The Twilight Saga and Modern Birth Stories

Warning- Spoiler Alert!
If you haven't read the Twilight Saga and don't want to know how it ends- stop reading now!

Vampire Birth-
I admit- I was totally addicted to the Twilight Saga (yeah - I know I am too old for that) and I like the movies too, but when I read the last one I hated the birth!
I realize it makes me a nut job to actually be upset by a fictional vampire birth but- hear me out- I have a few good reasons.

The Birth-
If you haven't read the books, the last one ends with the heroine (a human) pregnant with a vampire baby. Of course, who knows how this will work out! Can a human woman survive a vampire birth!?
As we get closer to the rapidly approaching due date mama is sick, this crazy baby is hurting her from the inside out, and then, suddenly, emergency strikes!
Mama starts bleeding and the only thing that can save her is- you guessed it- a vampire c-section! Things are pretty touch and go for a while but with the help of some blood transfusions, lots of emergency medicine, (luckily there was a doctor present for this home birth) and narcotics, mom and baby pull through. Their survival of the horrors of birth are of course all due to the emergency c-section that mom received! (Don't even get me started on the breastfeeding situation. You think it hurts to nurse a regular baby, try one with fangs!)

Real Birth Stories-
So this is all pretty dramatic and silly, but how similar does it sound to almost ALL of the birth stories I hear from women? Very similar in fact (except for the vampire part). Most women I talk to are so afraid of birth, especially home birth because they had to be "saved" from their last birth.
How many times have you heard this or similar phrases coming from the lips of a recently delivered woman:
"It's a good thing I was in the hospital, because XYZ went wrong and we just wouldn't have survived without the technology."
Does anybody notice that technology ABC (insert here continuous fetal monitoring, epidural, supine pushing or any other number of standard procedures) are what caused the need for emergency medicine in the first place?!

Birth Stories MATTER!
I love those books- I really do. But what kind of message are we sending to the women and young women in this country when all the birth stories they hear are like this? Why are so many of our birth stories actually horror stories that end with the damsel in distress (IE, mother in stirrups) being saved by her knight in shining armor (IE, obstetrical surgeon and his knife)?
Not only do women hear these same scary stories from almost every woman they meet- they are now in books and teenage literature.

Good Birth Stories
For all you mamas out there with good birth stories, I think it is time we started sharing them. I don't mean tell everybody how much better you think you are because you suffered without that epidural, I mean tell people about the JOY of natural birth. Let's give some of those new mamas the confidence they need to have a happy and beautiful, even orgasmic birth experience.
If you are looking to read some good birth stories, check out either of Ina Mae Gaskin's books, "Ina Mae's Guide to Childbirth" or "Spiritual Midwifery". Both have lots of safe natural births and both give you an idea of how different labor is for every woman.

Oh- and there are a TON on the blog!

My Amazing Oaxacan Birth

A new birth story- beautifully written- Enjoy!
~

As for my Labor Day, I’ve come to the conclusion that Guadalupe IS there and I must have done some serious favors for her in a past life, because my birth experience turned out to be absolutely INCREDIBLE. Not only was my labor super short (5 and a quarter hours total!) but the whole scene ended up looking and feeling the way I had wanted. (Actually, the feeling part I couldn’t have imagined. Pushing a baby the size of a watermelon out of an opening the size of a lemon is a pretty daunting task. Okay, it’s the most intense pain I’ve ever felt in my life, and task is probably the worst synonym I can come up with for labor, but I did it.) It was amazing, inspiring and empowering. And I know now, without a doubt, that I would do it again in the same way. But let’s go back to the beginning…

I had always thought that the day I gave birth I would wake up knowing, “this is the day.” Wrong-O. On my labor day, I got up just like it was any other day. I spent a good part of the morning at the market and then made a huge pot of chicken soup (talk about a random motherly thing to do – my Jewish mother would have been so proud.) While the stock simmered, one of my midwives, Cristina came over. We chatted for awhile, and after a quick check-up she told me I was 1 centimeter dilated. Since it often takes women days to get from 1 to 10 centimeters, Cristina assumed babe wouldn’t show up until the weekend… So, Miguel and I went about our day. We lunched with a friend. We attempted to take a siesta, but couldn’t fall asleep. We planned to see Soderberg’s CHE Part I at a local theater that nite after my Prenatal Yoga class…

Fast forward to early evening. There I am, stretched out in Warrior Two, breathing in through the nose, out through the mouth, tightening and releasing, working the pelvic floor muscles. I’m feeling great. After about an hour of exercise, it’s time for relaxation. As we all lay still in the dark, our Yoga instructor Lauren (also one of my midwives) makes her way around the room and puts a little dab of essential oil on the back of our necks. When she gets to me, she puts her hand gently on my neck, and all of a sudden I feel this intense CRACK in my pelvis. Then a ridiculous rush of pain runs from my womb straight up to my head and through my whole being. ((Shudder)) Oh. My. God. This is it.

I keep my game face on for three long OM’s. The rest of the Pregnant Yogis bid me farewell with smiles, suertes, and you can do its. Out in the courtyard, Miguel is waiting for me. It’s about 7:45. Despite my having what I think are four contractions right there outside the studio, we decide that we should still try and go to the movies, because, well, early labor is supposed to take a while and you should do normal things to pass the time. So we start walking to the theater.

Not five minutes into our walk, we’re in the middle of Jardin Conzatti, one of my favorite green spaces in Oaxaca, and there I am - hanging onto a tree for dear life. Yep, in labor, I’m an all out tree hugger. When the pain comes, I MUST MUST MUST get to a tree. Hold the tree. Put my hands up and grab onto those limbs. Pull down hard. Breathe fast. Whoo Whoo Whoo. After a few rounds of this Miguel realizes that passersby are staring, and we should probably get out of there. Besides, the contractions are 5 minutes apart at this point. (Miguel called our midwife, Cristina, who said to time them and call her back.) Wait – five minutes apart? Are you sure, Miguel? Isn’t that the “cue flight of the bumblebee” moment in the movies when the ladies rush off frantically to the hospital to scream their heads off? Why, yes – it is. My instinct tells me – go home. Go home. Go home. Che will have to wait. So we make our way home.

To get to the spot where we always hail cabs, we have to traverse a few blocks, another park, and (OOPS!) make a quick stop at a mini-market – (there are a few supplies we just realized that we haven’t got for the home birth). All the while I want to be hugging trees. I hate anything not naturesque. I’m pissed when I have to go through a contraction up against a graffiti covered concrete wall. I don’t want to be around people either. Just Miguel. Miguel and nature. Oh, and I want to walk in the grass. F the “keep off the grass” signs. There’s a nicely designed spiral grass formation in the middle of the park and I want to walk around and around it. I brave two contractions in the spiral and we jump into a taxi. The cab driver wants to bring me to the hospital, but, nope – we’re going home.

When we walk in the door, Miguel and I lose each other for a bit. He’s busy trying to fill up the birthing tub which we installed a week before. I’m busy trying to load two video cameras, (the small family one and my big professional one.) I need to load the tape, mount a microphone, set the timecode and white balance- but I keep on getting interrupted by these darn contractions! Come on, I tell myself, you’ve done this a million times – but I’m super distracted. In the meantime, Miguel realizes that we don’t have enough water to fill up the tub. (You see, unlike in NYC where there is a seemingly infinite stream of H2O coming from who knows where, here in the Global South, you have this tank of water on your roof. Every three weeks or so, you run out of water and have to pump water from a bigger underground tank up to the littler tank. This takes some time, and usually the first batch of water is sandy and silty – not optimum for a birthing scenario.) Miguel tells me we have to let go of the water birth possibility. I realize I have to let go of the big camera possibility. We agree. I load the smaller camera and get back to my contractions.

I want to change. It’s hot. I want to wear one of Miguel’s white button down shirts, the one from our engagement party. I want to be on all fours, on the floor in our bedroom with a pillow under my knees and my hands on the cold tiles. I need water. I think of my mother in labor with me, on her back in a hospital bed for 11 hours with no water. I can’t imagine how she did it. If someone tells me I can’t be on all fours, I’ll strangle them. I can’t believe how often these waves are coming. I also can’t believe how the pain goes away completely in between. I realize that this is the miracle of childbirth, that I get real bonafide BREAKS in between contractions. It’s not like other pain – which starts strong and persists.

I want Miguel to be next to me for every contraction. I call out to him. He comes right over, falls to his knees with me. He breathes with me. I love him. I nuzzle into his neck. I hug him. I can’t believe this is actually happening. He brings me mango and water. The mango is sour and not yet ripe, but it’s delicious.

Our midwives, Cristina and Lauren are here now, it’s 9:30 or so. I hug them. Their smiles are warm, welcoming and reassuring. They make me feel safe and strong. They have suitcases and set up lots of equipment. They check me, and realize I am 8 (!) centimeters dilated. They can’t believe it. They remind me, “This is what you wanted, Miranda! You’re getting your birth!” I’m excited, but the pains are so intense that I can’t really go beyond this wave that is happening right now. Miguel says, “you’re almost there” and I say, “don’t say that, don’t say that, don’t say that.” Maybe I don’t believe it.

I want to take a shower. The warm water feels good. It helps me relax. My legs stop shaking. I feel like I’m high, there’s so much adrenaline, serotonin and oxytocin rushing through me. Soon the hot water runs out and I get out of the shower shivering. When I grab my bathrobe, I discover the terrycloth belt which is part of the robe. This is perfect! I think to myself as I fling the belt over a hook in the bathroom, pull down and brace myself for the next wave.

I love this belt thing – I fling it over doorknobs, fall to my knees and pull down. At some point, I try the birthing chair but I don’t really like how it feels – it’s too big for me. I don’t want to sit. I go back to the bedroom. I’m on my knees and I drape my upper body over the foot of the bed. I clench the mattress edges and tighten my fists when the contractions come. I shouldn’t do this, I know – I’m resisting the waves, I have to let go and channel the rushes down. Lauren guides me, she tells me to put my head down so my neck touches my chin, and to let go of my upper body, release the tension, channel the pain down, down, down. When I let go, I can feel the difference – I can feel my body opening. I can feel him moving down.

The next two hours blur together. I’m my most instinctual ANIMAL self. I crawl around on the floor on all fours like a cat. I moan low, deep moans from my core. I hug Miguel for long moments. Film me, I tell him. I fall asleep completely in between contractions. I call out to my son, Come baby. I feel the Goddess, some other energy, there. I tell myself that 200,000 other women are doing this right now, and I can do it. I want to cry, because it hurts, but I can’t summon the tears, and here comes another wave. Motherfucker, I say. I can’t do this. ”Yes you can” says Miguel.

At some point, the midwives tell me that I should try to go pee, because an empty bladder will make more room for baby to move down. I go into the bathroom with Miguel. I’m standing above the toilet. I go through three intense contractions there. I feel how gravity is helping. Poor Miguel, I pull down really hard on his neck. At the end of the third contraction I feel a new pain. A different pain. The ring of fire. I’ve been told about this. It’s the burning sensation, the stretch when the baby begins to crown.

I walk out of the bathroom and tell the midwives about the new pain. I want to sit on the birthing chair now. I’m in the hallway. I’m about to give birth on the floor in the hallway. Cristina looks me in the eyes and tells me, “Your baby is coming now.” She takes a mirror and shows Miguel that the head is crowning. Both midwives ask me if I want to touch the head, but I say no. No. No. I don’t want to touch the head. I believe you.

I tell Miguel to set the camera up so that we can film this moment. He tells me that he wants to be present. I insist that he go and put the camera on a table in front of us. ”How’s the shot? Can you see me?” There I am, producing my birth, after all. The camera is rolling. Miguel comes back to me. I brace myself, my hand on his knee. He is right there by my side. I’m ready.

I push. Once. Twice. Three times. And our son joins us.

Birth Story- Fourth Baby, Home Birth

Another perfect birth story. They are all so different- This is a fourth baby, born at home with a wonderful support team. You can find this mother's blog here.

Enjoy!

In September of 2010 to our surprise we found out that we would be expecting

our 4th child. It was a bit of a shock but right away I started planning my

birth. I knew that I would be delivering our 4th child at home. Its something

that I really wanted! I began called midwives in our area and thankfully we live

in San Diego and have lots of options. I talked to a few midwives on the phone

but just didn’t click with them while talking. Finally after about a week of

looking around I got a return call from a midwife that I had called her name was

Brooke. I was so excited because we seemed to click great over the phone so we

set up our consult and decided to meet. I was about 5 ½ weeks pregnant when we

first met our midwife. I knew from the moment I met her that she would be more

like my friend than provider! Over the course of my pregnancy we got to know

each other really good and always had such great conversations when I went to my

appt.

On June 2nd, 2011 41 weeks along I woke up sometime after 1am having some

cramps and little contractions. I didn’t think much about it because I didn’t

think it would be labor starting. I was able to fall back asleep until around

2:40 and then I was woken up with some pretty intense contractions. I woke up

Chris and told him I was pretty sure I was going into labor!! We both headed

downstairs so I wouldn’t wake up the kids. The contractions were 5 min apart and

lasting 1 min, very strong too! I used my birth ball for awhile and that helped

with my pain. While sitting on my birth ball I called a few friends and set out

text letting everyone know I was in labor. Once the ball didn’t help anymore I

starting walking around and leaning on Chris for support when I would have

contractions and that really helped. At around 4:30 I told Chris to call the

midwives and photographer because I knew for sure now I was in labor and that I

was starting to hit transition because I was throwing up. He called them and

they got to my house around 5am. While waiting on them to show up Chris got the

tub filled so I could get some relief that way. Once they got here I went

upstairs with Sunshine and she wanted to check me to see where I was, to my

surprise I was 9cm already and my bag was like right there about to break( I

found out later I was actually 10 but since the baby was still high up she told

me 9 so I would think it would be soon). I went back downstairs and got into the tub.

Brooke hooked up my IV since I was gbs positive and I was able to get a

dose of the antibiotics. Korbin was still high up and needed to come down more.

At around 6:30 I started pushing to move him down and that’s when things got

very intense. My girls sat on the bottom of the stairs in awe of what was going

on,

my poor baby boy Thayden cried anytime I moaned or yelled out in pain. We

decided to take the birth upstairs because I couldn’t stand being in the pool anymore.

It was a great effort to climb the stairs and I ended up stopping half

way because I had to push! I finally got into my room and tried lying down in my

bed but that was very painful and uncomfortable, so I decided to stand by the

side of the bed for awhile and just push standing.

This made it easier to get

through the contractions and pushing. After awhile he came down more and I was

able to lay on my side in the bed and push on my side for awhile, it really

helped me because in between contractions I was able to rest very well and

regain some of my composure( I was losing it by this point lol).

I ended up

moving to my back and pushing which was very helpful and brought him down a lot.

My midwife Brooke then suggested that I squat down holding onto the bedpost and

push a few times in hopes that my water would break, it was hard to get out of

the bed but I somehow found the strength!! I squatted down and pushed once and

my water broke, right after my water broke I pushed a few times squatting but

the pressure was so intense I had to lie back down. Thankfully my friend Lyndsey

make it just in the nick of time) my water broke around 8:18 and we welcomed

Korbin David into this world at 8:32am!!! He was caught by his daddy and it was

definitely an amazing experience.

His head was delivered and I got a 5 minute

break until the next contraction, his head was out and my little baby was

starting to blink and just looking around at the big bright world. When my

contraction finally came I pushed once and the rest of his body slid right out

into his daddy hands. He was then placed on my chest and i was in love from the moment i saw

him!

We then waited for the cord to stop pulsing and Chris cut

it. Korbin turned OP(sunny side up) at the last minute and my midwives were

surprised by this lol. After I got my little 1 degree tear stitched I got

comfortable in my bed and started nursing Korbin right away.

He nursed for a

good 30-45 minutes and then my midwives took him to do the newborn exam. He got

great scores 10/10, they allowed Chris to weigh himand to our surprise he was

7lbs 6oz and 19 inches long, and head was 14 ½ inches. We had all thought he

would be in the 6lbs range but he sure tricked us. After they were done he was

given back to me and he nursed again and then we were tucked in by everyone and

I got some rest, which wasn’t east since I had like a burst of energy and wanted

to scream from the roof that I had my baby at home!!! My homebirth was an

awesome, amazing, empowering experience and I would do it all over again! I had

a great supportive husband which I couldn’t have done this without him! I also

had a great supportive team and my friend who came right into the room with

encouraging and positive words)

all pictures are copywrite to www.artisticimagephotography.smugmug.com

A Hospital VBAC--Faintly Violet: Fragments of a birth

Such amazing birth stories lately! I love this one. The way everything is mixed up is so much how labor happens in my mind. A little here, a little there, some forgotten, some vivid, all combining to make for a baby and a birth and a new family. Enjoy!

This is the birth story I wrote of my second daughter now 18month old. It's very long, and I'm a little nervous about sharing it with the wider world, but at the same time it was such a vividly beautiful experience. My first was a traumatic caesarean, a 27 weeker microprem, we didn't have much choice in her birth, so my second birth I was fiercely passionately driven for a VBAC. I went through our local birth centre (beautiful beautiful women who always greeted me with a smile) but because I was a VBAC we had to use the hospital delivery suite rooms.
My midwife was Natasha.
Alison is a dear friend who agreed to be my birth partner
Talia is the now almost 4 year old big sister (a little over 2 years corrected at the birth)
And Mark is my dear love.

I do apologise for the complete lack of continuity. Somehow I couldn't bind my birth story to a consecutive ordering of events, my first attempt at that just drained away the sense of beauty and wonder my heart was singing from the birth experience. I still marvel that I was at my most powerful and my most vulnerable at the same time.
So here it is.

Faintly Violet: Fragments of a birth

I've been working on the full story in parts, but there's so much of it. So here's a collection of whimsical fragments, tinged faintly violet, just like my laundry I'd managed to leave in the machine the night before her birth with a purple skirt so the dye ran. Somehow discovering my laundry had been dyed faintly Violet was so appropriate after her birth, it still makes me laugh
A very random order of moments.

I was coherent and 'with it' the entire birth. I was blissful and sedate and actively conscious, that conscious awareness and resonance with self and surrounds and company. There was a moment in the bath where I asked Alison to take a photo of me because I'd been hit by this wave of sudden joy, I was just incredibly happy all the way through; I was really giving birth, exactly how I wanted to, with the people I most wanted there with me, so vividly conscious and joyous. The photo isn't great, but I'm so glad that moment was captured, that bliss, so I'll never forget it.

It was so comfy kneeling on the couch leaning against the back of the couch, moaning through if the contraction ached, focusing inwards then coming back out to continue pottering around getting things ready for Talia's day.

I stayed in bed as long as I could through the morning. Contractions had been getting regular from around 2am, though I made a point of not watching the clock. They started getting more intense, yet still I put off calling Natasha, hoping to wait for a more reasonable hour. 5am, or maybe it was 5:30 an intense contraction hit and I knew there was no denying that this was labour and it was time to call Tash. Several rings and eventually she picked up, I started with apologising for waking her, funny the space you enter in labour.

Given the number of things we needed to mess around with before we could leave we arranged to meet at the hospital around 7-7:30 ish, she said she'd be there from 6:30 anyway. Cue calling Alison (birth partner), my mum (looking after Talia that night), Rosie (girl from work to take Tali in to care) and Wendy (my boss, to warn her that Tali would be in the extra day). Then the insanity of attempting to eat breakfast, pack Tali's bag for the day and night, get Tali's dress ready for photo day, sort out her breakfast for Rosie to help her with, interspersed with regular contractions I had to stop for... eventually we got out of the house.

We collected Alison from her house, and she came out with a beautiful stem with three pale pink roses on it, one barely a bud, one in its prime, and another just getting that touch too open and past its best. She'd been hunting around the garden for something to contribute and was just giving up hope when she spied that poetically evocative trio. After the birth we hung the flowers on a mobile in our room to help them dry. We forgot to take them home, but the midwives rescued them for us and took them to one of my follow up appointments. They're now on my labour altar where I light candles for mamas I love as they're giving birth .

As we walked into Delivery Suite one of their midwives said to Natasha in a joking voice "All babies out by 2, 'kay Tash?" I replied, "We'll give it a go. Do I get to use the bath?" Violet was born at 2:30pm, in the bath.

Mum brought Talia in to meet her new baby sister. We were all snuggled down on the bed, a lovely big double bed with a wooden frame, so earthy and home-like. Violet was next to me, maybe she was nursing, it's a little hazy now. I got to give Talia a big cuddle and introduce her to baby Violet, that baby Pip came out of mummy's tummy and here she is as baby Violet. Talia was in utter wonderment, gazing at our new baby speaking barely above a whisper saying "Tiiiiny. Baby tiiiiny. Baby Bi-let tiiiiny." I asked Tali if she'd like some mum milk, and it was so nice to snuggle my big girl against my breast in that beautiful space of love.

After coming back from the toilet Alison suggested we try a different position or place as I'd been on the bed all morning (not flat on my back, curled up comfy and relaxed, the back of the bed quite upright so I was more lounging than anything else. Besides, the bed was dodgy and the end section at my feet would slide away if I pushed on it much at all with my feet). There was something luxurious in how I was indulging in my birth, I had this beautiful satin dressing gown that came to mid-thigh on. I didn't need anything else and that was easy access whilst being a long way from anything resembling a hospital gown.

There's something delicious about lounging back in a satin slip, eating grapes in this beautiful peaceful loving heartspace surrounded by two of my favourite people in the world. So I got onto the birthing mat set up next to a lounge chair, on my knees, leaning against the arm of the chair. Mark sat in the chair cooing to me and letting me grip his arm if I needed it whilst Alison set up behind me to give me a lovely gentle back massage, ylang ylang scented oil and her beautiful soft hands caressing my back.

When we'd been in the room about an hour getting some of our stuff sorted out, I wasn't quite convinced that we were having this baby today. I asked Natasha if she was going to check me and she was happy to. 2 days before I'd been completely closed and not effaced at all. Funny how you can convince yourself that you're probably not properly in labour and these regular contractions could well continue for the next three days. So she checked me and said "Well you're 3cm and fully effaced" I was completely caught by surprise and said, "You WHAT?!?!" That convinced me I was actually in labour.

There was this beautiful focused peaceful time whilst in the bath, I was on all fours in this huge bath, facing the corner so Natasha could actually keep track of where we were at. I could hear the others in the room (only Mark in the bath with me, Natasha, Alison, and another midwife to act as a secondary witness for Natasha to confirm that yes, there was no way they were getting continuous monitoring on me at that stage, but the hb was fine right through so this wasn't an unprofessional decision, though I didn't find that part out until a few days later), but my world became this one corner of white ceramic bath, the tiles, DH's arm and a towel. And the water. The clear gentle warm water. Facing the water as I was small details became so clear; a blob of green blue goo from the doppler (Natasha managed to accidentally dunk the first doppler, she wasn't used to a bath that big, the one in the birth centre is smaller), a small string of blood, my necklace hanging down, the occasional fleck of poo (really didn't bother me, I fully trusted the people I was with, it wasn't an issue for me or them).

But what really intensely rang true for me were the ripples in the surface of the water as I breathed. Sometimes they were deep runnels, others just light fluttery rhythmical patterns. Those ripples in the water were a phenomenal focus of my energy, a point to concentrate on for my breath. Many women who have gas in their birth, even on a minimal setting, think it's doing nothing until after they've pushed it away. Personally I think the gas on that minimal setting must work partially as a placebo, but more than that it becomes a point of focus for breath. By watching those ripples in the water I was focusing my breath energy, little breaths so I wouldn't push too hard too fast, deeper breaths when it was getting tiring, holding my breath to contain and use that energy within (I couldn't push whilst exhaling, it let too much of the energy out when I needed to hold it).

I was on the bed in the room, lying on my side, grapes on the table, caressing the birth sculpture Mark had carved. I loved the smell of it, the feel of soft, perfectly sanded wood rubbing gently against my nose and mouth. I'd grip DH's arm through contractions, and sometimes he'd grip mine back which agitated me slightly because I was bruisy from the failed canula/IV line, but pushing him away would have felt like kicking a puppy, he was doing his best to help, and having him there and knowing I could grip his arm as tightly as I needed to was comforting. At one point I needed to hold his arm to my mouth, to just barely press my teeth against his skin because of the depth of the pain. He knew I just needed that touch, that I wasn't actually going to bite him, and even if I had he would have been fine with it. He gave the insight later that he knew I needed that oral stimulation to centre myself, it wasn't about biting, it was about comfort.

I struggled with pushing for a while, I just couldn't get it right, couldn't channel the energy right, I was starting to get frustrated but just when I needed it Natasha told me I was doing really well. Then somehow I stumbled across the energy channel of my spine. My breath needed to take the right path to work, to help me, and I needed to channel the energies the right way to push effectively. And I found that the energy only flowed right when it was channeling straight down my spine, starting in my head, down my neck and down my spine to my baby, any kink in that line and the energy would disperse too greatly and be wasted. Once I discovered that channel it all just clicked into place.

I was starting to get frustrated with pushing, that it was taking so long and felt like I wasn't moving our baby along enough. I could tell our Pip was getting lower because Natasha was finding the heartbeat lower and lower, til she was having to place the doppler barely above my pelvic bone. Our Pip started getting close to crowning, I'd push and feel them move down, then slide back. Just as I was getting frustrated Natasha again saved me with wisdom and advice, that the baby's head needed to move up and down in the birth canal to help stretch my perenium to help prevent tearing. It was good, it was normal.

I found myself entering a child-like space. I had no idea of what I was doing, I needed gentle but firm guidance. Natasha's voice was just so right. If I'd been a regular delivery suite patient I would have been getting scared at this point, but I was safe with my midwife.

At one point whilst in our delivery suite room (I was so thankful that it wasn't a room I'd bled in with Talia) I was struck by a remembered line from a book I'd read, where one woman's birth mantra had been "I'm a lean, mean, birthing machine." I mentally applied the mantra to myself and laughed inside, because I so was.

After labouring (not that it was a labour really, being massaged, loved and caressed) a while on the birth mat Natasha offered to check me again. It must've been about midday. So I got up on the bed again, she checked and I was a stretchy 5, up to a 6. It wasn't as much progress as she would have liked, but that was most likely due to the dehydration. She said we'll check again in a bit and if we haven't made more progress she might break my waters. So I asked if I could get in the shower, she agreed. I wanted to send an sms update out but got hit by a contraction so the thought was lost.

I decided to go to the toilet before getting in the shower, and whilst I was sitting there I felt this pop and gush as my waters broke. Terribly neat ;) It was at most 15 minutes after Tash had said she might break them if we didn't progress. Cheeky Pip.

It started getting a little frazzly at that point. The chair they had in the shower wasn't great so I was perched on it, Tash was struggling to get the ctg trace in the right spot, to the point where I was this close to swatting her hand away. And the shower wasn't enough, I couldn't get the water on my lower back and under my belly at the same time. Add in that I could see Mark and Alison were getting splashed (neither had brought spare clothes) and it just wasn't working right. It was going to take them at least 10-15 minutes to get the bath ready. The contractions were coming hard. I was slipping into a child-like space of needing to ask Natasha's permission to get in the bath. I can see why women are so easily bullied into monitoring, drugs and intervention at this point. Maybe that was transition.

I remember Natasha checking the O2 set up in the room to be sure it worked as we were getting close to baby time. Hearing the hiss of the gas made me think it was the pain relief variety and in my head I thought, "Ooooh don't tempt me" but I knew I didn't mean it.

Early on in the birth I asked Alison to brush my hair as I hadn't had the opportunity to that morning. There's something so loving about having someone you care about and trust brushing your hair.

I spoke to our Pip between contractions, asking my baby so gently to work with me, telling them they were doing so well and we love them so much. I loved the warmth of those murmurings, there was no anger. How could I blame my baby for the pain I was in? I was so thankful that they were there with me, giving me the birth I wanted. I loved them so much, and they had no concept of right or wrong, of choice. Who could curse such innocence? So I told my Pip just how much I loved them, that we were working together to get through this.

I touched her head, a little before she was crowning. I think I did. I tried to. I know I felt soft folds of skin within me, and then I was hit by another contraction and there wasn't another chance.
Feeling her crowning, the 'ring of fire'. It wasn't a ring of fire for me, it was a gradual pain that shifted location. I mean, it stung like crazy, but I could feel it move from my perenium up, slowly and controlled as I pushed. I was so tired and wanted to hurry up and finish this thing, so I pushed through that contraction to get the 'ring of fire' done with. Feeling that stinging moving up from my perenium, up the sides, to the top of my opening, and that was the most painful bit done with. Not so scary, not debilitating, painful, but a good pain. I heard Alison gasp a soft "oh!" of wonderment as she saw our Pip's head, that gave me such strength. The next step was hard, pushing her through enough to crest her brow. It still leaves me breathless, the thought of the strength it took to get to that step, feeling her sliding back. Pushing so hard with the next go to get that little bit further. Then I felt the lip of my perenium slip over the brow and I gasped, I'd done it. The next push should be the head. So I took a moment to breathe, steeled my will and pushed again...

And suddenly our baby was born. There was no pause with the head out before pushing the shoulders and body through, just the whole rest of our baby in a series of determined pushes. I was slightly agitated afterwards that noone had told me that the head was out, but the truth was there just wasn't a moment where it was just the head, the whole of her rocketted out. There was some slight confusion as we wrangled me rolling over to sit in the bath whilst Mark tried to manoeuvre our baby up to my chest with the cord going the wrong way, but within moments our baby was on my chest and I was almost crying with joy and pride and wonderment that I'd actually done it. It was a good few minutes before we remembered to check the sex, though I got a faint glimpse as she was being lifted up to me. She'd cried as she was lifted out of the water, but stopped within moments of being snuggled against my skin.

Holding our baby in the bath, Mark right up against me, flooded with elation, a soaked towel wrapped around our baby to protect her from any chill. There really aren't words for that moment, the sense of whole-ness. Looking at her face I knew she was more a Violet Joy than a Kaylee (our second choice name), and it was just Right.

I got a slight tear, at most 1cm long, a little above my perenium, just to one side. It could have healed on its own but there would always be a small loose flap of skin, so I got stitched up once we were back in delivery suite. Natasha thinks the tear was more from Violet's shoulder as she came out so fast, rather than the actual crowning.

They prepared a soft spot for me to sit to birth the placenta, and never once was Violet taken from my arms. I remember musing in that happy haze that maybe we should bury the placenta around mid-summer in Alison's beautiful garden (I don't have a garden I could place a treasure like that). Natasha told me to forget about midsummer and focus on the now with birthing this placenta. It was a good 15-20 minutes before the cord stopped pulsing. I attempted to offer Violet a feed, she wasn't interested just yet. I got the synctocinin (sp?) to help with the placenta, but it still took a good while to separate. Having Natasha tugging on the cord felt strange. It may have been half an hour or more before the placenta released and I was able to push it out. So easy and soft after birthing a baby :D Violet suckled a little, sort of, no rush, it'll happen when she's ready.

After a bit of a rest they helped me to my feet and I slowly shuffled back to our room. She latched on, no pain, suckling beautifully. Photos. Mark getting to cuddle Violet against his chest whilst I was being stitched up, Alison holding my hand. Alison getting a cuddle with our Violet. Doing Violet's measurements. 3.35kg of baby. Just perfect. A perfect birth, a perfect baby. And eventually me getting into a wheelchair to be wheeled down to the birth centre to recover in peace. We were up most of the night talking through the wonder of the experience, Violet snuggled exhausted between us. There was a beautiful cradle in the room, wooden frame that would rock gently, but I couldn't bear the thought of her sleeping alone after being held so close and snug for so long, her first night in the world just couldn't be spent alone. We'd forgotten to bring a muslin wrap with us, so we wrapped her in a violet sarong I'd brought as easy clothes to throw on if I'd needed to pace the halls. My bundle of perfect baby, wrapped in faintly violet cloth, a purely accidental completely unplanned happenstance.

And I adored the softness of my post-birth belly. Soft and velvety, just like her skin, perfect for resting a perfect little baby on. I was so sad to see it fade and retract, halved by 3 days, virtually gone within 8 days.

Throughout my labour and birth I was caressed, supported and comforted by the image of one candle, one candle that became the symbol of all the candles flickering for me. Corrie had described her candle as being lit on a cold, rainy morning in England. Somehow that single phrase evoked a beautiful image of a drizzly grey soft misty morning across a moor, a big old tree , the colours faded in the drizzly light, with the warmth of a vibrant strong candle flame, somehow embodying the light of dozens of candle flames burning for me.

There's so much more I could say, so many moments. Those are the richest. Oh such wonder!
It was a few hours after Violet's birth that I realised I'd managed it drug free.
Within an hour of giving birth to Violet I was up in the delivery suite room and I thought "I could so do that again, not right now, but I could definitely do that again." So maybe we will have three children. If not, then I'm sincerely tempted to offer myself as a surrogate mother, giving the gift of helping others become parents, whilst indulging in my own desire to give birth again. If I don't stop now you'll be reading all night.

Though one addition I have to add, is an insight from Mark, the concept of three births. The first is the mother birthing the baby, bringing the baby out of her body. The second is the father's birth, cutting the cord, separating the baby from the mother. And the third is the baby's birth, in finally parting with the last of that cord as it falls off a few days later, completely an independent being.

Part Two- The NICU and Going Home

Yesterday we featured an amazing birth story from a mom who had a great birth center birth and found that her sweet baby had down syndrome. It ended with them transfering to the hospital to see if the babe was healthy and able to go home.
Today's post is part two of their journey, their stay in the NICU and heading home. I love how this mama is strong and advocates for her baby at a difficult time and does everything she can to give her baby what she needs most. What a blessed baby to have a family like this. You can follow their journey on their personal blog, here and see more pictures of this beautiful baby as she has grown. Enjoy!
~

Survival Stories From the NICU

Kennedy's First Day in the NICU

Hopefully this entry doesn't come across completely scatter brained. Although it felt like eternity that we were there, seven weeks later, it's very much a blur.

I have to admit, I had no idea what to expect going into the NICU. All I knew is that in reality, we should have been going home from the birth center, with our sweet baby girl. I wanted more than anything to be in my bed, snuggled up with her. Instead, I arrived at the NICU to find her under warming lamps with tubes and wires. Despite the Down Syndrome, everything else was going well. I hoped we would be discharged in a day or so, and could move forward with life as we would soon get to know it.

Upon arrival to the NICU I was soon faced with a "Lactation Consultant." I put that in quotes, because I can't believe anyone who would say the things she said, would actually call themselves a Lactation Consultant. She said things like, "Babies with Down Syndrome can't breastfeed," "You'll have to give her a pacifier," and "You'll need to supplement with formula." I looked at Andrea and Angie with confusion and amazement. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Luckily they spoke up, and defended the fact that Kennedy was already breastfeeding! I was still in shock, and numb. I hadn't yet realized that I would soon have to stand up for my daughter and fight our battles. This was only the beginning of the breastfeeding versus formula battle. Little did I know at that moment, just how hard things would become. About the only thing I can thank the "Lactation Consultant" for, was assuring that Marlon and I were able to stay in a "courtesy room."

Kennedy had an echo performed on our first day there, and the Pediatric Cardiologist came over to talk to Marlon and I. I was sure that he was going to tell us that everything was fine. After all, her EKG had been normal and no one heard anything abnormal when listening to her heart. I could not have been more wrong in my assumption. The doctor explained that there were a few things going on with Kennedy's heart. She had an AV Canal Defect and a narrowing of the aortic arch. He explained that there was also a valve they would be watching to see if it closed. Then the words "open heart surgery" came out of his mouth. I can honestly say, I pretty much lost it at that point. My sweet baby girl, just hours old, was going to need open heart surgery in a few months. This was like a nightmare. I kept thinking I had to be dreaming because this couldn't be happening. The news of her diagnosis of Down Syndrome was trivial compared to the heart defect that would require open heart surgery. To make matters worse, my dreams of a quick exit from the NICU were deflated when he told me that we would be there for three to seven days.

Kennedy getting lots of snuggles from mommy and daddy.

Little did I know, I was in for what turned out to be the longest five days of my life (to date.) Some of the nurses in the NICU were wonderful, and for them I am grateful. However, there were just as many who I often termed "Nurse Ratched." I quickly found that each shift change brought about a huge level of fear and anxiety over who the next nurse would be, and what struggles we would encounter. Kennedy was nursing great, and I was pumping around the clock in hopes that I could build my milk supply. The night after she was born, her IV was already removed and her oxygen had been decreased. She was doing really well. By the next day, concerns over her weight began. She had lost a few ounces, just as any new baby does. But we were being held to "NICU Standards" and that wasn't acceptable. Our nurse started pushing me to supplement. I refused. I was still pumping around the clock, every 2 hours. I was nursing Kennedy and giving her bottles of what I was pumping. We had an awesome night nurse, her oxygen would soon be removed and I felt like we were really making progress. I left the NICU, headed to my room to shower and get breakfast. I felt confident that we were on our way to going home. I even sent out text messages saying how great things were going.

Kennedy, snug as a bug in her NICU bassinet.

Boy was I shocked to go back to the NICU a short 1.5 hours later to be told that the Neonatologist wanted to put a feeding tube in!!!!! This is just one example of the inconsistencies that occurred from one nurse/shift to the next. Not only were some of their nursing practices inconsistent, so was their documentation and verbal communication. I was asked by several nurses about my "breech birth" and the neonatologist was apparently under the impression that I had no prenatal care. This particular nurse who happened to mention they wanted to put a feeding tube in, was told that the Cardiologist discussed it with me the day prior and I "went running from the room crying." I had barely spoken with the Cardiologist the day prior. Did I happen to mention we had not even seen a neonatologist since the day we arrived? That was Saturday, and it was now Tuesday. Marlon and I began another argument. My husband really stepped up to deal with the "medical" side of it at times. I was emotionally a wreck and just couldn't handle it - reasonably.) I am so thankful for Angie and Andrea who were always available to provide support, encouragement, and information. Just as I refused to supplement with formula, I refused the feeding tube. My compromise was that I would pump, and give her bottles. She needed to eat 2 ounces every 4 hours. I knew this would be a challenge. She was a sleepy baby. But I was determined that I wasn't going to give in to a feeding tube with out a fight. Well, my strong little fighter did it! We proved them wrong, and even the neonatologist had to admit that he was wrong, and a feeding tube wasn't needed. Kennedy gained back 2 ounces that day! There was an end in sight!

Andrea visiting Kennedy * 2/22/11

After standing my ground, and Kennedy and I proving them right....and a meeting between my husband, myself and a hospital administrator, I think everyone started to realize that I meant business. People who had "looked down on me" for not having a traditional birth were suddenly interested in hearing my story.

After five days in the NICU, a terrifying diagnosis of a cardiac defect, and confirmation of the Down Syndrome, we were finally able to bring our sweet baby girl home. She was weighing in at 7lbs. 4oz. Just 2oz. less than her birth weight.

Those five days were an eye opening and emotional experience. I was still dealing with the shock and reality of Kennedy's diagnosis, and I quickly realized something I knew all along. You can't just go with what the medical staff says, because while they did go to school, no one knows your child better than you. Our NICU stay also showed me how supportive our families are, and how much we would soon be depending on them. Sadly, the experience also taught me who my real friends were (more on this later). I am grateful to our friends and family who were with us, supporting us emotionally and physically. I'm thankful for all of our family and friends (and even strangers) who provided us with their love, support and prayers. I am especially grateful to Andrea, Angie and Bea who went above and beyond to provide such a high level of physical and emotional support through visits, phone calls and text messages. Marlon and I truly could not have gotten through those five days with out everyone's support.

Kennedy getting strapped in for her ride home! 2/24/11

Birth Story- Natural Birth Center Birth After Two Hospital Births

I love this birth story! It is great to see women have a triumphant unmedicated birth after two medicated births and the joy and satisfaction it brings them. And a big baby to boot!

Enjoy!

At 3:00am, on March 16th, a strong contraction pulled me out of sleep. I lay in the dark, tried to go back to sleep, when another hit. I decided to get up. I got a drink of water, and took some of my labor prep herbs. The contractions were very, very strong, and very close together.

After an hour, I woke up my husband, and got in the shower. At 5am, we called our midwife (at this point my contractions had been 3-5 minutes apart for 2 hours.) As soon as I get off the phone, my contractions stopped dead. I was so frustrated, but felt very tired, so I went back to sleep.

At around 6, the contractions started again, but I managed to sleep between them for the next hour.

At 7, I got up and told my 6 year old son that he was right, his sister was coming today! (The night before, he told me she'd come tomorrow.) I got breakfast for him and his 2 year old sister.

At 8, I made myself and my husband some scrambled eggs and toast, and we called my parents to tell them to head over soon.

When they got here, we loaded up the car, called the birth center to let them know we'd be dropping in to get my 1st round of antibiotics (GBS+), and then I'd head over to my chiropractor's office to get one last adjustment.

We got to the birth center, and my midwife checked me. A stretchy 8 cm! I was in shock, I thought, at best, I'd be at 3 cm. We ran over to the chiropractor's, and she put me on the roller table. I had a contraction, and I'm trapped on my back, and it was the WORST contraction I had the entire labor. No wonder I always got the epidural before, trapped on a hospital bed!

We got back to the birth center, and we filled up the birth tub. I got in, and after two contractions, I decided a water birth was NOT going to happen. I could handle my contractions MUCH better standing and swaying than in the tub.

Things really began to pick up, and I found myself vocalizing to get through each contraction. I didn't want to be touched while having a contraction, because it pulled me away from wherever I was inside myself. My husband was great. He stood by my side and talked to me between contractions, which was exactly what I needed from him.

I decided I wanted to be outside, because the weather was beautiful. I stood, braced against a palm tree, moaning lowly through a few contractions, then stood against the wall of the birth center. The sunshine and gentle breeze felt wonderful. I noticed I was getting louder with my vocalizations, and wanted to be inside, away from any curious passers-by.

I had my blood pressure checked, and we listened to the baby's heart rate on the doppler. Everything was good. I was feeling a little nauseous with each contraction, and knew it wouldn't be much longer. It was time to get into a birthing position. I chose to climb on the bed, on my knees, leaning over a birth ball. But the ball wasn't allowing me the freedom of movement I needed then, so we replaced the ball with a stack of pillows.

My husband crouched near-by, and my doula whispered encouragement and reminders to keep my vocalizations low to help move the baby down.

Suddenly, as I moaned through a contraction, I felt my body begin to push. "I'm pushing!" I gasped. It took me a few contractions, but I finally realized how to work with that urge to push, and pushing felt GOOD. To not be pushing was pain, so I was pushing and pushing as long and as hard as I could. Between contractions, I was shaking my head, not to say "no," but to clear my head and get ready for the next wave.

Finally, I felt the burn, and I knew I her head was beginning to come out. My amniotic sack was still intact, and they could see meconium staining in the fluid. I pushed through the burning, and her head was OUT! I reached down and touched my daughter's head, and I could feel all her hair! My midwife opened the sack and tried to suction the baby a little (I think, there was a lot going on), but the baby was having none of it. My big fat baby's shoulders did not want to come out, and my midwife had to help. And then, pop! She was out!

My midwife turned her around and slide her between my legs. I grabbed my new little daughter and picked her up. I'd done it! After two hospital births with epidurals, I had a natural birth with my BIGGEST baby by far. 9 lbs, 14 oz! (My son was 8lbs, 8 oz, and my first daughter was 7 lbs, 5 oz.) I felt amazing!

My chiropractor came by, and adjusted my brand-new baby right there on the birthing bed, a few feet away from me.

And as an added bonus, our childbirth class teacher was setting up for a class and just happened to be there, too. She got to see that I passed the final. :)

Unfortunately, my baby's big shoulders did some damage on the way out (due to scar tissue I had from an episiotomy I'd had with my first), and I ended up with a 4th degree tear. I needed to transfer to the hospital to be surgically repaired.

Luckily, my midwife was able to get me a direct admit, and a short ambulance ride later (with my husband and new baby daughter following behind in the car), I arrived at the hospital. (We actually waited a few hours after the birth to call the ambulance, it wasn't an emergency ride, no flashing lights or speeding.)

I got patched up, and then we were on our way home. We got home at 12:30am, exactly 12 hours after first arriving at the birth center!

Out of all of my births, this was the best (although I always loved the outcome, anyway.) I'm so proud of myself! I still can't believe I did it!

My blog : http://diaryofalowmilksupplymama.blogspot.com/

Birth Story!- Fast Hospital Birth

I especially love sharing birth stories from my students! This is a fantastic one. I love how this mom is vocal about her needs and standing up for herself in the hospital. It is also a great example of a couple that finds a compromise that works for them when one wants a hospital birth and the other wants a home birth. Enjoy!

Before I got pregnant, I knew I wanted a home birth. I'd been reading some crunchy parenting blogs and had no doubt what would be best for my baby and me. However, when I got pregnant and started talking to my husband about a possible home birth, he expressed concerns, particularly in regards to my health.

While I ended up being the perfect candidate for a home birth (not only health-wise, but the whole labor was very uneventful), I didn't want to disregard my husband's concerns, nor did I want our first parenting decision to be me ignoring what he was concerned about. I offered a compromise: I would hire a midwife to follow us throughout the pregnancy, and when I went into labor, I'd labor at home as long as possible, and then we would all go to the hospital at the last possible minute (which we ended up agreeing would be around 8 centimeters dilated, but would also depend on how fast I was progressing) and the midwife would be at the hospital with us as a doula. I'm so happy that we were able to come to this agreement, because everything worked out better than I could have hoped.
~

I woke up around 5:15am on Tuesday morning with some cramping. Initially I thought it was menstrual-like cramping, but then it stopped, which was more like a contraction and nothing that I'd had up until that point. I laid in bed trying to go back to sleep when I had another contraction, this time with a definite start and stop. It happened again, probably about 10 minutes later. I decided to get up to go to the bathroom, and felt a gush. I made it to the bathroom before any of my water fell to the floor, but I was pretty sure my water just broke. I called my midwife to tell her what happened, and she encouraged me to try to go back to sleep. I'd already tried to go back to sleep, so I turned on my computer to do a little work.

My husband had an appointment in Sacramento (about 2 hours away) that day, and I encouraged him to go, because when does a first labor happen so quickly that he'd need to be back by noon? I sent him to the store first, though, to get me some diapers, because now I was sure that the gush of water wasn't me losing control of my bladder but was definitely my water breaking. My husband decided to stay in town and not go to Sacramento, because he said he had more important things to do in the office if the baby was going to be born soon.

I was able to send out a few emails to my business partner and clients to let them know what was going on, but that was it. Contractions were generally 30 seconds long and 5 minutes apart -- much closer than I thought they'd be after just a couple of hours of labor. It made it impossible to do anything but wait for each contraction to pass.

I wasn't sure when to call my MIL because I didn't want people pestering me about how labor was going. But things seemed to be progressing pretty fast, so I called her around 7:30 or 8:00am.

By 10:00am, I'd called my midwife 3 times. Once to confirm my water had broken, a second time to ask her if labor progressing this fast was normal (by that time I think contractions were about 2 minutes apart and lasting around 45 seconds), and a third time to tell her that I needed her to come ASAP. I didn't know it at the time, but another client of hers had her water break at 5:30am that morning as well, so my midwife had to guess who would deliver first. She guessed I would, and boy, was she right!

My husband had returned home around 9:30 and started busying himself around the house. The midwife showed up around 11:00am and she and my husband started working on the birthing pool. I wanted a birthing pool even though we were planning on transporting to the hospital around 8 centimeters. When my midwife first arrived and checked my cervix, she said I was 4-5 centimeters dilated. I was disappointed that I wasn't farther along, because the pain was getting intense.

The midwife asked how I wanted the labor to progress, whether I wanted it to go faster or slow down. I wanted it over with, so I told her I wanted it to speed up. She had me lie on my left side with my hips angled towards the bed. Sure enough, the contractions got stronger.

It was around 12:30pm that the birthing pool was ready, and I got right in. After one contraction, my midwife wanted to check my cervix again, and said I was 7-8 centimeters and we needed to GO NOW. I waited through one more contraction, practically jumped out of the pool, and we hauled off to the hospital. The drive wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I only had to deal with three contractions in the car.

We arrived at the hospital around 1:00pm and I walked right in to Labor & Delivery. I think they were shocked that I came in so far progressed! At this point, anything anyone wanted me to do made me angry. They wanted a pee sample, and the first thing out of my mouth to the hospital midwife was "F*ck you." They wanted me on the bed, but it was so painful to move, and even more painful to lay down, that I didn't get on the bed until I was getting the urge to push. I did, however, let them check my progress when I first got to the hospital, and they let me know I was at 8 centimeters. I got off the bed and stood while the contractions continued.

When I got on the bed after having a few uncontrollable urges to bear down, the hospital midwife checked me and I was 9.5 centimeters dilated. One contraction later I was fully dilated and I started pushing. I pushed for about 15 minutes, and my 9.1 pound, 20 inch long baby boy was delivered! From start to finish, I was in labor for 9 hours. It was such a surreal experience, because nothing that I read and nothing in our class prepared me for the possibility that a first time mom would have such a fast labor (though I know it's impossible to prepare moms for every eventuality...I just didn't think labor would happen that fast the first time!).

I ended up having a third degree tear. If I'd been in the hospital any sooner than 8 centimeters, I'm sure I would have taken the pain medicine. Maybe not, since I had my midwives/doulas there with me, but a few times at home I said to one of the midwives who'd come to assist my midwife, "I don't think I can do this." I'm sure that I was able to do the natural birth because of the team I had around me.

I thought I'd be more interested in my baby when they laid him on my tummy, but I was kind of in another world at that point. One of my midwives told me a few times to talk to my baby, but I didn't know what to say. I was surprised I didn't feel that rush from natural birth that people talk about, and I didn't feel a particular rush of love for this baby laying on my chest. The love has come a little slower than I thought it would, but has manifested itself at times that surprised me. For example, hearing my baby cry after they took him to weigh him, and watching my husband hold our newborn. It's possible that the rush of love didn't happen the second he was laid on my chest because I was so exhausted from the whole process. Now, three days after the birth, I'm completely enamored with him and love cuddling him.

My birth went pretty much exactly as I hoped and planned, though it went faster than I ever thought possible!

Birth Story- A Spiritual, Healing Birth

I love this birth story- postdates! healing! home birth! faith! It is absolutely beautiful and a testament to the female body and how wonderful birth can be-
Enjoy!

We had the most amazing Christmas Eve. Daisy Anabelle Suzanne was born at 10:54pm after weeks of early labor and about 5 hours of active labor.

I'm going to give you ALL the info on her birth, so if you DON'T want to know about things like bloody show, then this is not the post for you! :)

On Thursday (the day before Christmas Eve) I went to an acupuncturist to try to stimulate active labor. It was my first experience with acupuncture and I was a little surprised by how it felt. The needles themselves didn't hurt, but once she worked them for a few seconds it felt like an electrical shock in my hands, back, legs and feet. During the treatment I felt really hot and sweaty, which she said was my body releasing heat and it was a GOOD thing.

That night I woke up probably every hour or so with contractions that were hard enough to wake me up, but easy enough that I could go back to sleep when they were over. At 2am I woke up feeling deeply hot and overheated. It was more than just physical heat - it felt like the same internal, energetic heat I had felt during my acupuncture treatment. I turned on the fan and eventually fell back to sleep.

I woke up Christmas Eve realizing that my contractions had changed. Although they were 20-45 minutes apart they had turned the corner and were HARD labor contractions. I had been losing my mucous plug for over a week, but that morning I had bloody show. At this point I KNEW things were progressing and Daisy would be here by Christmas. I tried to rest as much as possible, but spent some time on the ball and walking around the house and the neighborhood.

We had planned to go to my Mother in Law's house for a family Christmas dinner at 3pm, but by the time it was time to leave I realized that I was IN labor and, although it would probably still be a long time till Daisy was born, I couldn't just get in the car and go to a party. So, we stayed home and timed my contractions. They were still 10-30 minutes apart and Joe called Mary (our Midwife) to let her know where we were at.

At about 5:30pm Mary decided that she was going to just come check me. She got here about 6pm and I was at 8cm! My contractions were still far apart and irregular - I was seriously shocked that I had progressed so much. At that point everything changed. I got shaky and a little scared and my contractions started coming at about every 5 minutes. I got in the pool that we had set up in our room and Mary gave me some herbs to help me calm down.

My dad and brothers kept the kids occupied on the other side of the house. They watched movies, had dinner and played while waiting for their sister to be born. At some point I was overwhelmed with loneliness and asked to see Aravis. She came in and checked everything out, kissed me and asked questions and that really helped. It was healing to be able to see her during the birth - to know that she was safe and happy. Judah came in after that and he was a little stand-offish, but really wanted to play with the water in the tub.

For most of the birth Mary and my mom stayed in the hallway while Joe sat with me in the bedroom. It was so, so redemptive to know that Joe was HERE - both physically and spiritually. He was attentive, aware and present. I didn't want him to touch me, but I was able to rest in the knowledge that he was HERE.

Not long after that my contractions started to feel overwhelming. I started to feel like it was never going to end and it was too much for me. I remember thinking that every woman who talks about a "pain free" childbirth was full of shit. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't PAIN I was feeling, but PRESSURE. That helped for about 3 contractions and then I couldn't make the words mean more than the sensation anymore. So, I cried, I prayed, I begged for it to end.

Here's where things were REALLY different between a home birth and a hospital birth - Mary had told me early on in my care that there was no need for me to push Daisy out. She said that my body would do that for me and I would know when it was time to join in. She wasn't lying.

My contractions changed again. They started coming 3 at a time - right on top of each other - and felt like nothing I had ever experienced ever before. They were WILD. It was the most physical pain I have ever felt. Ever. They were hard and consuming and I felt certain that Daisy was never going to come out. I was begging to God to make it stop - to just give me relief. Mary told me to tell them when I felt her and I thought she was insane - I was nowhere near getting her out.

And then I felt my water break... and the ring of fire. Daisy's head was right there, crowing, the moment the water broke. I, somehow, told Mary I could feel her and immediately Mary felt for her head. She applied counter pressure and told me to push when I was ready. This was not what you see in the movies, or maybe even what you have experienced yourself. I didn't breathe and push. I didn't wait for the next urge. There was no need to try to move her down - she was THERE. I pushed probably 3-4 times to get her head out, while yelling and screaming, and then another 3 pushes to deliver her body. And then there she was.

I sat back in the water and held my daughter. For the very first time I felt joy the INSTANT I held my baby. There was nothing else in the way. No lights, no doctors, no interventions. Just me and the baby I had worked for, prayed over and truly BIRTHED. I heard Aravis say, "Judah, it's DAISY!" and realized that they were in the room. I looked up at Aravis' ecstatic face and was SO happy that she had seen her sister being born.

When I was ready I moved up onto the bed and waited for the placenta. This was another totally new experience. I had never pushed out a placenta without pitocen and it was ... different. :) Mary checked me and I had barely torn - not even enough for a single stitch. She said I had eased Daisy's head out so carefully that everything looked perfect.

Daisy was born just over an hour before Christmas Day. She was 7 pounds and 10 ounces, 20 inches long and perfectly pink. The best part is - she looks like me. She definitely has her daddy in her (no Moors kid can escape the Moors head), but Daisy looks like every newborn/baby photo of me I have ever seen. This was a small gift from Jesus for me.. :)

Those are all of the facts, but I want to say that so much more happened during Daisy's birth. I had experienced so much sadness in my previous births and had even experienced opposition from other people before Daisy's birth. I KNEW what God was doing in me by providing a home birth. I KNEW what God was doing in giving me an opportunity to cry out to the Healer and Redeemer. I knew that my expectation of what was coming would not be disappointed. I knew that I was on holy ground as I approached Daisy's birth. But there was certainly doubt that needed to be wrestled with. There were words of discouragement disguised as practical (even Divine) wisdom.

I am so, so thankful for the Spirit of God that surrounded and sustained me. I am so thankful that I did not give in. I am so thankful that my hope was rewarded with reality. Daisy was born naturally and at home. And I was healed. Things that had rattled around - undealt with - have been set right. I experienced so much more physical pain than I was prepared for, but not even a moment of emotional pain. In suffering and struggling I found peace. I met with Jesus in the deepest, saddest place I could. There is no healing like the healing that takes place when you face your deepest wound.

I have spent the last few days soaking in the joy of God's gift to me this Christmas. Daisy Belle is finally here. Her birth was beautiful and excruciating. Healing is settling into old, raw spaces. And I am recovering with my family - enjoying every second of our new life.

Happy Birthday Daisy Belle!

A Little Soul- Home Birth, First Baby

Welcome to another Birth Story Wednesday!

Today we have a wonderful home birth. I love how it shows that everybody experiences birth differently. Mostly I love the end though, such a true statement about the wonder of birth, babies, and the endless connection we have with them.

Enjoy!

A friend of mine recently had a baby and posted her amazing home birth story within three days...(Elizabeth, I maintain that you are some sort of superwoman, if not THE Superwoman) and it inspired me to write out my home birth story... albeit 9 months late. Enjoy.

I was due August 17th. This day came and went. I wasn't ever overly uncomfortable in my pregnancy, it was more the excitement of wanting to meet this baby Kidd that made me antsy to get him...or her??...out.

On the19th my husband and I decided to go to Splash Montana for the day thinking perhaps the water slides just might inspire this little one to want to come out and see what the heck was going on. Down the slides we'd go, running up the stairs we went and on and on and on. After a fun-filled/exhaustive day we went on to Fort Missoula to play a little one on one.

I spared nothing. Running, jumping, hobbling was I, allllll over that court. Then, we walked the near mile around the park. Misery had now set in to my pubic bones. I may or may not have been shedding tears by the end of that mile.

The next day, no baby. BUT, by that night I awoke at 3am with my first real contractions. We began to time them (like all good first parents do) and within the hour they were lasting one minute and were 5 minutes apart. We called our amazing midwife, Sundhano, around 6:30am and she came about 7.

As soon as she arrived she checked me and much to my delight I was 5 centimeters! I labored on my bed til 10am when I got into the kiddie pool blown up in our living room just for the occasion. Clyde had been tirelessly filling it with a hose hooked up to our washing machine for about 2 hours... draining the hot water tank.

One of my big fears was that the water wouldn't be warm enough for me to get in because we would run out of hot water. It needed to stay between 98 and 103 degrees to get in. However it was 107! He added a touch of cold and I was good to go. Labor in the pool was like paradise... nearly...

Clyde was making Sundhano and I huckleberry smoothies in ice cream sundae cups... A few hours later I thought I'd like to know my progress and when she checked she noticed there was an anterior lip to my cervix. Basically the cervix was 'hung up' so to speak on the back/top of the baby's head. I will spare the details on how that needed to be resolved. Youch.

Also, my water hadn't broken and after being given the pros and cons to having her break it I decided to let her do it... why keep this baby in there any longer? She had a heck of a time breaking it... I was actually birthing the water bag and she still had a very hard time breaking it. After 4 or 5 tries though it worked. By 4pm my contractions were 1 minute apart... transition had set in and so had the tears.

At this point Sundhano suggested I get out of the pool (MUCH to my dismay) because gravity would now be a good thing to have on my side. Off to the birthing stool, which was set up in our bedroom, I went. I began to push despite NOT having the urge to push... I hear women say, "Oh you'll know when to push, you won't be able to not push..." and things like this.

Well, I never had that urge. Ever. I just decided it'd be a good idea to start pushing with each contraction. I pushed for a bit... maybe 30 minutes when Sundhano had her doppler heart monitor on me to check the baby's heartbeat. It'd been about 140 beats per minute and this particular time when we heard it it was about 70 b/min. She didn't panic or say that this was a bad thing necessarily, but I perceived that it was bad and I decided that this baby was coming out on the next push.

Lo and behold, out came a 7 lb baby in the next push... and he hadn't even been crowning yet. Clyde was on the floor next to Sundhano this whole time and got to be so involved in the entire process, which was so priceless. She handed me a screaming little baby boy and about 10 seconds after I had him in my arms he completely stopped crying and looked directly into my face with these big, dark blue eyes.

I knew he knew me and I knew I'd always known him... like his soul had always been a part of me but now was realized by inhabiting this tiny, perfect baby. And a love that I'd never known before this moment came spilling out of me... our baby, baby Ellis, was born.

An Accidental Freebirth- BEAUTIFUL!

I love this beautiful birth story! I think it highlights the difference between a pitocin induced forced labor and an amazing and natural home birth. I hear women who have only been induced and then have a natural birth comment on how "easy" it is so much so that they don't even realize how close they are to having the baby! Thanks for sharing mama-

Enjoy!

I had been getting contractions in the evenings for a few days prior to real
labor. They would come every 10-20 minutes apart but never increased in intensity or really hurt.

On Monday the 29th, I started out the day
feeling really cranky and out of it. I started getting contractions
around 2 PM that quickly sped up to 4-6 minutes apart. They still felt
like BH, so I didn't know if I was in labor or not, but I was bound and
determined to get the house cleaned up and ready for birth if it was
actually imminent.

After dinner we eventually called my parents to come and get our three-year old DS because dealing with him was starting to get really stressful for me. Contractions still had not gotten moreintense, but I was getting a lot of shooting cervical pains. I called
the midwives to give them a heads up, and they told me to try to get
some rest and to call when I got serious about the contractions. DH and I rented a movie, and as I relaxed, things started to peter out, although they moved farther down and felt less like BH.

They continued intermittently throughout the night and finally stopped around 4 AM (my
best guess since I was asleep and only woken intermittently by them).
The next morning, I felt stupid that we had shipped DS off to my parents house, but my mom told me to take it easy and try to finish up my nesting. I was getting contractions once every hour or so, so I was feeling a bit discouraged.

I ate some pineapple and DH and I DTD, hoping to get things moving again. We decided to go walk around the local "Towne Centre" even though it was raining to see if that would
speed things up as well. I was starting to feel heavy and I felt what I was fairly certain was my first obviously real contraction right after we started walking, around 2:30. We walked around for a while and I started to feel like I needed to be at home.

I felt like things were just beginning, so I tried to finish final cleaning around the house and then set up the tub. DH went out to run a couple of errands and I was all alone. I started to "get serious" about the contractions and finally realized that I needed to call the midwives around 6:45.

I was really wanting to get in the tub and was waiting impatiently for it to
fill up. I got some snacks together because I was suddenly ravenous and I heated up my RRL infusion and put some honey in it. I carried all of this stuff up the stairs and got the rest of my birth supplies together and got in the wonderful, wonderful tub. My contractions weren't that
bad in my estimation (compared to my posterior, pit-induced, stressful,
pain med free hospital birth), but boy did that water make everything much easier.

I was just starting to worry that DH wouldn't make it home in time to turn the water off for me when I heard him come in. He came up and started doing a few last minute things for me when I suddenly felt pushy during a contraction.

This was very confusing to me because I'd only felt really serious about this labor for a little over an hour. I wrote it off and ignored the urge as much as possible. I had DH massage my lower back and press my illia together during the next two contractions, and then
he left to do something. I decided to check myself and could feel the
baby's head not too far away.

I was shocked and called out to him "I don't want you to panic, but I think that we're going to have to do this ourselves." He started rushing around and called the midwives to let
them know and I was barely keeping the baby's head inside as I called
for him to come to me. He ran in the room and saw that the head was out and I yelled for him to come and catch the body.

We flipped him up on my chest and everything was perfect. He was born at approximately 7:40. The midwives showed up about 10-15 minutes later (the traffic was
really bad because it was raining) and checked us both out and said
everything looked wonderful.

I only really pushed for three or four contractions, which again is in
stark contrast to the six hours I pushed with DS1. I didn't tear or
even get a scratch. My "real" labor was only 5 1/2 hours long compared
to 18 hours with DS1. It was so peaceful and empowering and I'm so
grateful for how everything worked out. ____