You Love The Fourth Baby As Much As The First

Last week my husband and I went to church with just us and the baby.  It felt so....young.  Honestly, going to church with four kids is something of a production and this was just so stinking EASY.  The baby is 9 months old and has been babbling for a while now. 

Her words include:

dada

dog

buster (the dog's name)

baba (for brother)

thank you

ball

But of course- not, mama.

However, as we sat there in church she looked at me and finally said, "mama mama mama mama." 

It was a good day. 

I actually burst into tears, I was so happy. 

Sure, I came in after the dog (twice technically) but finally, she had said it.  My name.  Mama. 

It just reminded me how much you love each and every one of your babies.  I think sometimes people look at bigger families and wonder how a mother or father can give as much, even love them all the same. 

But I can tell you that you do.  Everything they do is just as exciting.  Every milestone is a triumph.  It is ALWAYS a joy to watch a child learn and grow, even if you have seen it a few times before in another child. 

I will admit that life is different with more children.  We have spent the last two weeks with a killer flu making the rounds and I can only describe the experience as pure hell.  Really.  Hellish.  (If anybody is listening, I think it is totally unfair that mothers and children get sick.  What is the point of that?  More dirty floors?  More laundry?  I don't see it.)

So killer illness does make having lots of kids somewhat more difficult, but it doesn't mean you love them any less. 

I love my first baby.  I love my last baby.  I love my babies. 

The end.

"I AM IN LABOR"- A Birth Story Where Mama Knows Best

**Disclaimer: I just want to preface this birth story by telling you that I LOVE my birthing center and the midwives there. As you read my birth story, I might come across as angry or annoyed - and at the time I was a little bit. However, I totally understand that my midwife made the best decision she could with the information she was given. My labors progress weird and fast. There's no formula for that. So, please know that I am in no way upset with the way my labor/delivery happened. I made it to the birth center in time and that's all I care about. The birthing center and their midwives will FOREVER have a special place in my heart and if the Lord chooses to give us another blessing I will have my next child there!**

After Cannon's speedy, eight-hour labor and delivery, I was on edge anticipating an even FASTER labor with this second child.

I'd been having Braxton Hicks contractions since around 25 weeks pregnant and about the middle of December the strong, period-like cramps started. The cramps had me convinced that I would deliver early since I didn't have cramps until the day before Cannon was born. Cannon was five days early, so I was all set for a New Years Baby (Cason was due on January 6, 2012)!

The week before Christmas, Cannon and I both came down with a nasty cold which settled in his ears and in my sinuses. A few days before Christmas I finally went to CareNow and was put on a Z-Pack for a sinus infection, and a few days after Christmas Cannon was diagnosed with the start of an ear infection. I was worried that I would go into labor with the pounding headache and stuffy nose but was assured by my midwife that sick, pregnant women rarely go into labor as their bodies know not to overload themselves. I was also terrified of going into labor on Christmas and not having our birth photographer their to capture the moment. When I woke up on December 26th feeling much better and still pregnant, I breathed a sigh of relief and decided it was time to start the "let's get Cason here" campaign.

I started taking my six-week pregnancy tea again (I had stopped drinking it for fear it was sending me into labor too early) and Cannon and I resumed our daily walks - only this time I was power walking right through all of those contactions. I was done being pregnant and ready to hold my baby - mainly because having to lift and care for Cannon while so huge was WEARING ME OUT!

Well, the days went by. I went to my 38 week check-up at the birthing center and then my 39 week check-up and each time I had only dilated to a 1 1/2. My trusty midwife informed me that when you've been sick and your body has shut down labor, it takes a few days to gear back up and get going again. And so we waited.

New Years came and went and all of a sudden I was terrified of going past my due date. How many more days could I be pregnant? I knew I wouldn't be pregnant forever, but some days just dragged by. My emotions were out of control. I began having anxiety and fear regarding the pain of labor and delivery. It was all I could think about. With Cannon's birth I lived in blissful ignorance, just telling myself that "I could do this!" This time around though, I knew EXACTLY what to expect, and I knew it wouldn't be pretty or painless. I was suddenly regretting my decision to deliver at a birthing center. I sent out a cry for prayer and encouragement on Facebook and to a few friends via email. Scripture flooded my inbox, and I started carrying around a few verses on index cards and meditating on them throughout the day. They were calming and encouraging reminders that the Lord was near. The week before Cason's birth I had days of panic and days of sweet calm playing with Cannon. It was quite the pendulum swing back and forth.

On Thursday, January 5th, I woke up around 6:00 am with a fairly strong contraction. Not breathtaking, but it was definitely stronger than a cramp. I noted the time, closed my eyes and waited. Sure enough, 10 minutes later there was another contraction. I waited through four contractions and finally told Danny that today might be the day and that contractions were coming every 8-10 minutes. We got up and packed all of our last minute things for the birth center.

By 8:00 am, Cannon was stirring and my contractions were still every 10 minutes apart. "This may not be the super fast labor I was expecting" I thought. My Mom came and picked Cannon up around 8:30 am to watch him for the day. We all thought that Cason was surely coming at any hour.

Danny and I spent the morning eating breakfast, watching the news, walking around the block and resting on the couch, but instead of picking up my contractions started slowing down. Soon they were every 12-15 minutes apart. By early afternoon they were faintly coming every 20 minutes, if that, and I was discouraged. What was happening? Should I walk to try to speed them up, or should I rest so that if I go into labor late at night I'm not exhausted. I didn't know what to do. Danny called the birthing center and they graciously fit us in for an impromptu appointment to check things out.

After our second walk of the day, during which I barely felt any cramping, we headed to the birthing center. It was round 3:30 pm. Amy checked my progress and listened to my concerns. I was 3 1/2 cm dilated and 80% effaced. My body was definitely working, but she thought it might be slowing down because I was tired. Sometimes ones body shuts down and a good night's sleep kicks things back into gear. She recommended rest, a bath, and even Tylenol PM or Benedryl, if I was comfortable taking something to help me sleep. Well, I was scared to take any medicine that would induce drowsiness as those things KNOCK ME OUT, and I didn't want to labor in a fog, but a bath, well, I was comfortable with that.

My parents agreed to watch Cannon over night, so Danny picked up Pei Wei and a "One Day" at the Redbox and we settled in for a relaxing evening. I ended up going to bed after dinner, a movie and a bath around 10:00 pm in the hopes for a good night's sleep. I was nervously excited, but hoping to rest up. I knew we were close to meeting Cason.

Around 12:30 am I woke up with a start. I was in the middle of a very strong contraction. Much stronger than anything I'd had the previous day. I steadied my breathing and tried to relax. Ten minutes later, another extremely hard contractions. One after the other they came . . . ten minutes apart. WHAT WAS GOING ON? I knew this was game time, but I was worried that they would slow down again since they were so far apart. I finally work Danny at 1:00 or 1:30 am (time warps when you're in labor) and told him this was it. At this point I was laboring on my side in bed or on the floor on my hands and knees. I was having to "work" to relax. I carried my scripture cards each time I changed position.

At 2:00 am I told Danny to call the birthing center and notify the midwife on call. I already knew it was Sarah, but I thought we should double-check before waking her up in the middle of the night. Danny talked with her for what seemed like an hour. Finally, he came back and reported that she wanted me to try to sleep in between contractions if they were only 8-10 minutes apart.

I nearly cried.

There was no sleeping in between contractions. They were never really ending, they were just peaking and then tapering off into a hard cramp and then peaking again 8 minutes later. Danny suggested we try to labor for an hour before we call her again. I buckled down for some concentrated breathing.

Twenty minutes later I was alternating between laboring in bed (Sarah said I should rest, so I was trying my best) and laboring on the toilet. Cason was SO LOW that every contraction felt like I need to go to the bathroom. That was the same sensation I had just before my water broke with Cannon, so I knew we were nearing the end. When I got up to go to the bathroom, my contractions sped up and came every 4-5 minutes. When I went back to bed they slowed down to every 8-10 minutes.

I asked Danny to call Sarah again. I really wanted to be at the birthing center. I didn't want my water to break at home because I knew once my water broke the baby was coming . . . FAST. And I didn't want to have to ride in the car AGAIN with pushing contractions.

Danny called. Again, he talked to her for what seemed like eternity. I didn't realize it at the time but he was trying to convince her to head to the birthing center so we could come. He was trying to explain how our previous birth progressed quickly and how I felt like things were nearing the end. She wasn't so easily convinced. And, who can blame her. Normal childbirth textbooks say that when contractions are 10 minutes apart you're probably in the early stages and could have HOURS left. What midwife wants to get up at 3 am just to sit with a labor woman for the next 12 hours? I knew we were much closer to birthing a baby than 12 hours though. Finally she asked to speak to me. Through moans and groans I finished a contraction and got on the phone. I explained to her how low he felt in my pelvis, how I felt the urge to pee with every contraction, how the contractions sped up and slowed down, and how I really wanted to come to the birthing center. She told me that if my contractions were slowing when I laid down that I probably wasn't in active labor.

I cried. On the phone. With the midwife.

She tried to encourage me. She knew I was having a hard time but reminded me that I was doing great.

I hung up the phone and cried some more.

"WHY WON'T ANYONE BELIEVE ME WHEN I SAY I'M IN LABOR?!?!?!"

I was beyond frustrated and getting panicky. First Danny with Cannon's birth and now Sarah with Cason's birth.

"This was why I chose to deliver at the birthing center," I moaned to Danny, "so I could labor in a safe place. I didn't want to go through another crazy labor and here I am worried that I'm going to give birth at home."

I continued laboring on the floor at the foot of our bed, moaning, groaning and swaying from side to side while on all fours with each contraction. Danny was diligently squeezing my hips harder and harder as I demanded and faithfully timing each contraction.

Finally, after another 20 minutes, I asked Danny to call Sarah for a third time.

"If she won't let us go to the birthing center now, then please just drive me to the hospital. They won't, no, they can't, turn me away, and I'm NOT having this baby at home."

At this point my contractions had sped up to 3-4 minutes apart no matter my position. Danny was off the phone in a matter of minutes. Sarah had agreed to meet us at the birthing center. I'm not sure if we wore her down or my contractions were now close enough together. She was going to call us when she was 10 minutes away.

"Let's go right now." I begged Danny. "We can be there waiting when she arrives."

"She's 30 minutes away." Danny replied. "What are you going to do? Labor on the porch? In the dark?"

That sounded better to me than having my water break at home, or even worse, in the car.

At 3:00 am Sarah called and said she'd be there soon.

The car was already packed. We were ready to go. I had one contraction in the kitchen, leaning on the counter. I walked to the car and had another one on the driveway, leaning on the rearview mirror. As soon as that contraction was over we were in the car driving. All I wanted was to be in that big jacuzzi tub at the birthing center. I wanted to experience the wonders of being in water during labor that everyone raves about. Less than 10 minutes later we were pulling up to the birthing center and I had only had one contraction in the car. I was out of the car before Danny completely stopped as another contraction was coming on and I couldn't handle another one sitting down.

Childbirth is funny. Some memories are oddly muddled and foggy. Time passes without recognition. I have no recollection of the hours or minutes of the night, how fast or slow things were happening. Other memories are starkly clear. I can distinctly remember locations of contractions. Leaning on the birthing center's mailbox as I stumble out of the still moving car. Breathing into the bannister as soon as we walked into the dimly lit birthing center wondering WHERE THE HECK was Sarah?!

Immediately she came out of the back kitchen and told me to come into the office to get checked. "CHECKED?" I thought. "She wants to CHECK ME?" That was the last thing I wanted to do. That involved climbing onto an exam bed, holding still, being touched! At this point in labor I rarely like being touched. The slighted sensations aggravate me. Danny's hair bristling on my back while he squeezed my hips together annoyed me to no end. Danny touching me too soft, or too hard. An itchy tag on my shirt. It seemed every nerve ending I had was turned on high.

Well, check me she did only to announce that I was 9 cm dilated with a bulging bag of water. It was all I could do not to scream "I TOLD YOU SO!" right there in that exam room.

Upstairs we went while Sarah busied herself getting things ready and calling her birth assistant.  Danny texted Tori, our birth photographer, "9 cm." She replied that she was speeding by still 30 minutes away.

It was 3:15 am.

We settled into the birthing room. And by settled in, I mean I took off my yoga pants and proceeded to labor in the bathroom, on the bed, on the floor, on my side, on all fours. It was transition in full force. NOTHING felt good. Sarah and Danny sat on the end of the bed. At one point I remember hearing low talking. I remember feeling alone and wondering how they could just chit chat at time like this. I looked at Sarah and asked "What should I be doing?" I wanted to her to give me a magic position, a cure all suggestion, something, anything that would help me cope/relieve the pain. She just replied, "Do whatever feels good to."

"Well, everything I know to do isn't working," is what I thought. She knew what I had forgotten. There was nothing she could do to help me now. It was just a matter of painful minutes that I had to get through myself. Me and Cason. It was just the two of us now, working, breathing, pressing, relaxing to bring him out.

All this pain

I wonder if I’ll ever find my way

I wonder if my life could really change at all

All this earth

Could all that is lost ever be found

Could a garden come up from this ground at all

I knew what needed to happen next. I was waiting, one agonizing contraction at a time, for my water to break. That familiar low pressure was there. The sensation with every contraction that I needed to go to the bathroom wouldn't go away. I contemplated asking Sarah to break my water just to get things over with, but I knew it would be better for things to progress naturally. Surely it couldn't be long now.

After what seemed an agonizingly long time, but was probably only 5-6 contractions, my water broke. Fast and gushing and with a pop. Relief. And a smile. I remember smiling and talking and then thinking, I shouldn't be able to talk at this point in labor. The time was 4:01 am.

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

The break was short-lived. Pushing contractions quickly started. At some point Danny had turned on the iPod and I remember hearing "1234" by the Plain White Ts playing in the background. I wanted him to turn the music louder, I wanted it to be blaring in my face, something, anything to distract me from the intensity, but I couldn't even whisper a word. I couldn't even ask for water. I remember turning to him and before I could even ask, Sarah was telling him to give me a drink. It was like she somehow knew how dry and sandy my mouth had become with the breathing.

After one or two pushing contractions, Carrie, the birth assistant arrived. I didn't know it, but I had been waiting for her the entire time. Immediately she was in my ear telling me that I was doing a great job, that I was making progress, that it was almost over. I had been wanting someone to tell me what was going on, how things were progressing, IF things were progressing and if they could see his little head yet.

At 4:08 am Tori, our birth photographer walked into the room and I remember smiling at her and thinking, what a greeting. I'm spread eagle on the bed and groaning as she walked in the door. But she had made it and I couldn't be more pleased.

All around

Hope is springing up from this old ground

Out of chaos life is being found in You

Soon after Tori arrived Cason crowned and I felt the infamous ring of fire, only it didn't go away. I was expecting him to crown and then recede when the the contraction ended and I stopped pushing. But he didn't go back in. His little head just stayed there and so did that burning ring of fire. He was stuck. I knew he was. I asked if I could push again, and Sarah suggested I wait until the next contraction. WAIT! That seemed the impossibly task. Finally, the slightest hint of the start of a contraction and I pushed and pushed and pushed. And then Cason gave a give. A strong, hard, straight-legged kick straight into my stomach. He was trying to help, to work his way out. I remember screaming "Just get him OUT!" and his head was born. Sarah began saying "easy, easy, easy" and I returned from my faraway laboring place to slow down, to relax, to wait.

Danny said it was at this point that Sarah and Carrie were noting that the cord was wrapped around the neck. When I stopped pushing Sarah grabbed the cord and pulled it gently away from Cason's neck. With my next push she let the cord slip over Cason's shoulder as he was born. And again, relief. Wet, slippery, joyful relief.

Caught by Daddy and on my chest in a second, Cason was born. It was 4:14 am. Four hours after starting hard labor. One hour after arriving at the birth center. Thirteen minutes after my water broke. Six minutes after the photographer arrived. And exactly on time on his due date.

He didn't cry right away and I was worried. He was gray and limp. He looked so little and yet just seconds before had felt impossibly big. Carrie wrapped him in a blanket as he lay on my chest and rubbed him down. She suctioned his nose and mouth and then there was a cry. A glorious newborn squeal. The indignant squawk that his perfect little world in my womb had been disrupted. And soon Sarah told me to relax, smile, he was perfect.

You make me new, You are making me new

You make me new, You are making me new

You are making me new*

And from that moment time started flying by. I held him low on my chest waiting for the cord, which was somewhat short, to stop pulsing. Carrie introduced herself and I laughed, because I have a tendency to meet the people that help deliver my babies AFTER my babies are born. I barely remember delivering the placenta. A flash here, a snap there from Tori's camera. Danny texting, calling family. Sarah letting me know that I had a laceration but wouldn't even require a stitch. Cason nursing like a champ. Cannon arriving and not knowing what to do with the bundle in my arms.

Parents and brothers arriving and oohing and aahing over the newest life in our family tree. Showering. Eating bacon, eggs and toast from a local cafe. Cuddling with Danny and Cason on the bed. Packing up. Driving home with my son only six hours old. Hours and hours of skin to skin in my very own bedroom.

Then I blinked.

The pain of labor dims, but the memories sharpen, fixated in my mind. And my beautiful little thing grows too fast in my arms and time flies.

*Song lyrics in italics from "Beautiful Things" by Gungor, our song for our second son.

Organic Stretch Mark Oil GIVEAWAY!

OK ladies- it is that time again!  Giveaway time!

This week our giveaway comes from one of our sponsors, Avishi Organics.  They are donating one bottle of Intensive Repair Oil!  You can read more about it HERE on their website. 

From their description:


"Avishi Organics Intensive Repair Oil activates skin renewal to visibly minimize the appearance of existing stretch marks and scars, as well as reduce the possibility of new marks forming during pregnancy. It is free from chemicals, fragrances, colors, parabens, sulfates and other toxic ingredients, and is safe for use during pregnancy and breastfeeding."

So- probably ANY of us could use this!  (Present company excluded.)


Here are the SIMPLE rules! 

1) Go to their FACEBOOK PAGE HERE, and like it.

2) Comment here, on my BLOG.  PLEASE for the love of my freaking sanity, leave your e-mail address and answer it if I e-mail you!  I will temporarily allow anonymous comments so all can comment.

3) WAIT.  Contest closes Wednesday night and I will try to announce the RANDOMLY chosen winner on Thursday morning. 

Thanks- and peace out!  (I am trying to set a record with exclamation points and capital letters.  Do you LIKE IT?!!!!)

Something New In Birth Education- Birth Boot Camp

I knew after I had my first child that I wanted to be a natural birth teacher. I just KNEW it. Maybe that sounds silly, but I wanted it so badly. It was something I could do as a stay at home mother, and I loved learning about birth and I wanted to share with others how much joy it had brought to me.

The birth class I had taken was from Donna Ryan, you might know her as that crazy Banned From Baby Showersgal. She encouraged me and really has been my mentor through this whole process for years. Many times I have said that I want to be Donna when I grow up. (She is much older than me too, but that is another story.  I just had to throw that in there.  She is the same age as my husband.)

After my second child was born I set about trying to actually get certified to teach. I felt like I needed to have more than one natural birth before I could teach, like the first one might have been a fluke or something.

So when my second baby was 8 months old I left everybody for three days to attend a Bradley Method™ training in Phoenix Arizona.

My childbirth educator had been a Bradley ™ teacher and I had decided to be one too. I looked into lots of different ways to certify but settled on Bradley ™ in the end for a few reasons.

One reason was that it had been the class I took and it had worked for me. Another reason was that I was (and am) devoted to the natural process. Yes I know that birth can and does go haywire sometimes, but my particular philosophy about birth is that it should be as natural as possible as often as possible. I really think that women CAN do this birth thing naturally most of the time. That probably sounds unexceptional from me, but that philosophy, that COMMITMENT to the natural process is not found in all birth method classes. I wanted it and it existed in Bradley ™ .

But it was not perfect. No surprise, few things are.

So after years of teaching when my old friend and mentor, Donna, approached me about joining her in beginning a NEW childbirth education company, Birth Boot Camp Inc. I was both flattered and resistant.

My biggest concern really was, would I still get students? People in the birth community know that Bradley ™ is devoted to the natural process and midwives know that it prepares their couples well.

But when I came on board with Donna and her fabulous group of women I KNEW that I had to do this. Let me tell you why-

For one- this birth education method is as perfect as they come. I have been teaching for years now and I have had to adapt my classes to fit the needs of my couples. I have had to add in things that are more modern and applicable to my students. I have had to “update” the classes on my own. I have also felt the need to address things that are missing- like the role of emotions in labor or the need for movement or the process of induction and the skyrocketing c-section rate.

Even though the mechanics of birth stay the same, the POLITICS of birth are constantly shifting. Birth Boot Camp is updated and modern and it address topics that are simply NEEDED for any couple wanting to have a natural, vaginal birth.

Second, I met the team of women running this show. I simply know it will be successful. They are amazingly talented, work seamlessly together, and have the rarest combination of both organization and ideas that will inevitably make this venture great and successful.

What seemed like a leap of faith at first, now I know is a sure thing. Birth Boot Camp WILL be awesome. It already is, and it is just beginning.

Third, I know Donna. She is a fantastic leader. She has the unique ability to be both loved by those who work with her without sacrificing the need to be in charge and make decisions. One of the most passionate and principled people I have ever met, it is a pleasure to work with her and I am so grateful and humbled that she asked me to be a part of something so great.

And lastly, I NEEDED this too.

I am a mom, first and foremost. But I am also a woman and I have a desire, like I am sure many of you do, to be counted. I want to change the world for better. I want to do good in the lives of others. I want to be involved in the time of life that changes people forever: birth.

Birth Boot Camp has given me that opportunity. It lets me be a mother first, but also be more than that. It allows me to be a woman with talents who is a force for good in the world.

I feel that my life is so very blessed.

Have you ever gone for years just wondering what you were supposed to do and hoping that you would figure it out?

I have.

But now I know that this last little “bit” rounds it all out for me without sacrificing that which is most important to me.

Thanks for listening- I have never been good with good-byes or announcements.

If you are interested in becoming an Birth Boot Camp instructor, there is a training in Dallas this September.  If you are interested in taking a class you can find teachers on our website, and also options for people with no teacher available, (can you say “professionally filmed online classes”? No I am NOT kidding. We are providing ONLINE birth classes and they are amazing!)  Or, if you are a birth worker or midwife and are interested in learning more, you can contact us through this link.  

And of course, there is a Facebook page!

Joy on your journey! I am so excited to share part of mine with you-

Birth And Nursing Taught Me To Love My Body- A Birth Story

There are a lot of little interesting tidbits in this birth story; an unplanned hospital birth, some unwanted Pitocin, and an unexpected episiotomy.  What I love though is that this mom is still overjoyed at her experience.  But even more than that, I adore that her birthing and nurturing experience as a mother taught her how amazing and powerful her body is.  

That is simply TRUE.  We are powerful and birth can teach us this.  

Enjoy-

The Birth Story of Jack William

About halfway through my pregnancy, I found a copy of Spiritual Midwiferyat a used bookstore. After reading it cover to cover, this became my pregnancy bible. Ina May Gaskin’s knowledge and birth stories were so inspiring and amazing to me. I watched The Business of Being Born and read everything I could get my hands on about natural childbirth. 

 I learned that my body and baby knew exactly what they were doing and that giving birth was a completely natural process that- in healthy, uncomplicated circumstances- didn’t need medical intervention. I knew that I didn’t want to bring my baby into the world in a hospital. The minute my husband and I walked into The Midwife Center for an orientation class, I knew it was where I wanted our son to be born. 

The peace I felt in that building was indescribable- I knew that I had made the right choice in turning my prenatal care over to the midwives. The first time I met Kara, I liked her instantly and hoped she’d be on call when I went into labor. Every other midwife I saw during my pregnancy was awesome too- such kind women who truly care about each mom-to-be. As Jack grew inside me and the day we would finally meet him drew nearer, I grew more excited and joyful about bringing him earthside in a natural and gentle way. 

 

On Wednesday August 18^th, I woke up around 2 a.m. to pee and I noticed that I was having light, but REAL contractions. They were different from the cramps, twinges and pressure I’d been feeling over the previous week (my body had definitely been giving me the signals that it was gearing up for labor). I just knew it wouldn’t be long before we’d meet our little Jack! 

The contractions continued pretty regularly but were mild, so I spent the day getting some things done and waiting for the feelings to grow stronger. I walked on the trail at our local park (like I did every day), went to Giant Eagle to be sure we had everything we needed at home for after Jack’s birth, went to TJ Maxx, cleaned the house, made sure the laundry was done and waited for those uterine surges to grow stronger. 

Jake, my husband, came home around 4 p.m. to hang out with me. Then we went for a ride in the jeep to Starbucks for frappuchinos and stopped at empty property next door to us for a little mildly bumpy four wheeling. This didn’t work to bring on stronger contractions either. As I made us a dinner of egg and cheese English muffins, I continued to feel the same mild contractions that were maybe around 5 or 6 minutes apart.

Later that evening, I decided to take a shower and wait for my sweet baby boy to let me know he was ready. Not long after, I noticed some clear discharge but I chalked it up to the same “pregnancy juices” I had going on all week. I certainly didn’t think my water had broken. Around 10 p.m., I called The Midwife Center to check in and let them know that active labor was imminent. We live about 45 minutes away from the Strip District and I wanted to be sure we’d make it there in time. Kara returned my call- she was at Mercy with another woman in labor. I told her about the day and described how my contractions were progressing. 

At first, she said I should try to get some sleep and call to check in at 7 a.m. But after we talked, Kara must have thought twice about the “leakage” and consulted with Lori. They decided that I should go to Mercy so Kara could check the fluid- if it was amniotic fluid and my water was broken for over 24 hours, there’s a risk of infection… and no birth center birth. Jake and I packed up the car with our bags and my birth ball and headed downtown (the carseat was also installed and ready). 

I honestly thought for sure we’d return home that night to sleep in our bed. We arrived at Mercy around midnight and Kara met us on the labor and delivery floor. The nurse hooked me up to a fetal monitor to keep watch of Jack’s heartbeat and Kara took a sample of the fluid. After waiting for what seemed like forever, she came back and told us that yes, it was amniotic fluid. Kara took us out of the room to show us what it looked like under the microscope. Amazing- amniotic fluid looks just like frost crystals. 

I thought it was so cool of Kara to show us. We went back to the triage room to discuss what to do from there. The issue was that we had no way to really determine when my water had broken. That fact, along with a couple dips in Jack’s heart-rate (which was otherwise nice and strong) caused Kara some concern. She consulted with the doctor the midwives work with at Mercy and told us that she really felt it was time for this baby to be born. 

It wouldn’t be smart for us to go home and wait for labor to progress when the risk of infection was there. In those moments, I was 100% crushed. I really did not want to have our baby in that hospital. I felt like all of the preparation and work I’d done over my pregnancy was for nothing and it was a really depressing half hour or so for me. Kara left Jake and I to talk and I cried and felt horrible for a little while. 

Then I realized that we had to do what was best for Jack and no matter where he was born, he was coming to us! Kara’s assurance that Jack’s birth would still be beautiful and special and Jake’s support were what helped me accept that we would be having our baby in the hospital. Not what I had envisioned. I had known things could go differently than what I had planned, but it was a total shock to me in those moments as we sat under the glaring fluorescent lights.

Around 1:30 a.m., Kara took us to a labor and delivery room. 

It had a bathroom, a bed, a chair and a sink…and florescent lights, which I immediately asked Jake to turn off. Jake went back to the car for our stuff and the nurse hooked up the fetal monitor. Much to my dismay, Kara and the doctor wanted me on a pitocin drip to progress my labor. I very adamantly didn’t want this, but they felt that things weren’t really picking up and Jack needed to come out of there- no one wanted to risk infection. It was what it was. The nurse started the pitocin and Jake returned. 

We were left alone to relax and wait for the contractions to intensify. Kara estimated that Jack would probably be born the next afternoon. Jake and I talked and he eventually drifted off to sleep. Me- not so much. I was still having the surges that began almost 24 hours previously so every time I’d get close to falling asleep, I’d feel that intense surge that started in my lower back and washed through my body like a tidal wave. 

The fact that I was stuck in a terribly uncomfortable bed with a monitor strapped to my (very large) belly and an IV in my right arm, made these feelings so much more uncomfortable than they really were. I so wanted to get out of that bed to move around and use my birth ball! It felt completely unnatural to be lying on my back. But there I was and I had to make the best of it. I breathed through the contractions and tried to stay relaxed. 

That pitocin hit me like a freight train- it didn’t take long at all for the contractions to grow in intensity and frequency. Around 6 a.m. during a contraction, my body knew it was time to push. My uterus and baby Jack were doing their job and beginning the process of birth! Without my brain having any part of the action, my body was pushing! I told Jake to call Kara- it was definitely time. 

The contractions were so close together and so intense- the word that came to mind was “hardcore”. Kara came in and saw that this was it! The feelings were so powerful that I was grunting and being way more vocal than I had expected. By that point, I really crushed Jake’s hand and arm bone as I clung to him through the intensity. 

Kara started setting up the “delivery stuff” and we prepared to meet our little man! At 7 a.m., there was a shift change. Kara needed to be with a woman who was about to have a c-section, so Lori (a midwife I hadn’t met yet) would be “catching” Jack. I remember when she came into the room and introduced herself- she was very warm and kind. 

I told her it was nice to meet her but I couldn’t really chat- things were very intense and it was finally time for Jack to make his grand entrance. Jake kept asking if he could do anything for me and I remember telling him to just not ask me any questions. The nurse Henrietta (who was fantastic) was on my right, Jake on my left, and Lori was front and center. 

They gently coached me to push as each contraction came on, working with my body to move the baby down. In all my pre-labor preparations, I knew I wanted to “breathe the baby down” but it wasn’t just as simple as that- I really needed to PUSH him down, using all my breath and strength. It was the most exhausting, hard work I’ve ever done, but Lori, Jake and Henrietta really coached me along to do the work I needed to do. 

 I silently listened to what they told me to do and did it while grunting loudly. This experience was, in a word, primitive- deep, throaty noises emerged from me while I spread my knees and legs and worked harder than ever with each contraction to help Jack down the birth canal. Lori could see the head and told Jake to look- he says the first thing he saw of Jack was some of his dark hair flopping out! So our boy had hair! Lori put a big mirror at the foot of the bed and told me to look- I needed Jake to put my glasses on me so I could see. 

I’ll never, ever forget the amazing site of the top of our son’s dark-hair covered head! He was RIGHT there! It was thrilling. He was almost out and I was giving every bit of energy I had to these final pushes. I looked up at the ceiling and was fading in and out of consciousness. The nurse put an oxygen mask on me and then it became a total scene out of ER for a couple minutes: I was trying with all my might to pop this kid out but he was stuck- his little arm was near his head and not allowing his little body to easily slip out. 

His heart rate began to drop. Between each contraction, Lori was telling me to breathe oxygen to my baby. I did my best to follow her instructions through the extreme fatigue. It became very serious when Lori announced that they needed to get the doctor and the vacuum in the room. I heard this and even saw a doctor in scrubs come in and I knew I HAD to push my boy out. 

It was just like the way a mother would find the strength to lift a car off of her child if she had to. My efforts paid off and Jack moved down a little more. Then Lori used her scissors and made a small cut to widen the opening. Apparently, it wasn’t enough- she told Jake not to look (but of course he did anyway) and made the cut bigger (a fourth-degree episiotomy). Before we knew it, Jack slid out (at 7:51 a.m.)! The physical relief of the push that got him out was great. I’ll always remember the feeling of his warm, wet body on mine when Lori placed him on my chest. 

 It was absolutely AMAZING. His head of wet, dark hair was smashed against his little head. I remember saying “my baby, my baby” in sheer amazement, love and joy. I immediately put Jack to my breast to nurse him and he latched right on like a champ. Wow- what a bond: words really can’t even describe how amazing and instinctual it was. Jake cut the umbilical cord then I delivered the placenta (which I had encapsulated into pills for its awesome postpartum hormonal healing properties- I will do this with every baby I have!!). 

Lucky for me, they called in an excellent surgeon to stitch me up- that was the painful part of the experience but I barely noticed. I lay there with my trembling legs spread as he stitched and I remember telling everyone that I felt like a laboratory frog. Jake and Jack went across the room to do the weigh-in (7 pounds, 8 ounces and 20.5 inches long) and foot prints. 

I chatted with Jake across the room, asking how Jack was (he was perfect). I really wanted blue Gatorade to drink. They brought Jack back to my arms and Jake and I stared at the amazing little creature that we created. WOW. They took Jack to the nursery to assess him, which I was not happy about- I didn’t want to be away from my baby for a second! 

The nurse helped me up and into a wheelchair (my first time in one) and took me to the room where we’d stay overnight. My legs totally felt like they didn’t work. Otherwise, I felt great! When the nurse wheeled me out of the L&D area, our family was waiting. I told them it was the hardest work I’d ever done with the best result ever. I remember feeling so incredibly happy, thrilled and EMPOWERED! 

 This was the day we became parents and I would do it all again (even the episiotomy!) in a second for our little Jack. We stayed at Mercy until noon the next day (I didn’t want to stay in that hospital at ALL and was ready to leave after a couple hours). I kept my sweet boy with me the whole time and breastfed him on cue/demand. 

 

It was so exciting to put our son in the car and take him home with us! He looked so tiny in his car seat and I snapped a few pictures to commemorate his first car ride.

I am so grateful for midwives. These women truly care about the work they do and each woman and baby MATTERS to them. Although Jack’s birth didn’t unfold as I had planned/envisioned/hoped, it certainly was beautiful and special. The hospital was (and still is) my worst nightmare, but during the action, it didn’t matter what four walls we were within- our baby was joining us in the world. 

Even though we weren’t at the birth center, I was still under the midwives’ care the entire time and they were totally there for me. The whole birth experience was amazing and it really took my relationship with my husband to a whole new level. I love my husband and I love the son that we created. The day Jack was born, we became a true family. I can’t wait to do it again

After struggling with an eating disorder and abusing my body for over a decade, being pregnant, giving birth and watching my son grow on the milk that my body makes for him have given me a respect and appreciation for my body that words can’t describe. I am truly changed and being a mom has made me whole. I have a passion for pregnancy and childbirth that I hope to use in the future to help and support other women. It’s all truly magical!