in my life. It was such a good feeling.

While Dameone and I were busy enjoying the first moments of our baby’s life, Nichelle was busy helping me control my bleeding. While a certain amount of blood loss is to be expected in a normal birth, it seemed that my uterus was a little tuckered out from sprinting the equivalent of a marathon and after the placenta was born, my uterus decided it was time for a break. Wrong time for a break Little Miss Uterus! Nichelle was amazing. When subtle attempts to “wake up” my uterus didn’t work, she knew it was time to take the necessary measures to prevent me from entering hemorrhage territory. Two shots of Pitocin in the thigh and five pills of Cytotec up my butt later, and I was good to go! Yeah, yeah, yeah…TMI…whatever. The thing is, Nichelle was so careful of how she presented this potential crisis to me and I was never once scared. Quite honestly, she was moving around “down there” so carefully that I was hardly aware that she was there.

Once my bleeding was under control and Aerielle had successfully latched on to my breast, we were left alone to get some rest. Our post-partum assistant, Pam, moved in and out of our room without ever disturbing us. She came in regularly to check Aerielle’s temperature, but more importantly, to check my blood pressure. We needed my blood pressure to stabilize in order for us to be able to go home, but again, both Pam and Nichelle never bothered me with worrying about it. I never once felt the severity of the situation which was a blessing to me. The staff at Blossom Birth Center made a point to preserve this experience for me, knowing that every moment of that day would be forever indelible in my mind.

As the hours passed, we got some rest, ate some food, and continued to process everything that had happened. Nichelle had not performed the official newborn exam on Aerielle yet, so we still didn’t know just how little our little peanut was…but boy did she look, and feel, teenie tiny. The good news was that she was living and breathing just like her full-term counterparts! We couldn’t have been happier. Considering how early she was, we were all expecting some troubles with her breathing or at least ability to regulate her body temperature, but Aerielle continued to prove to us all just how awesome she was.

At around 6:00pm, my blood pressure was at a place where Nichelle felt like it was safe for us to head home, so she completed the newborn exam, showed Dameone how to put a diaper on such a small baby, and helped put the first clothes on our beautiful daughter. (Up until this point, Aerielle had been completely naked…no clothes, no diaper…so that as much of her skin could touch mine and keep her body temperature right where it should be.) Nichelle took all kinds of measurements, but the ones we wanted most are the only ones I paid any attention to…weight and length. Much to our surprise, Aerielle weighed in at a healthy 5lbs 1oz and was 17″ long! Just two more things to add to the list of amazing accomplishments that this baby has already amassed.

Driving home was surreal. As I sat in the backseat with Aerielle, I looked at her in disbelief. Disbelief that she was sitting to my left in the car seat instead of being comfortably tucked up inside my belly. Disbelief that she came into the world as quickly as she had. Disbelief that I had actually been able to set my fears aside which resulted in the water birth that I had been dreaming about. Disbelief that less than 15-hours prior I just was half of a married couple yet now I was the mother of a family…

*This story is also posted on Jessica’s Blog!

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Posted in Birth Center Births, Birth Stories, Birth Story, Water Birth Birth Center Birth Birth Story Natural Birth Stories Natural Childbirth Natural Childbirth Story Water Birth

Sep 23

Natural Birth Stories | Hospital Birth | Julie G | Birth Story

Due date…plus 7 days…

At exactly 4am, I woke up with a start as my water broke in a small rush. No doubt about it…it was baby time! I simply said my husband’s name, “Matt,” as I got up out of bed to run to the bathroom with my hands between my legs (as if that would help with the leaking fluid!). In precisely half a second, Matt went from soundly sleeping in the horizontal to wide awake and vertical. I heard a flurry of activity in the other room while I sat in the bathroom having a contraction. It was just strong enough that it felt like the real thing, but weak enough to forget how much work labor would be!

Barely a couple of minutes later, he appeared in the doorway of the bathroom fully dressed and holding a packed hospital bag in each hand. “Honey, what can I put in the car? The sheets are in the washing machine, and I’m ready to go.” Not that you couldn’t figure it out from that much of the story…but he was very anxious for Zoe’s arrival!

As he loaded up the hospital bag, diaper bag and the few things we had lined up, I had a couple contractions that were 5 minutes apart, and 10 minutes after that. At this point, the past 12 hours came flooding to mind…the literal urge to pee every 2 seconds, and the increased pressure in general. Oh, how everything seems to make sense in hindsight!

We had to drop Ian off at a friend’s house before heading to the hospital. My friend Anna met me outside with her then 10 day old little boy…”This is what you’re working for!” she said smiling. It was actually just what I needed. His precious little face came to mind several times during labor…the reminder that all that pain would result in a beautiful little baby!

Finally on the way to the hospital, I managed a few smiles at Matt’s excited jokes and humor. I still felt in control and like the contractions were very manageable. We swung by Chick-fil-A for him to get breakfast, but they were closed!

When we arrived at the hospital, Matt ran inside to get me a wheelchair and a security guard promptly appeared with one at the curb. Up until that point, I felt excited and that things were moving in a surreal sort of slow motion. It was like a happy bubble of excitement! Then I sat in the wheelchair and he went 110 miles per hour through a crazy maze of hallways to labor and delivery. If I wasn’t in labor when I sat down, I definitely was by the time I got to the triage room!

I had sewn a purple polka dotted nightshirt to wear during labor. The nurse told me that I couldn’t wear it. I started to argue that I wasn’t going to wear a hospital gown, but I got another contraction and it was intense. In that moment, I realized it really didn’t matter what I was wearing, and said a prayer that all the details that actually mattered would fall into place. I surrendered to what really mattered.

By the time Matt met me in the triage room, I was changed and hooked up to the monitors. The contractions were picking up a little bit, and I was trying to retreat in my mind to a relaxed place where pain came and went timelessly, and I could avoid all the feelings that the wires, bright lights and hospital smell evoked. Matt interrupted my trance by pressing something into my cheek. Then, he actually suggested a picture. (I’m a photographer, my husband would NEVER do this usually!).

He had placed a UGA sticker on my cheek!

The nurse was a UGA grad, too. She thought it was soooo cute that I was going to go through labor with a G sticker on my face. “What a trooper!” she patted my back. I was so angry she called me a trooper! I was in labor, and not in the mood for this mess! Get me to my room! What are we doing in here?!

I asked, “Am I going to get admitted?”

The nurse pulled at the growing stack of printouts indicating the peaks of my contractions . She studied them with a furrowed brow and disappeared.

I retreated in my mind again. It was hard for me to focus on what I wanted. The triage room felt claustrophobic. It was too bright. The bed was too hard. I just wanted to know where I could labor. I needed to use the bathroom.

The nurse eventually returned after several more contractions. The swab they had taken of my amniotic fluid was indeed amniotic fluid. (No kidding?). I was to be admitted, finally!

Moving to the labor room was a blur of more frenzied activity. The nurse spoke in too-short sentences, giving me directions where to sit and to be careful. I asked if I could walk around for a minute. “No, your water is broken, so we really need you to sit in the bed. You can’t walk around if your water is broken.”

“I need to use the restroom,” I turned that direction and she hastily grabbed a bedpan. “I’m not using that,” I informed her and closed the door behind me. I heard her explaining to Matt that they didn’t want a baby born in the toilet, so if he could please try to get me to use the bedpan. I smiled as I listened to him explain to her that it was my second baby and he had complete faith I would know when the baby was coming out. He even joked, “She almost had our son on the toilet, but we made it just fine!”

Another big contraction came, and I wanted to be alone with it. A silly thing to think, but I thought…this hurts! I don’t remember labor hurting this much!

The contractions were so painful while I was sitting. I remembered being more comfortable in that position before, and I was confused at how much pain I felt in my tailbone and at the top of my belly. I really wanted the nurse to go away. She was waiting for me…I started to lose control and Matt came to my side and put his hand on my back. Instant relaxation again.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom, the needle was waiting for me. At this point, I was honestly dreading getting an IV more than any of the contractions I’d had. She asked me to tell her when the contraction began waning so she could put it in. I waited through several contractions hoping she would get tired of waiting and go away!

Finally all of the wires and whatever else was all attached, and the nurse presented me with paperwork to fill out…a consent for an epidural. I told her I didn’t want one and she was incredulous. She insisted I fill the paperwork out, because I would want one soon. I pushed the clipboard away. She turned to the door and said she’d be back to check on me later and buzz if I needed anything.

The door closed, and I created my labor space. Lights off, relaxing music on…pillows just so. Oh, and remove monitors…now.

I was now so tired from all of the activity, I tried to get comfortable on the bed, and rested between contractions. Then what seemed like an endless cycle of struggles with the monitors began. One monitor was strapped high at the top of my belly to monitor the strength of the contractions. The other was lower across my hips to monitor Zoe’s heartbeats. I would hold the monitors off my belly during a contraction because it felt unbearable to have it press into my belly on top of a contraction. I removed them and pushed them to the side of the bed. A nurse kept appearing when the monitor was off for “too long,” and I finally resigned myself to the discomfort of them. I decided it was more tolerable to have the monitors on than to see the nurse again. The nurse at least agreed that I only needed to wear the absolutely excruciating blood pressure cuff only once every half hour or so. Every time it went off, the pain cut into my arm and made me want to crawl out of my own skin. Small victory.

My eyes closed and I would feel the contractions build ever stronger. In my mind, I wrapped around the pain and tried to feel it more. I wanted to feel exactly where it was and what it was doing. I only wanted to feel the contraction, and I loosened my grip on the sides of the hospital bed so that I couldn’t feel the tight clenching anymore. I prayed time and time again, “God, please deliver me from this contraction.” It was more faith in knowing that He could at this stage. The contractions were manageable…I was going to have a baby!

I couldn’t really get out of the bed, so I alternated between sitting straight up or leaning forwards over the bed. Matt was beginning to get tired, and I felt his focus shifting from me.

“Honey, you can go lay down. I’ll need you soon. Are you really tired?” His eyes said it all. He went to the other side of the room and laid down. “I’ll need you later. Rest now, I’m ok.”

There I was, alone with my contractions, finally! It was just God, me, and baby Zoe. In my head, I sung her songs. I sang, “____.” When the contractions were growing their strongest, I focused most on relaxing my hands and not clenching my fists…or relaxing my jaw. Here I entered sort of a trance. There was no room, no hospital, nothing…everything was grey and fuzzy until a contraction. Then a contraction would bring small bits of color. For a few moments, I might have the black of rest and sleep in the space between them. I just sat on the bed, and shifted in various sitting positions, in varying levels of awareness of everything around me.

The instructions from the nurse were that because my water had broken, I was to stay in the bed, and not even use the restroom. It was very clear that freely moving about the room, even to stand next to the bed was not acceptable, and perhaps even dangerous?

I continued praying and saying Bible verses. I focused on knowing that God alone was enough for me…I didn’t need anything else. I sat motionless and let the contractions come one after the other. Even in the haze, I felt happy and accomplished. Every contraction was manageable. Baby Zoe would be here soon. “No weapon formed against us shall prosper…all {contractions} that rise against me will fall…” I knew that God was there with me, and wouldn’t let me fall from the pain.

Suddenly, the contractions became more intense. One moment I was repeating and chanting in my head, fuzzy and foggy in awareness, the next moment everything was bright and intense. I felt less capable of knowing the bounds of the pain. In my mind, I tried to feel the contractions strength and ended up jolting out of my trance. It HURT. Suddenly I was aware of Matt sleeping on the other side of the room. Why was he sleeping?!

“MATT!” I yelled at him. He insists that he only heard me one time say, “Matt, I need you now.” Perhaps I was yelling in my head?

Suddenly everything in the room was in sharper focus between contractions. I saw him rub the sleep from his eyes and reach for my hand. I had no idea what I wanted him to do anymore but make the contractions stop. They were too much. I found myself inadvertently making high pitched noises that were on the verge of screaming.

The nurse ended up in the room to check on me. I didn’t need her to check, I knew I was 7cm and entering transition. She looked pleased when she checked, “Wow, you’re doing great. Would you like to know how far you are?” I pulled away from her, “Seven,” I said with finality. “Um. Did someone check you already? You’re right,” she looked completely incredulous and left the room, reassuring me it wouldn’t be much longer until the baby arrived and to call if I needed anything. And, if I needed drugs they could call it in for me and it would be about 30 minutes.

The contractions felt restricted. They would build and build and I would only feel searing pain that was tight, strong, and sharp. Again, I prayed and asked for strength to get through just one contraction at a time.

Nothing was working. Changing positions didn’t work, I was not comfortable anywhere. I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. I felt overwhelmed and like I was drowning in sharp pain. I began to think I couldn’t do it any more, but a still small voice inside said that I was doing the very thing I couldn’t do…that I STILL wasn’t alone. I tried to latch on to that and grab my faith again. Nothing had actually changed. He was still there with me. The song in my head changed to, “You never let go, you never let go…when waters rose and hope had flown oh my soul…ever faithful ever true, you are known, you never let go.” I sang it over and over and over again with every contraction.

Then, I suddenly remembered reading a birth story in Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. The woman had explained how massaging her thighs helped during the peaks of the contractions…and rolling the thighs back and forth brought tremendous relief. It sounded appealing for whatever reason. I told Matt what to do, and it was amazing relief.

During the height of the contraction, I would pull his hand on to my thighs and he would roll my legs back and forth. As the contractions strengthened, I wanted him to lean more of his body weight into my right leg. It felt so much better to feel the muscles in my legs relaxing. He could not push hard enough at times. The contractions grew stronger, but they felt more productive again. Instead of a sharp and piercing pain, I felt her actually moving down. At the same time I felt like my hips were being pulled apart horrendously, there was movement down and out. I focused on feeling the contraction at the very top of my uterus and pushing her down and out…low moans and groans escaped. I urgently needed Matt to keep massaging my leg.

“You never let go, you never let go,” it seemed there was no break at all between contractions. It felt like one long, continuous pulling apart of everything. Then, a convulsive reflex and urge to push snuck up from nowhere. I grunted in surprise and told Matt to call the nurse. “It’s time. NOW.”

I felt like she would come any second, and the nurse walked calmly into the room. I laughed in my head, she asked first how far I was. “It’s time, she’s coming OUT!” I said with more force than I intended.

At some time during this interaction, I heard the beeps of Zoe’s heart rate drop slower and slower. The nurse nudged my belly and said, “Come on, baby,” She told me to roll onto my side, as that often helped restore the heart rate. It was torturous rolling on my side. Matt and the nurse had to almost force me onto my side because it hurt so much to turn. It hurt worse than anything to that point, and Zoe’s heart rate continued to drop. The nurse nudged my belly again, “Come on baby girl,” and called for the doctor. The beeps continued slowing down. Another jolt to my conscious seeing Matt’s face set deep with worry and feeling his hand on mine grow cold. “Fifty,” she said, counting and looking at her watch. I prayed and relaxed, there was nothing else I could do. I was shaking uncontrollably and hurting from being on my side. I pushed the nurse and shifted, and the beeping started to come more quickly. I shifted again more towards my back and I could see the nurse’s face relax.

The urge to push hit me again full strength. “It’s back up to 140 now,” she said…and a prayer of thanks. “Thank you, God,” Matt mouthed.

The midwife appeared and sat at my feet and smiled. He was the first familiar face I had seen so far, and I was relieved to see him. He was completely relaxed and rested his hands gently on his lap. After an exam I barely noticed, he calmly said, “Her head is right there. She’s all ready. Looks like a little red hair. When you’re ready, you can push with a contraction,” it was totally normal and casual. Matt had a little side conversation about where the red hair in our family came from with the nurses. Time stood still for a moment, and there were no contractions at all. I didn’t really feel anything. Everything was fine. A little red head. Where was I? Having a baby! Zoe was coming! I had another urge to push, and I pushed down and grunted while Matt and a nurse held my legs.

I felt the burning sensation of her crowning with the next push. The feeling was no deterrent to how good it felt to push. I felt re-energized and pushed as hard as I could. I unclenched my jaw when I pushed so I could feel the pushes in my lower body, and not the tightening in my neck.

I didn’t feel it, but Matt said the midwife unhooked a loop of the umbilical cord from around her neck and head as she emerged. I felt her head come out and felt utter relief. The wait for the next contraction to push was agonizing. Another push and she was out and on my chest. Everyone was smiling.

A nurse toweled her off and put her on my chest. I cried and tears streamed down my cheeks, “My baby girl! Oh my baby girl! I love you, Zoe!” She let out a half cry on my chest and then quietly adjusted to entering the world and squinted at me with beautiful blue eyes.

I held her but for a moment and handed the warm bundle to my amazing husband. Tears in his eyes, he announced, “My beautiful little girl. I love you so much, Zoe. You are not allowed to date until you are married.” He grabbed the little bulldog that greeted brother’s entrance into the world and kissed me on the forehead. “I love you, Julie, mother of my two little red heads.”

Six and a half hours after my water broke, we gazed into the most beautiful pair of blue eyes staring back at us. This 7 pound, 11 ounce bundle, only 20 inches long, with the slightest fuzz of bright red hair was our beautiful daughter, Zoe Isabelle. Our little life consecrated to God.

More of Julie G’s Birth Journey coming soon!

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Posted in Birth Stories, Hospital Birth

Sep 20

Natural Birth Stories | Home Birth | Alice L | Birth Story

Friday, the DH and I went out to see a movie, The Hangover 2. I was excited to see it because I thought that I would have already given birth by this time – 4 days over my original due date. For some reason I had thought that my daughter would come early. I think a lot of first time moms think that, but our average is much later. During the movie I started having really strong Braxton-Hicks contractions and even some crampy feelings in the lower part of my uterus. A few were so powerful that I thought I might have to leave the theatre. I figured, even if labor was starting I‘d have quite a long time until she was born  and unless my water broke, there was no need to leave the movie early.

I guess what I felt was early labor. The next two days these strong BH contractions continued along with the crampy feelings. DH and I were so eager to meet our daughter that the weekend was tortuous. Actually the past two weeks had been pretty torturous for us. Me 9+ months pregnant and both of us just sitting around watching for any sign that it might be time. As the saying goes: A watched pot never boils and wow it sure seemed like our pot was never going to boil. On Sunday we went grocery shopping for food for us and our birth team. I also took a nice long shower and did all my personal grooming. I think this was intuition that I wouldn‘t be able to do these two normal tasks for a while.

Later that night at 10 o‘clock pm on the dot, my water broke. I was just sitting down to a lovely dinner of fettuccine alfredo, french bread and broccoli. I leaned forward and felt a gush. Just a small one. So I got up and went to the bathroom thinking it might be my mucous plug or my water, but it was such a small amount that I didn‘t put a pad on or anything. I just cleaned up and went back to eating… took one bite and it gushed again. Ok, this was definitely my water breaking. How exciting!!!!! I jumped up and got an absorbent undergarment on and waited to see if contractions would start. They didn‘t. Just that same crampy feeling that I‘d been having all weekend. I called my midwife to give her the heads up that my water was broken and I was going to most likely have a Memorial Day baby and to get herself prepared. She asked what color the water was (clear) and advised me to try to get some rest. So I finished dinner, talked with DH a little bit about how excited we were, and went to bed.

At 4:30am I woke up to a large gush of water and a contraction. No doubt about it, this was the real thing! Finally! I am so excited! I got up and went to the bathroom to clean myself up a bit. I woke up my DH and told him that this was it and that he should get more sleep because it‘s just starting and we probably have a long way to go. I said good morning to the cats and sat down at the computer to make sure my birthing playlist was downloaded to my iPhone and  iPod; one for upstairs and one for downstairs. I had another contraction sitting down and had to stand up. So I went to my birthing ball and bounced on it for a few minutes, then I had another  contraction and had to walk through it. This went on for about 30 more minutes. DH got up at 5:30am and found me walking around and moaning downstairs.

Things started to pick up quickly. These 10 minute apart contractions for an hour were a thing of the past. They started rolling through me every 2-5 minutes and were lasting 60-90 seconds. This happened for half an hour and DH asked if I thought we should call the midwives. I told him that this should be happening for an hour before we call them, and then I had a back to back contraction that doubled me over and had me breathing hard and vocalizing loudly. DH called the midwives. They were on their way with the birthing pool. Yay!

DH was the best birthing partner in the world, I could not have asked for better support. I went into labor land, so he did my rational thinking for me, and thank God he knows me as well as he  does. He suggested I get into our tub upstairs to get through the 45 minutes or so it would take to get the midwives here, so I did. That helped, but it was so hard to sit on the hard surface. I wanted that birthing pool. I would thrash around during the contractions that were still hitting me every couple of minutes with very little break between them. We were both thinking, ‘is this transition already??!’ Well it wasn‘t quite, but it was close. I had been dilated to 2-3cm at my last prenatal, and when the midwives showed up at 7:30am I was at 7cm.

I was relieved to know I was already at 7cm and then came transition. My midwife didn‘t know if we should even bother with the birthing pool since it usually takes a while to fill it and I  seemed to be progressing really quickly, but I wanted it. We had turned the hot water heater up the day before (another task done on our intuitive ‘let‘s get ready‘ Sunday) so the tub was full in 30 minutes. I was elated to get in. I though it would take the pain away; it didn‘t. But it sure did help A LOT. I spent almost the entire time in the tub. It was soft, and I fit into it well and I could hang over the padded sides and the bottom was padded.

Ok, now we‘re ready to have a baby – and it HURTS! Not only does it hurt, but it is insanely intense. The powerful waves of pressure and pain flowing through my body was scary.  This was the most powerful force of nature I had ever experienced. Stronger than the crazy thunderstorms that one is compelled to open the windows and feel. Stronger than the riptide in the ocean. Stronger than the stagnant heat of a blazing hot and humid summer day with no breeze when you can‘t quite catch a full breath of air. I wanted to resist in every way I could. I tried to convince everyone including myself that I just needed a break. I would get maybe  4 deep breaths and then another double peaked contraction would hit me for 3 minutes. I bellowed. I screamed. Ryan told me to keep my tones low and take deep breaths. I was on my knees holding his hands and pulling them with all my strength to brace for the pain (we were both sore in the upper bodies for days afterwards). I told everyone I couldn‘t do it. They told me that I was doing it. I told them to “get it out!” they told me that I am getting her out. I asked  them how much longer it would take, they told me as long as it takes. I only swore twice which we found interesting because sometimes I can curse like a sailor. I pleaded with one of my midwives that I couldn‘t do this much longer. She reminded me that I was in transition and that I was close to meeting my baby. That perked me up. Oh, ok, right. This is transition… I get to push her out next and that means we are almost there!

I spontaneously started pushing around 10am. The midwives could tell from the sounds I was making. I was a very vocal laborer. DH heard them comment that I was going to push this baby out in 20 minutes. I pushed for about 30 minutes before one of the midwives suggested I get out and get checked to make sure I was all the way dilated. This was torture. I didn‘t want to get out of the tub, but I did. Sure enough, I‘m dilated to 10. Green light for pushing. So push I did. And I pushed. and I pushed. and I pushed. I pushed into the pain. I pushed with sound and without sound. I pushed until I thought I was bursting blood vessels in my face. This went on for  2 hours. I begged them to get her out of me. I asked why she wasn‘t coming out and how many more pushes it would be. “As many as it takes.” was the usual answer… sometimes, “one less  now”.

After 2 hours of pushing and progress, but slow progress, my midwife suggested that I try another position, a reclining squat, to get her head past the pubic bone; as that‘s where she seemed to be stuck. The idea of getting out of the pool was absolutely horrific to me, so I got into a squat in the pool leaning back into DH‘s arms. She started moving down more with the pushes. I started pushing 2-3 times per contraction. ‘This was going to happen’ I kept telling myself. It’s time for this to be OVER. I don‘t care how bad it hurts, I want it to be done.

She came down a little more and I thought her head was almost crowning. It was starting to be seen externally. The medical bags came out and the sterile gloves were on. That was so encouraging for me to see. Ok, we‘re almost there! I pushed a few more times and thought her head was out, it wasn‘t. They put a mirror and a light into the pool so DH and I could see we were so close. He watched, I didn‘t. Finally I felt a stinging sensation in addition to the feeling of pooping out a boulder. The ring of fire! It wasn‘t even that bad compared to the rest of it. I waited for the next contraction to let the tissue stretch. I pushed again and her head came out further. I waited for another contraction. These waiting times were mostly me trying to not hyperventilate and panic and push anyway. I finally pushed her head out. OH THANK GOODNESS! I waited for another contraction and I pushed her shoulders out and the rest of her slipped out into the water. The pain was gone. She was out. I was so relieved that it was over and that I had made it through.

The midwives picked her up and put her on my chest. She looked at me totally calm and alert. I could barely believe it was over and that I had birthed a baby. WOW. I looked into her eyes and she looked into mine. A total, absolutely pure love at first sight. I am still staring into her eyes with complete adoration. I feel blessed to be this baby‘s mother. I feel blessed to have this family that I now have. My entire structure of priorities in life has changed instantly.

She had come out with a military presentation with her head twisted to the left. A very difficult presentation to deliver that can mean emergency cesarean sometimes. I had one small first degree tear that I did not get stitches for. All in all, a very uneventful birth. But for me it was a miracle. I had done it. I was almost in disbelief that I had actually birthed a human being out of my body, but there she was, perfect in every way, my daughter.

Ayla Jane Kathryn

May 2011, 12:37 PM

Born at home in the water
41 weeks
APGAR scores 9 and 10
9 pounds, 2 ounces
20.5 inches long
14 inch circumference head

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Posted in Birth Story, Home Birth, Water Birth Birth Story Home Birth Home Birth Stories Natural Birth Stories Natural Childbirth Natural Childbirth Story Water Birth

Sep 19

Natural Birth Stories | Hospital Birth | Emily C | Birth Story

Since about 37 weeks, I’d been in occasional prodromal labor, experiencing regular, weak contractions for several hours at a time. After a few weeks, I realized things always picked up on Fridays and then relaxed again by Monday. Jokingly I’d predicted June liked Fridays for birthdays (and Eleanor was born on a Friday as well) but I think actually my body liked them — I knew I had the weekend to relax and Jeff would be close by, and that confidence is what seems to lead to labor for me. I was also thinking Labor Day would be a fun day to have her — coincidentally, I spent most of Labor Day in prodromal labor, but didn’t wind up at the hospital. She was taking her time. My brother Devan asked me on the Tuesday after Labor Day, “What’s up with June?” and I told him, I think she’s coming on Friday. I just had a feeling. I was right!

On Friday morning at 9, I had an appointment with the midwife. It was another Non-Stress Test, and once again it was a relaxing and reassuring experience. Eleanor had been sick but she behaved very well and we sat peacefully in the examining room listening to June’s heart for a half hour. She looked great, passed with flying colors. Then Missy (my midwife) checked my dilation — 4 and a half centimeters!! I couldn’t believe it — that’s where I was when I arrived at the hospital with Eleanor! It felt great to have all that work behind me. I went home pretty confident that the birth would be soon — and quick. As soon as I got home I ate a huge helping of chicken enchiladas because I felt like I needed the energy sooner than later. But alas, no contractions.

Around noon my friend Danielle called and asked if I wanted to go swimming at her community pool — I said No, I’d rather go walking, I’m ready to get this show on the road !! So she offered to come over and push Eleanor in the stroller and give me some company while we walked. She came right over and off we went — cruising around the neighborhood, which is right beside the breezy marsh and it’s very shady, so the temperature was perfect and we walked for about 3.5 miles. I felt great and noticed a couple of contractions here and there, but nothing big and certainly not anything like the strong prodromal labor I’d had in the past. We got back to the house after 2 and just sat around talking. It was really relaxing just to chill out and Eleanor needed some downtime anyways since she’d been sick. Around 3 I started noticing a contraction here and there, and they seemed to be getting more regular. Pretty weak though. I was a little disappointed that things had not really taken off so I kinda tried to ignore these so I wouldn’t get all worked up over more practice labor. But after a half hour or so, they seemed to be coming pretty regularly so Danielle started timing them with my iPhone app. Suddenly I had a little motivation to stay focused on my progress and so I did little things I know to help stimulate labor. The contractions were coming every 2-3 minutes! So close!! But so weak, really. Over the next two hours, I paced and rolled on the birth ball and guzzled raspberry leaf tea. It seemed like if I sat down, things totally stopped so I stayed on my feet to keep it going. I put on my “energy” labor soundtrack and my daughter and I danced our way through contractions. After a while I realized they were taking a little more focus to relax through, and I needed Danielle to apply pressure to my sacrum to stay comfortable. It occurred to me — this is it! That was around 5. Danielle sent a text to Jeff letting him know that he should head home. (Right at quittin’ time anyways, how convenient!)

Fifteen minutes later, Jeff called to say he was on his way. I was like “What? You should be home by now!” because things were starting to get more intense. Not painful, I just knew already that I was going to go fast so I wanted him there soon. He did get home quick, and as soon as he did he began gathering the last bit of packing for the hospital. We were all really happy and excited and it seemed almost like a party, with the music snacks and the light atmosphere. Jeff called his sister Gena to come over, because she was the one who would take care of Eleanor while we were at the hospital. I told Jeff to call the midwife to let her know we’d be heading to the hospital sometime that night … and about 5 minutes later I told him to call her back and tell her we were heading there NOW and to get Gena over here NOW too. He was like “Really!?” and I was like “Yeah, think so!” it was surprising because it just happened so quickly — but I knew then that we were having a baby very soon and I wanted to get to the hospital. Contractions were still very manageable but it took more focus than I could give it at home with all the distractions. I spent most of them on my hands and knees, hanging my head and sagging my belly and getting my lower back rubbed by Danielle or Jeff. They were still really frequent and I wondered if I was further along than I felt.

Gena seemed to get to our house immediately and then Jeff and Danielle started loading up the car. I spent a moment with Eleanor and gave Gena a few last minute instructions. Jeff had to look for the keys for a while…Then we were off!

We called both our parents in the car, but had to get off the phone quickly. I was still contracting and it was not so easy to manage them in the car. I sat in the passenger seat turned around backwards, leaning on the headrest. The sensations were strong but I welcomed them, and in between Jeff and I spent a few moments just being quiet and excited and feeling really positive about what we were about to experience. It was about 7:15 when we got to the hospital. The nurse said “you look way too happy to be so far along!” and I said “I’m really happy to be here right now!” because getting out of the car had been such a relief, and I didn’t have to think about transferring any more. My midwife was there and it was so good to see a familiar face. She got the nurses to let us skip triage because of how far I’d been dilated that morning. Yet another relief — I got to go straight to my room!

The nurses started to go through the standard procedures — put on this gown, get ready for your IV, etc so I got to give them the quickest possible rundown of our birth plan — that I’d like to avoid all interventions if possible. And please let me get in the tub!! Missy checked me and told me I was 7 centimeters, so I was definitely, definitely having a baby soon. We still had to complete the initial 20 minute strip on the fetal monitor though. The belt was strapped around my belly but since I was moving around to manage contractions, June kept moving too, and her heart rate would get muffled or lost in the process, causing the 20 minutes to have to be started over. My midwife solved the problem by holding the monitor on with her hands so she could move around with me and get it repositioned immediately should we lose June’s heart rate. We wound up kind of slow dancing, me leaning on her and she holding the monitor to my belly, with Jeff behind me applying sacral pressure. It was a three-person slow dance to the “calm” birth soundtrack that Jeff had put on. Very relaxing.

Monitoring seemed to take forever, and suddenly I really needed to lay down, or MOVE, or something. I got a little panicky and leaned on Jeff, telling him I wanted to run away, that I wanted to be done already. It seemed too soon for me to be going through transition, but that’s exactly what was happening — I started shaking and vomiting — but really in between I felt ok, and even had a sense of humor about it. “Hello, carrots! Fancy meeting you here…” All the adrenaline was working its way to June though, and her heart rate became elevated beyond what the medical staff was comfortable with. As I rested between contractions, I asked what was taking so long, and my midwife explained that if we couldn’t get June’s heart to settle down, that it would become important to deliver her quickly; that the elevated rate was a sign that she may be in distress. She mentioned breaking my water and Jeff kinda gave her the death stare, like “No way, no how” because he knew from my last birth that once the bag broke it Got Real.

Just then, a summery, sexy samba floated through the air and I kinda got tickled because with the sunset over the intercostal waterway and music it seemed like we should be having a romantic dinner or something. Jeff leaned down and gave me a very unexpected, very demonstrative kiss and Bam, June’s heart rate dropped into the normal zone for 10 seconds or so. The midwife noticed and said “Hey, that’s great! Keep going!” so he did, we kissed for 10 or 15 minutes and watched June become more relaxed (and me, too) until we had a good, solid monitor strip showing that she was not in distress and handling labor well. It was like magic. And then I FINALLY got to get in the tub.

As I laid down in the water, relief washed over me and I said “Thank you God!” and Jeff said a prayer for our family. At this point in Eleanor’s labor, I was super relaxed and kinda out of it, but this time, I was much more In the Moment and wasn’t trying to escape or anything. I wasn’t as relaxed and was therefore experiencing stronger sensations — because I was more focused on bringing the baby out. When I contracted, I would say “Yes” or “Open Open Open” and “Come, baby” and visualize my body opening and her moving down. Jeff read visualizations that had to do with melting, and every time he said “surrender” or “melt” I would feel SO relaxed and ready and open, all the pain would melt into only feeling closer and closer to meeting my baby. Things started to space out here and it seemed like, although my contractions were getting stronger and stronger, that they were slowing down. Jeff said quietly “I think she’s just going to take longer than Eleanor, but that’s ok, there’s nothing wrong with that” and it made me feel good to know that he was in for the long haul. Simultaneously though, I started having a pushy feeling and I was thinking she was going to be here really soon! I started feeling my hips spread open and wondered how close she was.

I told Missy I was feeling a little bit like pushing and she suggested I stay in the tub until I really felt it. A couple more contractions and I was pushing in the water, couldn’t help it. Then POP went my water, just like with Eleanor, right as I was starting to push. My eyes were closed so I just said “That’s it, my water broke — is it clear???” I was almost afraid to look. Then I did open my eyes and see that it was clear, and there wasn’t a cord prolapse, and all those last minute worries finally dissipated. I realized we really were going to have a healthy baby VERY soon and I felt my whole body relax. I said “Praise the Lord!!!” and got out of the tub. Put on my gown and got on the bed, I was on my knees and leaning against the back part of the bed which was raised. Right then I had a hard core pushing contraction and started vocalizing in grunts and roars. My midwife checked me and only said “You’re doing great, just do what your body tells you to do” and the nurse asked if I was complete and she barely murmured “oh, yeah, she’s ready” which made me feel so good that Missy was so totally confident in me that she felt no need to alert the presses that I was “ready.”

Missy knew I had experienced a pretty bad tear with my first and we’d talked about ways to avoid that this time. She had set the bed up special for me, I laid on my side and a lower part of the bed dropped down a few inches to give my hips room to spread. Jeff held my other leg high in the air and it really felt like my affirmation said “there is a wide open path for my baby to descend, there is nothing in the way.” My contractions had spaced out and I was feeling really good in between them. The pain was over and I felt only power and surrender, and in a couple of pushes I could feel that she was very close. Missy told me to reach down and feel her head and that was the BEST feeling, just knowing how close I was to meeting her and accomplishing this huge feat. I just kept my hand on her head and relaxed, and smiled and Jeff and said “this is Easy! She’s almost here!!”

Missy told me to relax through the pushy feeling and just ease her down with my breath. She told me there was no rush and June would be here soon; then I felt the Ring of Fire (which I never felt with Eleanor, didn’t stretch with her — just tore!) and in another second her head was out. Jeff said “I can see her face, she’s beautiful!” then Missy worked with her shoulder for a second which seemed to be a little stuck, then said to me “Reach down and pull out your baby!” which I did, and it was the most exhilarating moment of my life … and June was born at 9:13 pm. I pulled her to my side and listened to her loud cry, felt her tiny body against mine, and laughed and cried with complete joy. After only two hours of hard work, I had a brand new Love of My Life. I am blessed beyond belief. My perfect birth.

The nurses didn’t take her to measure for a few hours, I had the entire time to hold her. With Eleanor, I had to be stitched up for a while and had to watch (agonizingly!) as Jeff held our baby. This time I wouldn’t let her go except for a couple minutes so Jeff could meet her.

Amazingly, I only needed two stitches; and was able to walk myself out of the room to the wheelchair in the hall. I felt SO GOOD, a smile a mile wide plastered on my face. It was a totally amazing experience from beginning to end, and I imagine myself back there every day just to keep the memories clear. I look at June and I’m so proud of what we did together; and marvel at how our bodies were so connected that my emotion could control her heart beat. Birth really is an everyday miracle.

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Sep 12

Natural Birth Stories | Birth Center Birth | Brittany C | Birth Story

By Saturday morning, I had fully convinced myself I had several weeks left before my daughter was going to be born.

It was a survival mechanism, really; I was miserable, waiting for her and wanting her to be here.

So I told myself to try and find some patience and just enjoy myself. The hubs and I made grand plans for a fun Saturday at – where else? – Costco, to stock up on all the bulk foods we’d need before Ella was born, plus he was treating me to hot and spicy lunch of my favorite, Thai food.

I was actually really excited. What can I say? I love me some bulk foods and Asian fusion cuisine.

Which is why, when I woke up that morning, I attributed my quick, excited rise from the bed, plus my 38-week pregnant body, as the reason I seemed to pee myself.

I literally spilled liquid on the bed.

I was shocked. And then, I remembered that the midwives had me inserting evening primrose oil vaginally for the last two weeks, and, well, there was bound to be some residual fluid, I thought.

So, I ignored it. I started making breakfast, actually.

Occasionally, I’d bend over and feel another trickle. Or I’d reach for a pot and feel a small gush.

And, as silly as it sounds, I kept writing it off. In fact, I just thought I was finally losing all bladder control.

So I changed my underwear. And I changed them again.

I was finally on my third pair when my husband told me a joke and made me laugh, resulting in a small gush of fluid that soaked through my yoga pants and onto our couch.

I ran to the bathroom, ready to change my underwear yet again.

Then I realized how clear and odor-less the fluid was that had left my body.

It definitely wasn’t pee. It definitely wasn’t discharge. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it was flowing enough for me to begin to question it. Finally.

So, being of sound mind and all – and still totally convinced I had a few weeks before I could expect to feel the tell-tale contractions signifying real labor – I called my mother and a few friends.

I asked them exactly what I should expect with a loss of amniotic fluid.

They all immediately talked me into calling the people I should have all along: my midwives.

I felt horrible; it was a Saturday, after all, and I was pulling one of these women away from family. I just knew it.

But the on-call midwife wouldn’t even think of letting me “wait and see,” as I suggested on the phone with her, and she had the hubs and me come on in to the birth center to be examined.

Once there, she had me lay down on the exam table to ”have a look.”

But before I even got on my back, I’d soaked through the table’s covering cloth, and in her words, ”Well, I don’t even need to look at that. That’s amniotic fluid. You’re in labor, whether your body knows it or not.”

We were able to ascertain I was having regular, albeit rather weak contractions, but being that active labor needs to start within 24 hours of one’s membrane rupturing (per natural midwifery standards – doctor and hospital standards are quite different when it comes to this) she set up a plan for my Saturday.

And it definitely didn’t involve Costco and Thai food.

***

The midwife sent us home, where I immediately started taking a black cohosh supplement, along with what my midwives call a “natural induction cocktail” – 1 cup of champagne, I cup of apricot nectar, 4 tablespoons of almond butter, and 4 ounces of castor oil. (Note: Do not take this unless you are told to by a health practitioner. My midwives pointed out that not all women have a “favorable cervix” for the cocktail, and even if they did, they really only use this recipe when a woman’s water breaks before active labor starts.)

Luckily, for me, within 10 minutes of taking a long walk with the hubs and drinking the odd-but-not-unpleasant-tasting cocktail, I could feel my contractions.

I didn’t even have time to take the midwife-prescribed nap before I was having to work through them.

They weren’t bad, but they were immediately lasting over a minute long each and quickly went from eight minutes apart to six minutes apart to four minutes apart.

Meanwhile, my mother and one of my best friends were speeding up from Florida, trying to make it to us in time for the birth.

I was naked before I knew it, pacing about our house, stopping and rocking on all fours or on the birthing ball, low-moaning through them like I’d been taught in my birthing class.

I felt the contractions mostly in my back and tail-bone – their was nothing abdominal about them at all, much to my surprise. It was at this point that I realized I wasn’t going to rest until my daughter was here; laying down was excruciating.

Finally, I got in our shower. I’d lay limp in the hot water during my rest periods and then squat and move during contractions, grunting.

My contractions were now less than two minutes apart and had been for quite a while. I was able to talk during the breaks, but I won’t lie; the contractions hurt. I had to focus in order to make it through each one.

My mom and friend arrived around 9:30 that night, and I was definitely feeling the now very active labor.

They helped me get dressed, loaded the car with the hubs, and we all headed toward the birth center after calling the midwife.

It was time to have this baby.

***

We arrived, unloaded, and the midwife checked me.

I was only four centimeters dilated, but I was completely effaced and the baby was super low.

Disappointed I’d only progressed to four centimeters, I hopped up and began to walk; I wanted to get that baby out.

When I couldn’t walk outside anymore, I got in their shower. Then they brought the birthing ball into the shower, and I rolled there for a while.

I was six centimeters within the hour, and things were starting to really get to me.

I was on all fours on the bed, rolling my upper body on the birthing ball. I was lunging on the bed – one foot up, one foot down. I was squatting, and my friend was slowly pressing on my sacrum while I did so. I was grunting and moaning deep and low, trying to loosen up my sphincters to allow myself to progress.

Still, at this point, I started to struggle to relax. Occasionally, my grunts would turn to whimpers. I’d cry out once in a while. It hurt, plain and simple. And it was starting to take over.

My midwife, who very calmly remained there but let me do my thing, got in my face a few times when she heard me start to lose it and reminded me to work through them; that this was my body doing good work.

Still, I was having trouble remaining open to it.

So I asked to get in the birthing tub.

In that moment, my whole world changed.

My contractions got worse, but I was able to drift away in between them and focus on being open and letting the baby come down and out.

The hubs was in the tub with me, and I leaned against him between contractions and literally spaced off at times.

I quickly made it to nine centimeters.

My midwife was satisfied, and everyone got a bit more excited because the end was in sight.

Everyone except me, that is.

I, meanwhile, was in what my friend called a “birth trance.”

I really remember very little of what happened at this point.

My mom said I was literally ”staring through people, walls, everything.”

When a contraction would hit, I’d move, squat, grip the side of the tub, bear down, and do a whole host of random things I was unaware of. In between, I’d lie limp on my husband.

I quickly made it to almost 10 centimeters and was in a whole other planet getting there.

It was, hands down, one of the most bizarre, out-of-body experiences ever. I came to just enough to hold still so the midwife could help push back the top lip of my cervix during a contraction. That, frankly, was one of the worst part of the whole experiences. But that was one of the only things I remember from this point on.

It was over quickly, and I was complete. I was ready to push.

The first few minutes of pushing were scary for me. I remember thinking, ”I cannot do this. I don’t know how to do this. How in the heck am I going to do this?”

My mom, who knows me better than anyone, said she saw that look come over my face, too.

In other words, I looked and felt terrified.

I was completely scared to push. I even thought to myself, ”Do I have to? I’m just so tired.”

I was clearly not being rational, and so, my first few pushes were feeble.

I was leaning back against the hubs and pushing aimlessly. It still hurt all in my back and tailbone to bear down like that, and I felt like I was fighting a losing battle.

I came to enough to ask the midwife if I could flip over. On all fours, it all felt much more manageable. I could push stronger, and I then began, in my own head, to talk myself through each contraction and its resulting pushes.

Meanwhile, in between contractions, I began to fall asleep.

Literally, I dozed off. Furthermore, I had dreams. Dreams that had nothing to do with birth or my baby or anything infant-related.

I’d come to, push and grunt, and then pass out on my husband and dream senseless dreams yet again.

It was insane – I’d read pregnant women did that during un-medicated childbirth, but I’d never thought it would happen to me – and looking back on it, I am immensely glad it did. It was definitely my way of coping.

At one point, I’d been pushing for about 35 minutes, and I fell into such a deep slumber that, when I woke up, I startled, not knowing where I was, who I was, and what the heck I was doing.

I thrashed in the tub – my husband had to duck – and I flipped back over on my butt, leaning against him.

The midwife quickly grabbed me and told me to push, and again, I bear-ed down, but I don’t remember it. My mom told me later that, after the contraction, I’d yelled out, ”I fell asleep,” like I was embarrassed.

Luckily, though, that was the turning point for me.

I continued to push for 10 more minutes. I knew I was close. I could pick up on the tones of the midwife and my mom and friend that they could see the baby’s head, and I could feel the stretching as she crowned.

Still, I was so out of it that, when the midwife told me to touch her head, apparently I told her, ”I can’t. I can’t.”

I just kept pushing. The only thing I remember is my midwife telling me to stop, so she could check that the baby didn’t have the cord wrapped around her neck.

Ella was a good baby the whole time. She didn’t, and we continued; we were so close.

The last five minutes I completely blanked out. I don’t remember pushing her head out at all. I remember the burning – the infamous “ring of fire” all women talk about – and apparently, I looked at my friend at one point and yelped, ”It’s burning!” But other than that, I don’t remember her head emerging or the rest of her body.

I came to when everyone started yelling in joy, and I looked down – literally in shock – to find myself holding a baby.

Our baby.

Our little Ella.

Then, little pieces of the room started coming back to me: My husband, bawling and holding both Ella and I; my mom and friend, crying and snapping photos, and the midwife, who had literally touched her as she came out underwater and scooped her right up into my arms, apparently, silently beaming.

I peeked between her legs, mostly to ascertain that she was, indeed, a little girl. (We actually never got a 100-percent guarantee of her gender on the ultrasound, so I always had reservations that I might be raising a little boy in a lot of pink onesies.)

And then, we were just there, in the tub, Ella crying and my husband and I staring at her.

Our new little family, now completed by a 7 pound, 0.5 ounce little girl born at 4 a.m.

***

Afterwards, things moved really quickly. After her cord blood stopped pulsing, the hubs cut the cord, and he took Ella up against his bare chest to warm her while they got me out of the tub and onto the bed to deliver the placenta.

I had what seemed to be uncontrollable shakes – a normal aftermath of delivery, especially natural delivery, I’m told – but within minutes, I’d pushed out the placenta, been covered in a warm blanket, and had the baby placed back on my chest.

I felt a thousand pounds lighter.

The pokes and prods by the midwife – checking all my business – felt like next to nothing. The nurse taking my blood pressure and the baby’s temperature I barely noticed.

I was simply staring at my daughter, enthralled.

I was in absolute shock that she was ours, to keep. That, less than 24 hours before, I’d awoken, nowhere even near considering I’d have a baby that day.

It was like a dream – a crazy, happy dream that we’d somehow made our reality, and I’d yet to figure out how.

-Brittany C

Brittany is a former high-school teacher, who now works as a personal/fitness trainer and freelance writer. She’s been married for almost three years to a sailor in the U.S. Navy. This story was also featured on her blog, which you can find at http://www.brittsbeat.com/.

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Focus on Birth is a growing resource for expectant moms wanting a natural unmedicated childbirth. Our goal is to provide woman with birth stories and photos to help encourage them through their natural childbirth process. If you are interested in learning more or sharing your story, please email info@focusonbirth.com. Photos courtesy of Brittany C.

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Posted in Birth Center Births, Birth Story, Water Birth Birth Center Birth Birth Story Natural Birth Stories Natural Childbirth Story

Sep 03

Natural Birth Stories | Birth Center Birth | Amanda D | Birth Story

MICHAEL’S BIRTH STORY

Tuesday

Joe and I went in for an appointment. Since we were 41 weeks along on that day they had to do a few tests. They started with hooking me up to the monitor for a Non-Stress Test. Once that was finished, they did a quick ultrasound to make sure Michael had enough fluid. They said that anything above a 6 is good and I was at a 10 (not sure how they measure but I figure 4 points higher than 6 had to be good!). Rita (the Midwife) checked me and found that I was 3cm dilated. I was quite floored since I hadn’t felt any pain up to this point. Yes…braxton hicks here and there but nothing painful. So I was very excited to learn that I have earned myself 3 free centimeters! We were close there was no doubt but we didn’t know how close just yet. Rita gave us some advice on how to get things moving along. Sex was at the top of her list! She said, “Go home and have sex!”

“We did that last night though,” I said.

“Do it again… and once more. I mean once the baby comes it will be a while until you get the chance to do it so take advantage now,” Rita explained.

“Oh,” was all that came out of my mouth while Joe was sitting there winking at me. What a Geep.

She also said to eat something that will upset my stomach.

“So let me get this straight… you want me to eat crap food for dinner?” I asked.

“Yup pretty much,” said Rita.

Joe chimed in with his big grin… “McDonalds it is then!”

So we went on our way back to Beaufort. Yes, we had crap food that night for dinner and I made sure to eat all my fries, but my stomach cooperated with me and didn’t get upset. Ugh…now I just had a bunch of calories that were unnecessary! So we went to bed that night and I had a great nights sleep. (Probably to prepare for what was about to come…)

Wednesday

Joe went to work that morning and left around 7am. I laid in bed for a little while after he left. I then started feeling twinges in my lower abdomen around 8am. They felt a little like menstrual cramps but they were different! Finally I thought this could be it! They were mild as first, I felt them grow to a peak, and then they tapered off and I was pain free. I thought for sure these were contractions (contrx). So I started to time them. They were only 10 minutes apart (give or take). So it was early and we had some time!

9:00am

I called Joe and made him come home. I was home alone and didn’t really want to do this all by myself. I then called Mom and she hopped in the car to head this way very shortly after the call. With her 5 hours away, she was not going to chance anything, so left right away. My sister also got a call and she left work early to get on the road as well.

9:30am

Joe got home…I was still contracting. Nothing painful, so I took this time to relax and clean a little. We walked Aria (our dog) to daycare. Joe and I went to lunch with Julie. We had Mexican (of course). I wanted to make sure these contrx were going to stick! Spicy food was also supposed to help the contrx so I made sure to eat lots of salsa! I had a great time…it was thrilling to know that Michael was coming! Julie was also very excited for us as well!

1:45pm

After lunch Joe and I laid down…He slept, I did not, but the contrx were getting a little stronger.

3:30pm

Mom got to the house and Ashley was only 30 min behind her. We started to time the contrax again and they were at 6 min apart. They were getting to the point where I was having a hard time getting comfortable but nothing unmanageable.

5:00pm

So we called Birth Center and the Midwife, Rita, said to take a walk and eat some dinner. Not what I wanted to hear of course, but I tried to oblige. I sat at the dining room table and started to eat a turkey sandwich. I took about 4 bites and I couldn’t sit anymore. The pain was increasing and the time between contrx was decreasing. Sitting was just not an option anymore. I only felt relief leaning over something.

5:20pm

I gave Joe the phone and said…“HERE call Rita and tell her we are on our way. AND DON’T LET HER TALK YOU OUT OF IT! Just tell her we did all she asked and now they are closer and stronger!”

Joe looked like a deer I headlights…poor guy. But he did call Rita and he informed her that we were an hour away (give or take) and about to get in the car. Now I thought about this car ride a lot. I knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant, but I made the choice to go to Savannah so no one to blame but myself. So the time had come to get in the car and I did not want to sit! No choice…I was told by my mom. And she was right! We laid the seat back so that all the pressure was not on my bottom and that helped.

5:40pm

We started off on the 45 minute car ride (Joe drove great by the way!). During that period of time I experienced about 15 contrx. Yup, no fun, but I had Joe’s hand and my yoga breathing techniques and we made it! Of course when we got there no one was there. I had to get out of the car so I was leaning against the car during contrx. Sabrina (my Doula) arrived first and then Rita got there.

6:30pm

Once we were in the Birth Center, Rita hooked me up to the Fetal Monitor. This is protocol to make sure the baby is handling the contrx well. This also shows just how strong the contrx are. You can’t really put a number on it, but Ashley and Joe’s eyeballs about popped out of their head when they saw the number climb from 0 to 70 or 80. If my face and breathing didn’t give it away, the number on the machine sure did. Thank goodness I couldn’t see the machine. I think watching the peaks get higher and higher would have been more torturous. The element of surprise played an integral part during this portion of labor.

7:30pm

After about 1 hour of monitoring, Rita checked me to see how far along I was.

With certainty she told me, “Seven centimeters.”

My mouth dropped and all I could say was, “Holy —!” The pain I was feeling was strong, but I didn’t expect 7cm. With how people explain the pain of labor, always saying how ‘horrible’ and it’s the ‘worst pain in their life,’ I was thinking maybe I was 5 cm. What I was feeling was painful no doubt, but manageable. I knew my body wasn’t going to give me anything I couldn’t handle. I was very relieved with 7 cm. I was almost there!

I was the only one at the Birth Center so I got my choice of room…so I chose the room with dark furniture. Not thinking…it was also the room furthest away from where I was at that moment. I immediately regretted my decision as I walked past the other room during a contrx. Once we got to the room I was immediately given an IV so that they could give me antibiotics because I was group B strep positive. It only took 20 min to get the medicine in me, but laying on the bed was a nice little break. I then opted to have Rita break my water. She was able to break the sac however just a trickle came out. She figured that his head was so engaged that it acted as a plug…Getting closer I thought to myself!

8:00pm

After the antibiotics were in, I wanted to get in the tub. Joe got in there with me, he sat behind me so I could lean on his thighs. Sabrina was sitting outside the tub in front of me. She held my hand and talked me through the contrx. She kept reminding me to stay relaxed in my jaw. She also had me say ‘open’ or ‘out’ when I would breathe out. After a while I was tired of saying those two words so I found a new favorite; ‘Owie!’ Joe found this particularly funny since he had never heard me say this word before. According to him I did/said a lot of stuff that wasn’t ‘me’. I stayed light hearted and tried to joke between contrx. Sabrina made a great point later on that Rita was the perfect match for us, she was able to keep the mood light and we all joked off each other which brought laughs and smiles. It was quite wonderful! I was in the tub for about an hour I think, and my back was killing me. Joe asked if he could do anything and I told him to, “Stop moving the water!” A silly request I know, but the slight movement of water was hurting my back even more.

I remember asking Rita how I was going to know when to push. Her response was, “Oh you will know.”

“Really?” I asked. Rita nodded. “Because I want to push right now. It hurts and I want him out!”

“Trust me, you will come to the point where you will NEED to push and you will know,” she explained.

We tried the shower next. Rita wanted me on my knees…funny I thought! I was concerned about being able to get up, but she assured me that with all these people they would be able to help me. So I was down on my knees leaning over the seat and Rita was running the water over my back. The whole position hurt but I knew (or suspected) that Michael was sunny side up so I needed to turn him. This was a good position to achieve just that, but again my back was killing me. The pain in my back hurt worse than the contrx…I can’t even explain it.

Around 10:00pm

After the shower I laid back down in the bed for another cervical check. I was 8 cm…so we are getting somewhere. Rita wanted me in another position, she called it the ‘cookie’ position. It was me laying on my side/stomach to aid in turning the baby from sunny side up. Not the most comfortable, but I knew it needed to happen. Joe was right there next to the bed holding my hand. Looking into his eyes helped with the pain. I know it may sound a bit crazy, but connecting with him kept my mind off the pain. I would even smile during some contrx. I don’t know how long I was there but Rita was right…I felt the urge to push. It was intense. Lots or pressure and pushing sounded like the only solution. So I rolled over and Rita checked me again. I was almost at 10 cm…still technically at 9 cm but Rita thought she could slip the lip of my cervix over during a push.

11:10pm

Let the pushing begin! After a few pushes Rita was able to get his head through the cervix so now it was up to me. I must say that pushing was the best part . I was most afraid of this…but it actually felt good to push. It was a different pain, a pain that I knew was going to get me a baby really soon! I got to reach down and feel his head. That was weird but very neat at the same time! They brought a mirror around so I could see just how close I was. Once I saw that I knew there was a light at the end of the tunnel so I gathered all my energy to keep pushing.

I pushed for 44 min and finally his head was out. In my daze I heard someone say the head was out and all I could say in response was, “Yeah I know!!! I CAN FEEL IT!”

11:54pm

The next push came the shoulders, and I reached down and pulled Michael the rest of the way and brought him to my chest. Amazing! All I kept saying was…“Oh my God, I love him!” and, “I can’t believe I just did that!” It was truly an amazing experience. He was a dirty mess but he was so beautiful! I can’t even explain the feelings that I felt when I finally got to look into his eyes and see his face! Joe cut the cord shortly after midnight, and for the first time Michael and I were no longer one. I passed him over to Joe so he could hold him! I loved watching them bond. He fell so in love with him and watching that moment was so rewarding; forever will that be in my memories!

Michael Adam-James, born at 11:54pm at the Savannah Midwife Group & Birth Center. Weighing 8lbs 10oz and 20.5 inches long.

-Amanda D

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