A Bag of Water That Leaks and Repairs Itself- A Birth Story

What a fabulous birth story.  It shows how healthy and amazing a birth can be when we allow the natural process to unfold even when the birth is different than the norm.  What an blessed mother and baby.   Our bodies are capable of knowing what to do and healing themselves!  This birth could have been very different.

Enjoy~

Aiden's Birth Story.

Aiden was born on Friday, March 30^that 9:45 a.m., at 40 weeks 4 days, but his birth story starts at 37 weeks when I had my first contractions. Having had Braxton hicks contractions forever (since 20 weeks or so), I knew these were a little different, they were very uncomfortable but not necessarily “painful”, but the cramping sensation was very different than BH’s. 

Our midwives let me know that it could mean he’d be earlier than 40 weeks, OR it could mean nothing, and that some people just have contractions before they go into labor. The real contractions often caused BH contractions, and they were random in timing and never had any progression so I readied myself for him to be late, what I’d been expecting all along. I thought for sure I’d have two April Aries boys, with Mark being my first April Aries boy.

Friday, March 16, at 38 weeks 4 days I went to the bathroom and had a strange “I’m leaking?!” moment where I thought I’d finished peeing but there was still liquid trickling out. I was in the bathroom trying to figure out what was going on long enough that Mark came to check on me. After only a few trickles and no gush we decided I must have been peeing and I went back to bed. 

At 2:45 a.m. I got up to pee and again had the same strange sensation, and this time smelled the liquid and it definitely didn’t smell like pee… So we called our midwife who said it was probably a small leak and to go get as much rest as we could because I’d probably go into labor within 24 hours. Long story short, we spent the next day awaiting a labor that was still two weeks away. Sunday a more high-tech test (more high tech than the litmus paper used on Saturday to confirm it was amniotic fluid) at the midwifery center verified that I’d probably had a small tear that repaired itself and we were back to status quo.

I had my last day at work on Tuesday the 27^thand spent Wednesday doing a bunch of projects around the house, as well as going on lots of walks. Toward the end of the day on Wednesday I started to feel like he might never be born, and between a growing anxiety that he’d be really late and my incredible physical discomfort I was not in high spirits. But Thursday I woke up with a fresh outlook, and started to make to-do lists of things I wanted to get done as well as scheduling date nights for the weekend to go to a few of my favorite restaurants. 

Between cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming and miscellaneous other household projects I noticed that my contractions seemed to be a bit more regular than usual and I timed a few of them at 10 minutes apart. While still being fairly certain that it didn’t mean anything, I decided to head to the gym to go for a walk on the treadmill, since a “Pineapple Express” was rolling through the Northwest and it was pouring out. I texted Mark to tell him that I was having a lot of contractions and going to walk, and headed off. I only lasted 20 minutes on the treadmill before I felt like I was having one constant Braxton Hicks contraction, and decided to head home via the grocery store where I stockpiled a bunch of my favorite foods and staples for the weekend (since I was still banking on him being an April baby…)

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. I continued to have contractions about 10 minutes apart and continued to tell myself not to time them because it didn’t matter. By the evening I admitted, to myself and Mark, that I was feeling “a little weird”, but we proceeded with plans to have a friend cook us dinner. We finished with chocolate cake around and headed to bed around 10.

At 12:45a.m. on Friday the 30^thI awoke to a giant kick from Baby, and felt my water starting to head down—I said very calmly to Mark “my water’s breaking” and hopped out of bed to grab a towel just in time to get it on the floor under me. It was not a flood of water but was significant enough in size that there was absolutely no doubt that my water had just broken “for real”. 

After relaying the news to K, our main midwife, we got back in bed to try and rest. Just as soon as we did that I felt Baby wiggle his head and then a flood of water came pouring out—this time I was not so calm, since Mark wasn’t jumping out of bed and grabbing towels I said “there’s TONS of water!!” and that snapped him into action. Once that was cleaned up, we got back in bed and turned on Bon Iver and I’m not sure if Mark actually fell asleep, but I tried to rest between contractions that had immediately gone to 6-7 minutes apart once my water broke and much stronger . 

At 2:30 a.m. I declared sleeping a lost cause and was too uncomfortable to be in bed any longer. Mark got up and started readying things like the birthing tub and I turned on music and lit candles and tried to get in the zone in the living room, laboring mostly on the couch at this point with contractions that were 4 minutes apart and seemingly intensifying with every one. At 4a.m. I called our midwife, K, back and said “I know you said to call in the morning but what if my contractions are 4 minutes apart” and she said “call me if they are 4 minutes apart for an hour” to which I said “they have been for half an hour” and she said “call me back in 1/2 an hour if they stay there”. 

This was a turning point for me mentally because in my gut I knew it wasn’t going to be the next night when I had this baby—and I wanted someone to come be with us. BUT, in my rational brain (which was still working at this point) I knew I was a first time mom and I’d only been in active labor for 3 hours and she was probably right, I should relax and they’d come by in the morning. I went back to laboring with Mark and tried to relax…

But at 4:20a.m., after a couple back to back contractions, I called her and said “ok they are still 4 minutes apart” and she must have gathered from my tone of voice that I was needing someone to come support us. She said C., her apprentice, would be over soon. Mark was a tremendous source of support throughout my labor, and I was simultaneously really glad we had a chance to work through the first couple hours on our own, as a team, and really glad that we were moving into the next phase where we’d have the support of our midwives too.

C. arrived a little before 6a.m. and Mark told her my last contractions had been 5 minutes apart, which I knew was not right, there was no way I was getting any more than two and a half minutes of down time. So I quickly said “No they’re not!!” and went back to leaning over the exercise ball and waiting for them to time them again. C. said “they aren’t that far apart” what seemed like very shortly after that and then things snapped into action. 

I was getting further and further away from reality but have hazy memories of her texting our main midwife, and her and Mark taking turns applying pressure to my back through my contractions. I was still mostly laboring on the couch on all fours or leaned up against the wall, and contractions were probably 3 minutes apart and STRONG. I don’t remember much around this, but I knew I was going to throw up and that I didn’t want to do that in the dining room—there was still a rational part of my brain working briefly and I convinced them to move the bucket to the kitchen just in time. That then made me want a shower, even though I hadn’t thrown up on myself I wanted to feel clean before I got in the birth tub I guess.

But so began the ‘Bathroom phase’ of my labor—which is a blurry, and not as positive phase—the water in the shower wasn’t warm enough, and felt terrible touching me, the bathtub was cold and hard and didn’t allow Mark to give me the counter pressure I needed. At some point in here (7:45 a.m. from what they tell me) our other midwives arrived and I have a hazy memory of A., the third person on our team coming into the bathroom and telling me I was doing a good job, and then K. coming in and suggesting that they check me. 

Knowing that 1) I would have to lay down for that and 2) if they told me I was only 4cm I would have DIED, in my head I entered the “I don’t know if I can do this phase”. I told them I couldn’t lay down to be checked and somehow I became convinced that if I left the bathroom they’d want to check me so I kept saying no to moving into the birth tub too. And kept asking Mark to make sure it wasn’t too early to get in the tub.

Somehow they talked me into getting in the tub, and I was SO happy once I was in the warm water; it was just what I needed. In hindsight, I know I hit transition in the bathroom. Once I was in the tub it was clear to me that my baby was on his way out and we just needed to work together to make that happen. 

I was laboring leaning against the side of the tub, holding both of Marks hands through the contractions (it’s a miracle I didn’t break his fingers!) for the hour of pushing before we met our baby. I know that K. was talking me through the time in the tub, but I was in “laborland” and only recall her telling me to reach down and feel Baby’s head as he started to crown, and I didn’t feel like I could change positions long enough to do that, but after she had Mark look and suggested it again, I finally reached down and felt this velvety, pointy little head and it was just the inspiration I needed to get through the rest of the pushing. 

That and as they monitored his heart tones they were moving the Doppler down with each contraction—so I could tell I was making progress, since his heart was moving down. I don’t know how long it was between feeling his head and his entrance into the world, but I remember K. telling me what to do when he emerged and the next thing I knew he was gasping and blinking in my arms, and Mark was right there with us. He was absolutely perfect.

It’s been five days since he made us a family of three, and I have spent all day every day in bed with him, marveling at him and the entire process of pregnancy and giving birth.

A Woman Knows What To Do- A Birth Story

Love this birth story because mama takes charge at the end!  (You have to read it to know what I mean.)  And of course, anybody who says that  I make  "being a mom look as cool as being a rockstar!" is totally going to get a spot on the blog.  I just love getting birth stories from women who have been reading the blog through their pregnancies.  Thank you!

Enjoy~

 It has taken me a few weeks to begin writing this story for two reasons. Firstly, the birth ordeal made me temporarily an invalid, who had a hard enough time taking care of herself, much less a new baby without any prior experience in motherhood. Secondly, and more tangibly, it is not easy for me to relive the experience in detail because it was so emotional and overwhelming, and in some ways, downright frightening. Yet I suppose I must relate the story at some point, so here I go...

     The night of April the 1st I began having what I described to my husband, Forrest, as "painful" contractions, and so I got a little excited that it might be time! Little did I know I was just in for a night of prodromal labor and that my first-time-mom butt had no idea what a "painful" contraction was.

      Cut to the next night, I had some more of these "painful" contractions, but I assumed (since it was my real due date and NO ONE in my family could possibly deliver any sooner than two weeks late) that it was more practice contractions, and so I decided to let Forrest sleep. He slept and slept. He slept through me getting in and out of the bathtub several times to try and cope with the pain. He slept through me trying to put counter pressure on my OWN back and tearing up every time I knew a another "fake" contraction was coming. I would like to officially state here that I am a superhero for not waking him up. I am glad I didn't because I needed him to be on the ball the next day, but seriously, I thought I was dying. Finally around 5 a.m. I moaned right in his face something about how I might very well be in labor, and he began to take notice. We pulled up the contraction timer on my tablet and started timing them to see if they were getting organized and regular. They were. WHAT. THE. CRAP. I can't have a baby! It's not time! (Is what I started telling Forrest when he informed me it was time to call the midwife and go in.) Lucky for me I have the most incredible, level headed, works-well-under-pressure husband ever. We called Leslie around 6 am and she agreed that I was likely to have the baby later that afternoon. Leslie's on-call shift was about to end and so we called Carol about an hour later and she agreed to meet us at 8:30 at the birth center. We also called my mom and dad to start driving up from Corpus Christi and one of my best friends:  the most incredible photographer I know, Sarah.  We got everything together and on the way to the birth center I had maybe one or two contractions that weren't that bad. Forrest started worrying that I had quit laboring, but little did he know that things were about to get real.

When we arrived at the birthing center, Makayla, the nurse on call with Carol, began her job of being amazing and wonderful. She got out two birth balls, and I sat on one while Forrest sat on the other and rubbed my back during contractions. By the way, the counter pressure was so great, it almost took the pain away during those earlier contractions. Poor Forrest would just try and do what I asked as I would call out, "Harder!  No, softer! Up! Down!" in rapid succession. To get my labor going faster, Makayla made me some Rasberry leaf tea with black and blue cohosh. It worked. The contractions got harder and more frequent. Carol then advised that we go outside and walk around during contractions to help them work better for me. We went out on the deck and I walked and walked and walked. I walked right through contractions and drank water and ate my peanut butter sandwich.

After a while we went back up into our room so that Carol could see how I was progressing. When I first got to the birth center that morning I was a 4, and when she checked me the second time around lunch time I was a 5! Since I went into this basically expecting to be in labor for days I was always happy with any progress. Right after being checked, Sarah arrived.  That was a fun moment. Forrest informed me that she was on her way up so I might want to put my pants back on (they were off from the aforementioned check) and when I declined and said I didn't care, he exclaimed, and I will never forget this,  "You have lost your modesty! That means you are getting close!" He learned that in the Bradley class. I love that man.

Soon after Sarah arrived, Makayla began filling up the tub for me to get into and I got super excited. Up to this point I was making jokes and talking through contractions. My mom got there just after I got into the tub and I cried when I saw her. I honestly believe that my labor became fast and furious at that point because I was waiting for her to get there. It was so important to me that she get to share in this incredible event in my life, and after driving 7 hours through tornadic weather, she arrived just in time!

When I first got into the tub it felt so nice, but soon the contractions became so tough that with each one I had to jolt up from my relaxed position and hang my head over the edge, blow air through my lips like a horse, and stroke a soft towel that was under my head to try and distract myself. I could no longer talk at all through them. I remember at this point looking at Sarah and mumbling "No flash!", which is why from then on she had to do what she could with a borrowed rebel camera at 1600 f 1.4 and only 4 candles lighting the room.

I wanted SO BADLY to have a water birth, but for whatever reason, being in the warm water made me feel faint and so Carol decided I needed to get out and cool off. Throughout my labor Makayla would frequently check the baby's heart rate, and it was always good, but I knew it was not safe for a laboring woman to feel woozy, so I got out and laid on the bed.

Carol checked me again and said I was a good 7 with some cervical lip that was being stubborn. She broke my water to help things along more and soon I got the feeling of being "pushy", but it did not feel like I thought it would. I was under the impression, based on some of the birth stories I had read, that I would like this feeling but I did not. I sat backwards on the toilet and pushed a little bit, and then Carol suggested I go and hang onto one of the posts of the bed while squatting on the floor. While I did this she held back the last bit of cervix that wouldn't recede while I pushed. This is where painful became excruciating. I said a few words during this time that ladies do not usually utter, I may have claimed that I truly was going to die, and I asked repeatedly how much longer it would be until it was over. Unfortunately there was no answer to my question at the time, but it would be less than an hour.

As it turns out it was for the best that I was way way into "labor land" by this point, because tornado sirens were going off and candles were being lit in case the power went out and I don't even recall noticing. According to Sarah it only took me about 6 pushing contractions at this point to get him all the way out once my cervical lip was gone. I did not know it at this point, but I had torn a bit toward the front of my lady area and so Carol asked me to lay on the bed. This was probably so that gravity would be off that area, and to decrease my bleeding. I pushed and pushed, and cursed and cursed, and before I knew it I felt the strangest feeling I have ever felt in my life. A head was coming out of me! Now THIS was the only part of second stage labor that I can say I liked. I knew it was almost over and I finally remembered why I was doing it.

After baby's head came out, Carol turned to Forrest and told him to reach down and grab his son. He was not prepared for this, and in his bewildered state went to grab the baby with one hand on either side of my left thigh. There was a moment of confusion as he realized that he could not pick the baby up that way. In my eternal impatience I did not wait for things to get figured out, and instead reached down, pulled Augustine Ransom  out of myself, and brought him to my chest at 4:26 p.m.  It is worth noting that my mother retold this part to all of her friends and relatives as if I had leaped a tall building in a single bound.

Forrest holds my hand while I get stitched up...

When Augie came out, it was like meeting someone I had known my entire life for the very first time. He was a little bit purple in the face because he was tilted slightly to the side before he came all the way out, and also he came out with his right hand against his face. Both of these things probably factored significantly into the ouchy-ness of my labor. His eyes were, and still are, big and dark blue. He has a full head of blond hair that flips me out every time I look at him. Three weeks in, and he is still not much of a crier but rather just lets out a yelp once and awhile as if to say, "HEY! I need milk/cuddles/a new diaper." I love to watch him sleep, and I just absolutely cannot believe that he is the same little person who grew inside of me for nine months.  The same little person I talked to, bargained with, and loved so much before I ever saw him. I can't wait to see who he becomes and then let him read this story, and all the others I plan to write, to remind him who he was when he first started out...

When It Comes To Birth, Do We Want Something For Nothing?

Sometimes it seems that everybody wants something for nothing.

Free advice all over the internet just there for the taking.  Free information.  Free samples, free printers, free encyclopedias and even religions. 

I hate to rain on the parade, but I don't think there is a such thing as something for nothing.  Sadly, on this one point, my hubby just might be right-

"You get what you pay for."

The recent reports of that gal Jessica Simpson and her elective c-section to "avoid" labor pain (this isn't about JS so please don't comment about her.  Hold yourself back.)  brought out the commentators.  Lots of women pointed out that there IS pain with a c-section.  It doesn't come at the time of birth, but it does come after during the recovery.

Then there is the epidural.  It promises a magical way for women to experience birth without feeling any pain whatsoever.  Then again, it does increase other complications and even trouble with breastfeeding.  This most popular and effective form of pain management is also not without problems.

There is also a lot of talk in the natural birth community about "painless" or "orgasmic" birth.  Of course, some women do experience a birth that is free of pain and that is euphoric and beautiful without any medications.  In my own tiny experience I have had a birth that was relatively painless, one that was quick and all were euphoric at their close.

Still- I reject the idea that any of us can get something for nothing.

The idea is really....silly.  And when it comes to the most important of life's events like birth, motherhood, family, and parenting, it is a stupid and dangerous lie.

Why is it stupid and dangerous?  Because when we believe we can get something for nothing we make dangerous decisions.  We think if we just choose X then we will have it easy.  Everything will be perfect.  There will be no pain.  There will be no consequences.

This is simply false.

And I fear that if people think that things in life are SUPPOSED to be easy- what do they do when the going gets tough?  Walk away?  Run away?  Scream like hell?  Leave our kids?  Our marriages?  Our lives?

No.

One of the hardest days of my life was the day I realized that life wasn't going to "get easy" for me at some magical point.  I suddenly realized that life would always be filled with transitions, difficulties, growth and (here is the good part) BEAUTY.  There would always be a combination of the divine and the hard, the difficult and the joyful.

It seems hard, this complicated life with pain and pleasure so intermingled.  But it isn't.  It is really a perfect design because none of us could really appreciate the good without the "other stuff."

Birth is no different than life.  There is no such thing as something for nothing.  We all have a road to walk to become mothers.  For some of us it is an amazing home birth, for others an unexpected c-section and for others it is even adoption.

When we get our babies though it is worth it- WHATEVER the price.  Often, the more we pay, the more we appreciate what we earned.

Guest Post- Healing The Post Baby Body, It IS POSSIBLE!

So excited to share a guest post from Bethany over at Fit2b Studio!  Thank you and and thanks for your knowledge and help. 

Enjoy~

Women don't usually like to talk about their bellies, especially not after having children. We often feel like our bodies have betrayed us, and we even end up HATING our bellies, HIDING our bellies... even HARMING our bellies in our attempts to heal. We are told that our muddled middle is "normal" and that we should just accept our new "mom bodies." But a couple years ago, I began to question how "normal" it really is for a mom to suffer silently with lower back pain and stress incontinence and separated abdominal muscles for the rest of her life?

What I unearthed was a major revelation about a muscular injury that typically plagues pregnant women yet affects men and children, too! It's a huge health issue that got about two paragraphs of inaccurate coverage in my group fitness certification through the Aerobics and Fitness Association of America (AFAA). It doesn't come up in a search of the American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM), the governing body of fitness, and when I talked to a high ranking lady in ACSM's certification department, she said my stories were unheard of. I talk to trainers from many other institutions all the time: ACE, P90x, Beachbody, 24-hour Fitness ... and they don't know what it is, how to prevent it, or how to train around it. I had to find answers on my own.

I myself am a fitness professional with a bachelors degree in Exercise and Sport Science from OSU, several certifications in group fitness from AFAA, and 16 years of experience working in the fitness industry, but I was basically blind to this until a year ago when I got fed up with my own post-natal body and how all my expertise seemed to be making my belly worse!

"It" is diastasis recti - pronounced "die-ass-tuh-sees" - and it is a split in the outermost abdominals (six pack). It affects a man's prostate health and a woman's pelvic floor. It is characterized by an extremely weak transverse abdominus (TA) muscle. The what muscle? Yeah, most people haven't heard of that one, even though it's WAY bigger and more powerful and more important that your six-pack. In other words, you can ditch the crunches, planks and situps because they won't fix what's broken.

The main way to work the TA muscle is to "draw in" the navel, thus taking pressure off those outermost abdominal muscles while allowing them to knit back together. However, if your body has experienced any of the following scenarios, you've spent a LOT of time doing the opposite of "hollowing" your belly and activating your transverse: 

• worked in a job where you slouch or lean over a lot
• had any kind of abdominal surgery, including c-sections, hernia repair, abdominioplasty
• more than one pregnancy
• multiples in pregnancy
• long pushing phase in labor
• chronic coughing
• chronic constipation where you have to bear down

The transverse abdominus acts as our God-given back brace - some call it a corset or a seat belt. However, the catch-22 is that people with diastasis have often lost their ability to target their TA muscle, and they think they're fat. They joke about their "pot belly" and how their six pack is hiding under a "keg," and then they do endless ab work that bulges and distends the area further, making the diastasis worse because all of that outward or forward/forceful pressure just pushes that split open more, literally ripping it like the seam on a pair of old pants.

Just do a crunch for yourself, and see what your belly does. I'd ask you to do a sit up, but those are just awful and put so much pressure - not only on the seam of connective tissue in your abs that helped you make room for a baby, but also inside your spine! I don't care what scantily-clad fitness icon tells you to do a sit-up; they're just a hand-picked model to be the face of that particular fitness brand, and he or she hasn't carried an extra 45 pounds in their midsection for 9 months!!!

Last week, I was invited to speak to a group of 60 moms of preschoolers in Salem, Ore. Many of them clapped, and several cried with HOPE as I told them that they could pursue ab rehab and stop doing the crunches and planks that they already knew were making them worse. I'm a horrible drawer, so I also got a lot of laughs at my sketches of a belly full of baby stretching out the abs and thinning the connective tissue of their linea alba. 

Scary truth: None of the women had been checked by their OBs, midwives or nurses. None had been told to bind their bellies after giving birth. Over 40 women stood in line to have their bellies checked by me after I spoke, and I spent the next 90 minutes on my knees with my hands in pulsing, separated abdominal walls. I asked each woman several questions: When did you have your last child? What did you do for exercise before, during and after giving birth? Do you pee your pants? 

It's personal. Very personal, and I always ask, "Is it okay for me to feel your belly? May I ask you some personal questions." But women are so desperate for hope and truth, that they don't care! They want answers! And we talk about it whenever we're together anyway, right? 

Another scary truth: All but ONE of the women I checked that day had at least a 2-finger separation in her six-pack. The one woman who did not have a diastasis after having several children had never done any direct ab work and she did not suffer from stress incontinence. One of the women who did have a split was an ADOPTIVE mom who had been doing hundreds of crunches every day. Many of them had open pulses, meaning I could feel their inferior vena cava beneath my fingers the second I laid my hand on their tummies, meaning they also had super thin connective tissue. But three specific women caught my attention: 

One woman had two c-sections over 25 years ago, and she had a 5-finger split, and a huge pulse at her navel! She had been doing sit ups to try to flatten her stomach. Her two c-sections were standing right there, waiting to be checked, holding their own babies, her grandchildren. So I proceeded to check her daughters. Her eldest had also had two c-sections; she was a 4-split with medium connective tissue (faint pulse). She had done a few crunches, but mostly ran to stay in shape. The youngest daughter had just had her first baby 6 months prior; she had only a 3-finger split but thick connective tissue still. She had only walked during and after pregnancy. 

What does that tell me? It justifies all that I'm reading about how the abs are affected by pregnancy, how one doesn't need to be pregnant to ruin their bellies, how direct ab work adversely affects the healing process, and how c-sections disconnect women from that healing process.

If you suffer from any of the things I've discussed, don't resign yourself to "dealing with it." There is hope. You can find a trainer or physical therapist who knows how to help you heal. My site at Fit2B Studio is full of "tummy safe" exercises that won't make your bulge and your diastasis worse, and I building a worldwide Diastasis Directory that I dream will one day provide an expert in every city. 

Here is what I recommend that you consider:

• First, you can perform a self-check by CLICKING HERE for a free "how to" video on my site. If you sign up for my newsletter, you get a free 10-minute "Totally Transverse" core routine that will help you find and activate your TA muscle. 
• If you've had abdominal surgery and/or you have a very wide diastasis with thin connective tissue, look into The Tupler Technique for hands-on rehab with a licensed Tupler provider.
• If you feel you have little control of your core, but your diastasis isn't too bad, look into The MuTu System for mummy tummies. Wendy is a member of Fit2B Studio (my site) and she has an AWESOME 12-week online program that will baby-step you toward major core strength.
• If you have closed your diastasis and/or it's almost closed, and you have no idea how to work your core without doing crunches and situps, then consider me! Fit2B Studio offers safer exercises for stronger tummies. Our wholesome workouts for the whole family are available in unlimited downloads to our members. You'll find your core and never be able to lose it again! 

It's not "normal" for you to have a baby and then fall apart. Well, maybe some have accepted it as normal, but it's not acceptable! You can heal your diastasis in just 6-12 weeks. You can workout and have a rock-solid core without doing crunches in crazy amounts. You can jump on a trampoline and carry your kid for a mile without paying for it in pads. You have hope now. Seize it!

Peaceful Home Birth With a True Knot in the Cord

This is the kind of story that I want every woman to read when she is pregnant.  It shows that birth is amazing and magical.  It shows that even though they all have variations- that doesn't mean they are weird or dangerous.  Birth is unique every time, but it need not be feared. 

Enjoy~

            Despite the fact that my first 2 children decided to come post-due date, I was still really hoping that my 3^rd would come earlier.  I think pregnancy is such an amazing journey, and one to be cherished and appreciated… but once I hit those last few weeks, a switch is “flipped” in my head where I start to become a crazy/anxious/depressed woman.  With this pregnancy, we found out at 20 weeks that we were expecting our 3^rd little girl and were ecstatic.  As my due date approached, the house had been organized and labeled to oblivion, and I. Was. Ready.  After witnessing my friend home birth 2 years prior, and then doing a lot of research and soul-searching, I found myself craving the same serene, love-rich environment.  Bob and I took the Bradley Method class series from a local instructor, and I also did the Hypnobabies home study course.  I was determined to enjoy the process to the fullest extent.  

            As my due date approached and passed, I became focused on making relaxation my #1 commitment.  I saw my chiropractor and acupuncturist often.  I listened to my Hypnobabies tracks multiple times a day.  I bounced on the birth ball, drank raspberry leaf tea, had sex, ate curry, took baths, ate spicy Mexican food, drank a glass of wine, and tried to listen to my body.  On Sunday, March 4^th 2012, we awoke with the intent of going to church, getting a bite to eat in town, and then running several errands.   

I started having pressure waves (contractions) in church, and almost felt annoyed at their presence.  I had been having them on and off for a week or more and they never seemed to amount to anything other than continued exhaustion.  I mentioned to my friend Ashley in church that I had a few during the service and her excited reaction made me feel loved, but I wasn’t hopeful.  The waves weren’t enough to distract me too much, and I could barely tell when they were really starting and stopping.  After the service we asked our girls where they wanted to eat lunch, and they requested Red Robin (“they give out BALLOONS, Mom!”).   

By the time we took our seats at the restaurant and ordered our food, I was noticing the pressure waves more and more.  I was surprised that even though I felt relaxed, that they were now staying consistent.  I ordered a turkey burger and broke out my cell phone to start keeping track of the waves.  As time passed, things started to get more serious and I felt like I needed to get my (normally very comfortable and elastic) skirt off.  I inhaled the middle portion of my burger and told Bob it was time to get the check.  By the time we got to the car I was ripping off my skirt out of discomfort.   

We got home around 1:30pm, and I sent our midwives a text to let them know that things were picking up.  I was still unsure if they would continue, so I didn’t request them to start driving yet (they live just over an hour away). Bob went into high gear- straightening the house like a tidying madman.   He filled up the birth tub with super hot water, assuming it would be a while before I needed it. I sat on my birth ball and tried to welcome the waves, concentrating on the word OPEN.  

 By 3pm I knew we were in business and I figured we might have a baby by morning.  The pressure waves were demanding my focus now, so I had Bob call the midwives to tell them to head over. I texted a few friends and let them know to come over.  Quickly I lost the ability to concentrate on anything else during the waves and then suddenly I yearned for the tub.   

I remember thinking that I wanted to wait as long as possible before getting in, afraid it would slow down my labor… but when the time came, there was no stopping me.  By 4pm our house was an excited bustle of loving support- we had our family of 4 (almost 5!), our dog Koda, our 3 midwives, 4 friends (Ashley, Maya, Beth, and Kristin), and my mother and stepfather.  My pressure waves were demanding so much of my attention that my early labor period (where I thought I would be chatting between waves and baking with company) was nonexistent.

Brielle and Finley, who are 6 and 4 years old, kept busy with the loved ones around, checking in on mommy every so often.  They had prepared for the birth by watching many birth videos, reading homebirth-centered books, and had lots of long chats.  I was so relieved to see that they didn’t seem scared in the slightest- they went straight to work as I labored; excitedly pouring water on my back or patting my arm as the waves overcame me.  

At this point in my head I was making all kinds of sad noises, but those around me said I labored silently.  One thing I made quite clear, however- I needed Bob to give counter-pressure to my back labor during EVERY pressure wave.  If he rubbed or pressed incorrectly or started 1 second too late, the back pain was unbearable.  He has since told me that the amount of pressure I was requesting made him worry that he would rub my skin off, bruise me badly, or both.  But it was what I desperately needed and without his patience and stamina, I don’t know how I would have made it through.  His concentration on me became my ability to concentrate in labor.  If he focused on the girls, or answering someone’s question while I was in a pressure wave it hurt so much worse…. and I let him know it! 

At some point during labor one of the midwives whom I had grown very close to came over to check on me and told me, “Britt, its time to go inside”.  From that point on, I got to work.  Each pressure wave demanded all of my attention and overall, I really wasn’t “present” at all.  I now resided completely in laborland, unable to hear anyone around me unless I purposefully focused (for example, during the times the midwives came to check baby’s heartbeat).  Our girls bustled about, chatting with friends or eating dinner downstairs, and the midwives were nearby in the bedroom knitting and listening with stunning wisdom.   

As long as Bobby was focused on me, I felt in control and focused on letting the waves work their magic.  Back labor is no joke, people. I tried to work on my hands and knees as much as possible to move baby into a better position.  One of the midwives suggested early on that I roll my hips between the pressure waves and that I squat during them.  All of my being was focused on the task of trying not to fight each pressure wave, but to rather let it dilate me more and more. 

At times the waves seem short and intense, and after some time, they got longer and sometimes they wouldn’t “let go”.   I opened up my hips, lunging on one leg during a pressure wave, and put pressure on the inside of my groin for focus. During the next wave, I placed two fingers inside my vagina to see if baby’s station was progressing (I still had never requested a cervical check by the midwives), and I could feel that baby’s head was really far down.  I felt my cervix as the pressure wave continued- a particularly difficult one.  This moment I will ever forget.  As the pain increased and my body became tense, I felt my cervix hold steady.  I was so tired, yet so centered on meeting my baby girl.  So I concentrated on relaxing myself (thinking “OPEN”, “RELAX”, “BREATHE”) through the pain, and as I did this, I felt my cervix thin and melt further underneath my fingertips.  It was the craziest feeling- I was relaxing myself into dilating!  My bag of waters felt smooth like rubber, unbroken.  

After a few more pressure waves, I felt some rectal pressure and wondered if I would need to push soon.  As the next one started, I realized it wasn’t her head that I needed to push out… it was poop.  I motioned towards the bathroom door (only 2 feet away from the tub), climbed out quickly with some assistance, and closed myself into the tiny room.  Outside of the bathroom I heard the room erupt in excited chatter, as everyone who had been trying so desperately to respect our quiet space broke concentration with anxious (and loud!) anticipation.  I filled the toilet with poop during my next pressure wave; so very happy that I wasn’t in the tub.   

I made a mental note that I needed to RACE back to my husband’s massaging hands and the warmth of the water because HOLY COW it was so much more painful without them.  I quickly wiped, flushed, and flew back to the tub, surprising everyone in the room.  My next wave began, and one of the midwives asked me if I had a bowel movement in the bathroom.  I nodded yes and got into position again. I felt Bobby touch my butt and I scolded him saying, “stop touching my butt!”.  I later found out that I hadn’t quite emptied my colon… and what I thought was hubby’s hands was actually a fishnet taking care of a rogue turd, ha! 

On all fours now, despite being relatively silent previously, I started making a deep, guttural sound deep in my chest.  I said, “I’m pushing”.  This caught everyone by surprise and they all sprung into action, grabbing cameras and yelling for my daughters to come into the room.  During that wave, I felt my bag of waters burst into my hand, and her head bulged out right behind it.  There was actually no “pushing” on my part- my body was in charge!  Her head seemed to pop out suddenly, and my mind was racing.  

The next wave came and I squeezed her body out of me, right into my husbands waiting hands.  In one smooth movement, I turned over and she was passed under my leg, and then placed on my fast beating heart at 6:51pm.   

I held her there in complete shock of the speed at which she was just born.  Then I looked and saw her face- pink, alert, and perfect.  Intensely beautiful.  

Welcome to our world, Emory.

Brielle and Finley somehow were immediately in the pool, and the look on their faces cannot be explained in words.  Daddy’s first words were, “She is beautiful, honey!”  We all held her, kissed her, and stared at her for quite a while.  After about 15 minutes or so, I birthed her placenta. The girls were particularly interested in knowing all about it- the midwife took her time to show them every detail and explained things in depth.  Brielle gladly took on the task of cutting the cord.  One interesting side note- baby girl had a perfect “true” knot in her cord.  

We hung out in the tub and Emory nursed vigorously.  She continued to nurse frequently the rest of the evening too.  Afterwards, I passed her out of the tub and into the arms of some very eager friends, family, and midwives who continued the lovefest.  I showered, got dressed, and got into my very comfortable bed where we nursed and cuddled some more.  She weighed in at 8lbs, 4oz and was 19.5inches in length.   I felt amazing.  My husband looked blissfully content.  My older girls were fascinated.  And my baby was alert, chubby, and calm.  I feel immense gratitude to have experienced Emory’s birth in the comfort of my home with such wise, experienced midwives at hand. 

Potty Training Reality- A Picture

My dad sent me this picture.  I laughed so hard.  I cropped out the child, but there is a very proud little naked boy next to his work.  Kids are so literal. 

The caption,  "I poop on the potty!" 

Have a great weekend! 

A Natural Hospital Birth of Identical Twins

Wow.  

I don't really think there are many words I can add to this.  Incredible mother.  Incredible support.  Fantastic birth and perfect babies.  
You can read the original blog post HERE.

Enjoy!

After experiencing a cascade of interventions during my son Ryder’s birth, almost 3 years ago, I was determined to get the joyful birth experience I so longed for, with my twins.

As soon as my partner Aaron and I discovered that we were expecting twins (oh my gosh, SHOCK!), I immediately started planning the twins’ birth. I ordered Elizabeth Noble’s book Having Twins and More, where I learned that I was expecting monozygotic (identical) twins and started to understand everything about my twin babies and what choices I had in relation to their birth. And what little options I seemed to have in our city Townsville. Elizabeth Noble reassured me that my wishes for a natural twin birth were not unreasonable and I began to get excited, looking forward to everything that was yet to come.

 

I soon met my doula Liz and after meeting her only once, I knew that I needed her at my birth and I asked her for her assistance. Liz said she would be happy to help me and I know I wouldn’t have had such a successful natural birth without her help.

20 weeks

As I began to attend my public hospital’s appointments, I started to realise that it was going to be very difficult to achieve the natural birth I wanted in hospital. I received a lot of different info in relation to the Townsville Hospital’s ‘Twin Guidelines’ from the different registrars I saw throughout the pregnancy. Towards the end of my pregnancy, I asked for a copy of the 'TTH Twin Guidelines' which were given to me and as I suspected, there were things that were conflicting with what I had been told by the registrars. I had been told by an obstetrician that it was necessary to ensure speedy delivery of the second twin following the birth of the first twin but the hospital guidelines state that as long as the second twin is doing well (good heart beat, good position), there is NO NEED to rush delivery of the second twin. What happens to the women who don't know to ask for a copy of the hospital's twin guidelines?

I read the most amazing online article by Homebirth Australia's Justine Caines, called "High risk?" Defined by Whom?', which confirmed in my mind that a natural twin birth was very achievable but my safest option in order to achieve this would be to have a homebirth. I had always planned that my second birth would be at home, I just never expected twins! I organized a meeting at our home with a private midwife named Alan and his wife. Alan was lovely and I started to feel very positive about a homebirth but I really did want 2 midwives for the twins. The only other local homebirth midwife was my friend Honey, who had attended Ryder’s birth as a student midwife, but she was getting married at the time that the twins were due to be born and I knew she was very busy, as well as that I couldn’t afford both her and Alan. Aaron and I could not financially afford the costs of 2 midwives. And with that, I finally made the decision that I was not entirely confident to birth the twins at home with Alan alone and I decided that I would birth the twins at our public hospital with the help of Liz :)

 36 weeks

I began doing extensive research on natural twin birth, I did lots of reading, I watched lots of twin births online and I made a very detailed birth plan (and an emergency c-section plan). I took the birth plan to one of my hospital appointments and the reaction I received from the Registrar was horrific.  She was so negative and doubtful of my wishes and ‘warned’ me of the high risk of my babies dying without the ‘necessary’ hospital interventions. I had many registrars say the same things to me. I finally went to see a local midwife Penny, who worked at both the hospital and the community ‘Hut’ for midwifery appointments during pregnancy. Penny was the midwife I had been looking for, although she was unable to attend my birth and she suggested writing a letter to the Director of Obstetrics and Midwifery Operations Director at The Townsville Hospital, requesting the continuity of care from one midwife, that my babies and I deserved.

I received a reply from the head of Obstetrics, agreeing to my request but explaining that the reason ‘high risk births’ are not offered continuity of care at the Townsville hospital was due to financial affordability – which I have since learned is rubbish! I also received a letter from the acting director of Midwifery, advising that she would be happy to meet with me to discuss my preferences and we organized a time to meet for the following week. Throughout this entire process, I actually felt very confident and relaxed about my preferences. Some may have seen it as fighting with the system, as it probably was but I was confident enough with my ability to birth the way I wanted that it didn’t feel like a fight at all. I kind of enjoyed the process, as I saw it as opening the hospital staff's eyes to the realization that twin births deserve to be treated the same as singleton births if all is well.



At 37 weeks and 3 days, I enjoyed a beautiful Mother’s Blessing, put together by a lovely circle of friends. It was the perfect day and I left feeling very blessed and with a birthing necklace and birthing flags, created by friends and family. The following night around 8pm, I felt a little trickle of fluid down below. It wasn’t very significant so I didn’t think too much of it. But little bits of fluid continued to slowly trickle over the next 1-2 hours, until I called my doula Liz to ask if your waters could break slowly over time, which she said yes but to not worry and to just continue to monitor things for now. Shortly after I felt a pain in my lower stomach which felt like wind and I continued to have a few more of these over the next hour and I finally had to sit on the toilet, feeling like I may actually need to go to the toilet! When I realised it wasn't wind, I called Liz again (while still sitting on the toilet!), to describe the pains I was getting as I was very unsure of it all. And while I was talking to Liz, the pains became quite frequent and regular and I said that I was now pretty sure they were contractions! Liz said that to keep monitoring things and that she would start getting ready. Around 12-1am, I called Liz to tell her that it seemed that my contractions were around a minute apart and that we would be going to hospital. Liz was going to meet us there. Aaron called my parents to come get Ryder, while I was having a quick shower and I told Aaron that when my parents arrived to pick up Ryder, I did NOT want to see my parents and to keep them away. I was not in a state to talk! So I hid in the bedroom when they arrived, while I continued to pack the hospital bag which we STILL hadn’t packed! Before we left for the hospital, Aaron asked me where the ‘name list’ was, as we still hadn’t decided on boys’ names!

 

When we arrived at the hospital, I gave my birth plan and letter of informed consent to the midwife who was assigned to us for the first stage of my labour. She went over the notes and once again, warned me of all of the risks, bla bla bla…..luckily, I was focusing on breathing my way through the now very painful contractions, that her annoying words were not bothering me. I signed the letter of informed consent as per the painful midwife’s request and I went back to labouring.

 

My birth plan was very detailed, including no continuous electronic foetal monitoring (much to the first midwife’s horror), intermittent monitoring via Doppler only, no vaginal examinations, no routine epidurals, no forceps, no directed pushing, delayed cord clamping, any baby examinations to be done either later or whilst baby is on my chest, among many others! This was mine and Aaron’s birth and we were in control, not the hospital staff.

  

I spent the first stage of labour mostly in the warm bath with Aaron right next to me and Liz close by.  I moved around and leaned over the edge of the tub, eyes closed, breathing my way through the excruciating pain. At one stage, I found myself thinking how good an epidural would be right now and I told Liz that I understand why so many women get epidurals and c-sections and that the contractions were terrible. Liz smiled and said that contractions were awesome. The thought of contractions being “awesome” put me back on a positive track and I went back to breathing my way through the pain.
 

While the first midwife was still on shift, she came and asked me if I would please agree to some electronic monitoring, despite my birth plan. I said no but she continued to harass me
until I agreed to 10 minutes at the MOST of monitoring, as long as I could remain upright. I put the 2 belts on (one for each baby) and over time she returned and asked if I could keep it on longer than 10 minutes. I asked Aaron, who had been watching the monitor results, if the heart beats were fine and he told me with confidence that everything was fine and it was just that the stupid machine that had been skipping! I happily trusted Aaron and told the midwife that I was finished and was taking off the belt. Naturally she was not happy but what did I care?! Of course she wasn’t happy as she had no trust in a woman’s ability to labour without the electronics that she had been trained to rely on.

Finally, the ‘painful midwife’ finished her shift and Helen Coxhead, the acting director of midwifery, who I had arranged to meet up with that morning, arrived at my birth and took over. Helen and another midwife continued to check the twins’ heartbeats with a Doppler while I laboured in different positions and respected my request for no VE’s. It was proving to be slightly difficult to find the heartbeats of both babies in different positions but Helen was a lot more experienced and trusting and persisted with the Doppler and a portable ultrasound. The babies were still anterior, heads down as they had been the entire pregnancy.

Things continued progressing well and I remember realizing that I was in transition. I was on the floor on all fours with a sheet or towel draped over me, when my silence changed to moaning and I began shuddering involuntarily as I breathed through each contraction. I could not stop the gentle moaning and shuddering and I knew this meant that things were progressing quickly. Looking back, it actually felt amazing. I never experienced the feeling of transition with Ryder’s birth due to an epidural.

Finally, it was said that the first baby was on its way down and I sat on the birthing stool with Aaron on a chair behind me so that he could put his arms around me for me to grip on to as tightly as possible. When Helen told us that she could see baby’s head, Liz asked Aaron if he wanted to catch the baby and I quickly cried “NO!” as I needed to keep gripping onto him. Liz suggested that she swap with Aaron (which at the time I wasn’t thrilled about only because I didn’t want Aaron to move at all but I just let her and Aaron do their thing – and thank god for Liz!!) and let me grip on to her so that Aaron could catch the baby as we had planned. I started to feel the stinging and burning as the first baby’s head started to come out and I could not BELIEVE the pain. I continued to push as Aaron waited to catch the baby and at 9.25am, my first baby was born and Aaron passed her up to me and I held the baby in absolute relief, awe and joy! I was in so much amazement that I had not even thought to check the sex of the baby until Aaron asked me if I had checked! I had a look and saw it was a girl and I sobbed in disbelief and absolute JOY! I had been so certain we were having boys and I could not believe it. We were going to have TWO GIRLS!!! I asked Aaron if he wanted to name the first baby (out of the 2 girls names that we had already decided on of course!) and he happily said that our first baby was Tyler Jane, 2.83kg :)

It wasn’t too long after holding Tyler, that the contractions started again and I was told that Tyler’s cord had stopped pulsating & needed to be cut.  Aaron cut her cord and shortly after this I had to pass Tyler to Aaron so that I could concentrate on the new contractions of the second baby. By this time, I felt as though I had forgotten how to labour! I felt as though I had forgotten how to cope with the contractions. I quickly got myself back together and started again. At one stage the obstetrician who had now attended, asked me to get on the bed for an examination of some kind as they had been struggling to find the second baby’s heart beat. I have since been told that that the obstetrician was starting to use a couple of scare tactics in order to convince me to be examined but I explained to them that I could FEEL the pushing pressure on my bottom, the same pressure I felt directly before I started pushing Tyler out. I said that I just knew she was coming, so they agreed to let me get onto the birthing stool and an hour and 10 minutes after Tyler was born, our second baby was born into the midwife’s hands and this baby was passed up to me. Our second beautiful twin, Peyton Rose, 2.97kg, was perfectly healthy also and I could not believe that I had just successfully given birth to my twins :)  

Peyton remained with me until I knew I was ready to birth their shared placenta and she was then passed to Liz, our doula (I chose for the girls to go to Aaron & Liz, as I felt the need to be hands free to cope with the contractions).

I had planned a natural third stage but I was starting get very faint as I was losing a lot of blood. I was feeling very sick and almost fainted each time I stood up. I quickly agreed to some syntocinon to get this placenta born! And shortly after, the twins’ 1.13kg placenta was born. The placenta was given to Liz who took it to be encapsulated. It was an amazing placenta, with sac still intact over one part and the membrane which divided the girls inside the sac. Some friends of mine had the pleasure of seeing the girls' placenta when Liz took it back to her house and my friend Natelle still refers to it as being an incredible placenta!

 

After birthing the placenta, I felt better immediately, although because of the post-partum hemorrhage, I was cannulised to receive IV fluids for the next 24hrs. That didn’t bother me in the slightest. I had just birthed my twin GIRLS! And just the way I had wanted to. It was the most amazing experience of my life. I remember sobbing in happiness to Liz that I couldn’t believe that I “did it”. I remember Liz being a little bit teary in happiness too! It was such a magical experience.

I was then ready to get both girls for their first breastfeed. Tyler was given to me first since she had waited the longest and I couldn’t help but guide her to the breast, as I felt dreadful that she had waited so long for a feed! Peyton soon joined us for her first feed and both girls were happily attached and breastfed wonderfully. And both girls are still eagerly breastfeeding around the clock, 10 months later.

As Liz was preparing to leave, she stopped to tell me what a wonderful job I did. I broke down in more tears and told Liz that "I knew they were ok...I just knew everything was ok!" It was sheer awe and disbelief. I had listened to my own intuition and trusted my body. And the babies were ok, they were just perfect :)

Not long after the girls had their first feed and cuddle, it was time for the twins' big 3 year old brother Ryder to come visit :) Grandma & Grandad brought Ryder up to the hospital, after his very first sleep over at Grandma's. Ryder was amazed and excited. It was joyous. Ryder loves his little sisters and they adore him! They think he's absolutely hilarious, as he regularly makes them laugh. Ryder does manage to sneak in a few shoves here and there but as with everything, I know this too shall pass! I am so grateful to have such an adorable little family, such sweet children. I feel absolutely blessed.

Generally speaking, I had just had the most ordinary, NORMAL birth. So why has my story become such a big thing? Because many hospitals refuse treat multiple births as normal. Natural twin births ARE possible in a hospital environment with the right planning and the right support. It shouldn’t be a ‘fight for our rights’ with the system. NO woman should ever be told that they do not care about the welfare of their babies if they choose little or no interventions or if they choose to birth at home. Of course I cared about the welfare of my twins; this is WHY I wanted a natural birth. I was not ignoring hospital’s warnings that my babies could die, I just simply knew that their warnings were not justified. At a post birth appointment, a registrar told me that I put the hospital at risk. I knew this was not the case due to my letter of informed consent and it shouldn’t be my responsibility to care for the welfare of the hospital, as this was MY birth! I cannot believe what might have happened had I not voiced my preferences. I think I would have had a routine epidural after Tyler and then it would have all gone downhill from there. I did not have any unnecessary medical interventions (except the 10 minutes of monitoring when I took the belts off!). Thank goodness I was informed. Thank goodness that I prepared well. Thank goodness that I was so well prepared that there was no fear during my labour, I was not fearful at any point, which is why I think things went so well! I trusted my body, I trusted my babies and I trusted birth. All my love and thanks go to Aaron for being the rocking partner and dad that he is, to Liz for guiding me and supporting me throughout the pregnancy, birth and post birth (and for breastfeeding Peyton for me!) and to the midwives Penny and Helen for trusting a woman’s ability to birth naturally.

 If anybody would like a copy of my birth plan, letter of informed consent & my emergency c-section plan, please email me at carissa_aaron@yahoo.com.au.