Thanks For Listening

From this place

I just want to take one cheesy minute and say thank you for reading my blog.  Thank you for commenting.  Thanks for taking time out of your day to include me in it. 

This spot is actually very special to me.  I just love writing in this space.  I am not a writer.  It is glaringly obvious that I am also NOT a speller.  Grammar......meh. 

I like here though, on this blog.  Embarrassing mistakes, opinions I shouldn't have uttered, thoughts that I would never share in person- it is all fun for me.  I like blogging and I like writing and I love birth and motherhood is such a fabulous journey.

I am grateful to all of you who read and share your thoughts and your opinions and your stories and your beautiful pictures here too.  You make my life brighter.  You make me feel like I matter.  When you challenge me and my big dumb opinions, you make me re-think and re-evaluate and dig deeper and realize if I am REALLY sure about that. 

I love it.  I love that you hang out.  I love hearing from you.

Thanks for being part of my virtual life. 

I would say I love you, but I don't really know you and I am just not that in touch with my softer side.  But if I was, I would say it. 

Thanks-

Sunny Side Up and in the Caul~ A Birth Story

I love this intuitively birthed posterior baby and the lessons it tells about how amazing our bodies and our babies are when they work together.  
This is a once in a lifetime thing- a posterior baby born in the caul!

Enjoy!
~~~

This is the story of my 3^rdbaby. I have delivered all 3 of my children un-medicated. One at a hospital, one at home, and my 3^rdbaby was at a birth center because we were moving and my home was literally in boxes. My hubby had been working across the state for 3 months and we would see him most weekends. As my ‘due date’ came closer, I started to worry that he might miss the whole dang thing- my other 2 were early by 7-10 days. I was exhausted both physically and emotionally trying to work, pack, and care for these kids by myself.

I casually asked my midwife if she would be willing to …….help, for lack of a better word………me go into labor when I was 38 weeks 2 days because I had been having contractions, was dilated to a 5 and effaced. (which is normal for me- I usually spend the last few weeks that way) I was truly terrified that my sweetheart wouldn’t make it if we didn’t get things going that weekend when he was in town.

She agreed to try stripping my membranes, and giving me some herbs- but cautioned that it probably wouldn’t work because this was the earliest I had gone. She……helped………me at 10:00 on a Saturday Morning. I think I prayed more fervently than I had in a long time- 1) that baby would decide that today was in fact a great day to come, and 2) because I felt incredibly selfish that I had requested to be essentially “induced” via natural methods. (and this is not meant to offend those who do choose to be induced- it was just a tough decision for me to make.) She sent us on our way, and we went home to wait.

After a couple of hours, contractions started to happen regularly- about every 3 minutes. They were not intense though- just regular. We walked around my neighborhood a few times to see if we could get them to intensify- but to no avail. They did keep coming though. We started doing pressure points- and immediately after my hubby- his name is Dan- would apply pressure to the inside of my ankle, an intense contraction would follow. So, every time I started to contract he would apply pressure.

You have to push pretty hard- and I had bruises on my ankles from it! I had been in contact with my midwife throughout the day- and about 4:30 we decided * just in case * intense labor started to kick in that we would take our kids to my aunts house (she would be watching them overnight while I gave birth). I’m glad I heeded that prompting- because before we made the 7 minute journey to her house, I had 3 GINORMOUS contractions that took my breath away. This feeling was familiar, and I knew we would be heading straight to the birth center.
 

I chose this sassy little get up to labor in- and labor truly picked up full steam ahead. My contractions brought me to my knees, and my low groaning with deep breathing helped me through them. In between, rocking side to side felt the best. I had only been there maybe an hour- and it was to the point where there was very little break from one contraction to the next. I needed the tub!! I LOVE the tub!! My midwife drew up my water- and I got in. * Que relaxing sigh* It felt so good- her tub is huge- I could move around and get into any position. It is also padded- which believe it or not made a huge difference.

I found it very strange that I wanted to be up on one knee and in a deep squat with the other leg- because I distinctly remember with my 2^ndbaby thinking how uncomfortable that would be. My contractions were so strong- and I got to that point that we all get to and say “I can’t do it anymore- this is too intense”. I’m not afraid to say that with all 3 I have been brought to that point- and the triumph that comes after when you recognize the strength of your body and you do it.

I felt “the urge”- that unmistakable and involuntary feeling of needing to push. But I also felt some reservation in doing so. With my other 2 I had pushed maybe 5 times and they were out. This time it was different- I felt like I needed to bring baby down slow. Instead of pushing with all of my might with each contraction- I breathed deep and held him back. It was the strangest feeling- my body took total control.

Dan quit saying “next push and baby will be here!!” after about 20 minutes when he realized it wasn’t happening. I “pushed” like this for about an hour and a half- I could feel he was coming lower and lower. I had earlier declined having my water broken because it usually breaks when I start pushing anyway- and I’m thankful I did. Finally I felt that burnin’ ring of fire- I knew baby was just about here. As he started to crown- my midwife yelled- in a good way- “Oh my goodness!! He was posterior and in the sac!! I have never seen that happen before!!”

At some point he had rotated to a face up position- which makes for a tough labor. I understood why I had the feeling of reservation and bringing him down slowly. Had I pushed and blasted him out, I very well could have torn from end to end. I am amazed at the body- amazed at what it knows if we just listen to it. At this point we still did not know the gender- we chose to be surprised.

It wasn’t like I had imagined- I thought the first thing I would look for was if baby was a boy or girl. But, I just snuggled that sweet baby- amazed once again at this miracle we call birth. It wasn’t for a couple of minutes that we figured out he was indeed a boy- our THIRD!! And we were ecstatic. 

After a few minutes, I passed him off to Dan. I was so physically and emotionally exhausted that I could not hold him. I sat in the tub for about 30 minutes waiting to deliver the placenta. Once that was all done, I stood up, showered off, and got snuggled in bed with my brand new baby boy. Every birth is a new testimony to me of the sacred and very real power we as mothers have to connect to our very souls- and have that connection be met by another living being. We work together- moms and babies. Every birth has been emotional for Dan- with each baby I have a similar picture of him crying with sheer gratitude and respect for this power we have been given.

And that’s one of my stories. 7lbs 12 oz……..21 inches long.

Each Birth Is Different- An Easier Second Birth

It is so fun to be able to share not one but two birth stories from the same mother.  Not long ago I shared this mama's first birth story, a LOOOONNNNNGGGG natural birth.  It was a great story, especially I think because we all imagine an orgasmic 3 hour natural birth in pool or something.  

But- I love this story from the same mother too- and how different it is.  Sometimes we as women get caught up in fear surrounding the birth experience with our first baby and we have a hard time remembering that each birth is different.  This one is NOT the last one. 

Ladies, enjoy this story, and I hope it eases your mind if you have worries about an  upcoming additional child for your family.  Each birth and each baby are an entirely new experience and will be treasured for different reasons.  

Enjoy~

Leo’s Birth Story
March 27, 2011 5:52 pm
Saturday, March 26: 40 weeks, 1 day

On Saturday, we lazed around the house and enjoyed the time together. We did some light cleaning and laundry, read lots of books to B, my son, and I took a nice nap. I was having bunches of Braxton-Hicks contractions that felt a little bit “more” than they had, with some funny back pain in my tailbone and pelvis. Having had back labor with B, I was a little paranoid that Little Bee had rotated to a posterior position and I was in for a lot of trouble. Looking back, Saturday was eerily similar to the first day of pre-labor I had with B: lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions with back pain, coming pretty consistently. I mentally prepared myself for several days of this type of pre-labor and tried to save my strength.  

The BH ‘Plus’ contractions, as I called them, were coming so consistently that we decided to give everyone a call just as a precaution. I started timing contractions online and we did that for an hour or so before calling Kate, our midwife. I told her what was going on: having stronger than normal BH contractions that were coming about every 10-15 min and lasting about 1 min; I was going to have half a glass of wine and a nice relaxing bath to see if they stopped. I told her I hadn’t had any other signs of labor: no discharge, no mucus plug, no bloody show and that I was going to rest as much as possible tonight. She said that was fine and to give her a call if anything changed or if we needed her to come.
Sunday, March 27

I had unevenly spaced contractions throughout the night. These contractions I forced myself to relax through and tried to rest as much as I could. I didn’t time them or pay attention to the clock, but I think they spaced out to between 20-30 minutes and I was able to get some nice sleep. Finally, we all got up around 7; J, my husband, took B out to the living room and I went to the bathroom. As soon as I wiped, I knew I had made some progress overnight. Finally: some bloody show and mucus!  

I went out to the living room and said “This is it”. I wanted to wait a little while to make sure we were in a good pattern before calling Kate, so we had a little breakfast and went about our usual activities. I found that the contractions were best managed while on hands and knees. Unfortunately, B decided that whenever Mama was down on the ground was a perfect time to climb on me or to crawl under my belly. I had to gasp at him “Just a minute! No, no!” a few times and felt those contractions were more painful than ones I could focus through.  

I was feeling a lot of pain in my back where the tailbone and pelvis meet. It almost felt as though I had put on a too-hot rice bag and was burning the skin in that area. The pain wrapped around through my hip area but I didn’t feel any menstrual-like cramping or other pain. When I felt a contraction building, I would sway and say to myself “Don’t fight this. Don’t fight it. Just relax. Relax through it.”

Contractions were steady at around 1 minute in length and 3-4 minutes apart when we called Kate at 9 am. J told her I was still coping really well and that there was no rush to whenever she wanted to stop by. She said she would go to church with her family and be over sometime between 11:30 and 12. The next several hours were much of the same. Contractions were becoming more intense but still manageable. I added to my mantras “Don’t stop trying. Try. Try to relax. Don’t fight this.” 

Kate stopped by around 11:30. She said she’d like to just hang out and observe for a little while to get an idea of how we were doing. We listened to the baby’s heart and it was exactly the same as it had been throughout the pregnancy. Kate suggested that we call our babysitter and get B ready to go, as she could tell that he was distracting me through contractions and that might be slowing things down.

Our babysitter came by a short while later and J got B ready to leave. B got and his shoes on and before I knew it, he was walking out the door. J called B back inside to give me a hug goodbye and then my firstborn was gone. That was a really hard moment to deal with because I knew how much was going to change before he came back. Watching him be driven away really struck home that this was going to happen and things were going to change forever.

Kate observed me for a little while longer, and then she asked if we wanted a cervical check just to see where we were at. While in the bathroom, I could hear J and Kate putting guesses down to how far along I was. I didn’t hear what J’s guess was, but Kate said “I’m thinking she’s between 3-5 and 80-90% effaced”. (I was hoping for a 4+ report.) I hopped up onto the bed and Kate did the exam. She was in there for what seemed like a LONG time and then she said “You’re a 7- 7 ½!”  I was shocked and stared at her. I was handling contractions pretty easily still, I had no idea that I was almost to transition! It had taken me close to 24 hours to get to this stage with B. 

 

J and I both wanted some time alone without any distractions, so Kate left for a bit. The pain in my back was millimeters lower than where it had been in the morning. I started exhaling very forcefully during contractions and used just a bit of that force to move the contraction down. I wouldn’t say that I was pushing in any way, but it was a sort-of ‘bear down’ action. During this time I experienced my first double-peak contractions and they were really hard to get through. I was used to having the contraction build, peak, and wane. The double-peak contractions seemed to peak and wane slightly but then built up again almost unbearably.

Kate and Connie (midwife’s apprentice) came back not much later and busied themselves setting up all the necessary equipment and supplies. Finally, I had a really hard contraction on the toilet and J asked me if I’d like to lie down. I nodded and he led me to the bed. I thought that lying down would make the contractions hellishly unbearable, but I was so tired. I lay on my left side and tried to relax. I only had two relatively easy contractions during the 20 minutes I was lying down. After the second contraction, I asked J how long I’d been there. When he replied, I said “Well, this is not going to get the baby out” and climbed out of bed. I felt remarkably clear-headed. The contractions picked up a little bit but didn’t feel any different. I was trying to bear down a bit with each one and that felt ok. Still, I wasn’t having the overwhelming urge to push that I remembered from last time. 

 

Kate checked me again and felt a lip of cervix that completely disappeared during the contraction. I don’t know how long I went before the contractions became more ‘pushy’. I pushed squatting for a while, although the pushes were hit-or-miss. Sometimes I got into a groove and made good progress, other times I just didn’t feel it. I moved to a side-lying position on the bed and Kate asked if she could help direct my pushing. I felt like I was pushing blindly and fruitlessly. So with the next contraction Kate helped me to feel where I should be pushing and that was both better and worse: better because I was making progress again, but worse because it made the pushing so much more painful.

I became really wimpy at this point and started saying “It hurts, it hurts” and “It’s never coming out”. Everyone reassured me that, yes the baby was going to come out. The heart tones were checked more frequently and it was reassuring to feel the doppler moving farther and farther down my belly as the baby descended.  


During one contraction, there was a big burst as my water broke all over the bed and everyone on it. I asked if it was clear, and was told yes. I got to a really hopeless point where I felt the baby was not progressing. Kate said that I was trying to move the baby past my pubic bone; it was rocking back and forth with each contraction, sliding back a little less each time. They announced they could see the baby’s hair, which was pretty cool. At one point, I was pushing and the baby punched me in the birth canal. Kate said “Well that’s not very nice to your mama, baby!”

Finally, after what felt like millions of fruitless pushes, I had one that transitioned from PUSHto OMG BURNING. I thought it was really interesting that my mind seemed to be in two places at once: one part of me was squarely in the birth and thinking “OMG this HURTS”while another part was clear headed and thinking how neat it was that I naturally changed my breathing to panting to ease the baby’s head out. I could feel myself stretching, stretching, stretching... then a pause where I held the head in place and panted... then a little push again and I could feel more of the head come out. I asked “Is it out, yet?” and Kate said “We have an ear” and just then, the rest of the head came out! What a relief. I bore down and shrieked: and the baby was out!  

Baby was lifted up and onto my belly; I can remember seeing the little feet and the cord. I was so happy that it was OVERand the pain was DONE. I kept saying “Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!” and “Welcome baby, welcome. Hi, baby.” Kate announced the time: 5:52 pm. I had been in ‘real’ labor for a little less than 12 hours! Kate climbed up on the bed beside me and was busy inspecting the cord. She asked me to give a little push for the placenta, and I tried. Nothing happened. Only on the second or third push the placenta came, along with a gush of blood. Kate massaged my uterus and more blood gushed out. It was kind of alarming how much there was coming out all at once. I was given some herbal tinctures for blood loss. 

 

I asked J if he wanted to check for the sex, and they lifted up the bottom of the towel. Kate said “It’s a... butt!” and then J said “It’s a boy!” He was delighted. We had our little Leo!Soon afterward, we decided to try to have Leo latch on, which he did really well. I was so happy to have a baby latch and suck right away and relieved that we would have a smoother breastfeeding initiation. 


The newborn exam was done and Leo came in at 8 lbs 6 ounces and 22 inches long with a 13 ¼ inch head! Kate inspected my perineum and, other than a slight skid mark over my tear from last time and a varicose vein, everything was perfect!  Kate and Connie went over the immediate postpartum instructions with us, and we took a look at the placenta. The veins on the inside making ‘The Tree of Life’ were gorgeous and prominent.

Soon afterward, B was brought home. J brought B into the bedroom and Kate took photos of B meeting his little brother. B was so excited to meet the new baby. He laughed and wanted to touch the baby’s head. It was just the response I had hoped for.  

Leo’s birth was healing for me in many ways. I was a little traumatized by the marathon that we endured for B and had hoped throughout the pregnancy to avoid a 30-hour labor. I was vigilant about performing positioning techniques to ensure that Leo was anterior. I forced myself to relax as much as possible during early labor and not to get too excited, wasting precious energy. J was an awesome partner, knowing just when I needed to rely on him and how to support me through contractions and pushing. He knew just the right things to say: “You’re doing great. You’re so close. The baby’s almost here”. Leo fit into our family easily and has been a joy to watch grow!

Rice Paddy Birth and Other Lies We Tell Pregnant Women

(Photo found here)

Any pregnant woman has heard about it.  The rice paddy birth.  

It usually goes something like this:

"We make such a big deal about having babies in this country.  Classes, hospitals, pain, blah blah blah.  You know in country XYZ, women are working in the rice paddies and they just squat, give birth, pick the baby up and keep on working."

Really?  Is there video proof of this?

Actually, to be fair, women have probably done this. 

Women ARE strong.  Birth IS a natural function.  And rice paddy birth is not only possible but has almost definitely happened.

Still, I really don't like the rice paddy birth story.  Let me tell you why.

First, it implies that birth is so easy that we could/should just jump back into our regular lives as soon as possible.  And I  happen to think this is totally bogus.  (Did I just make it obvious that I am a born and bred California girl, or what?)

You know what I think the truth is?  I think if I asked a woman who had given birth in a rice paddy and kept on working WHY she did that the answer would be kind of sad.  I bet she did it because she HAD TO in order TO SURVIVE.

My guess is that women who have to resume work that quickly after giving birth do so out of necessity, not a burning desire to prove their empowerment.

Let me tell you another guess I have about this overworked woman.  I bet she is less likely to survive birth and I bet her baby is less likely to survive too.   

I have no doubt that a lifestyle filled with exercise, squatting and activity can make birth quicker and easier.  I also have no doubt that birth is still hard work, hard on the body, and is designed to have a recovery period.

Some things happen whenever a woman gives birth--

1)  She loses blood. 

She made extra blood while pregnant so she can handle this loss, but still, blood loss can be exhausting.  She will continue to lose blood for weeks.  My humble, unprofessional opinion?  She should rest until the loss of blood comes to a complete stop and her baby is nursing and growing well.  

2)  She has a 6-9 pound child come out of her vagina. 

I had a friend recently tell me that after having children she felt like a freight train had come out of her crotch. I certainly believe that the female body is amazing and is designed to give birth and all that jazz.  I have however actually given birth and I concur with the above statement.  To say the very least, things are sore for a while. 


3)  She must nurture a baby outside of her body. 

This requires her to feed constantly a growing child for a little while.  The new baby needs mama all the time.  Mama must feed this baby constantly and so must also feed herself and stay rested so she can provide adequate care.  Being immediately and outrageously active is not necessarily conducive to either healing a body or feeding a baby. 

~~

When I talk to people from other cultures about how they honor the time of birth, I never hear stories about being at Walmart two days post-partum to buy toilet paper. 

What I do hear are women being taken care of, surrounded with love and family.  I hear about special diets, nutritious foods, and limits on when she is allowed to even leave her bed or her baby. 

And what I see underlying this reverence and care given to a woman when she has just given birth is also a reverence for birth, for babies and for the real work it is to bring life into the world.  A time of recovery and rest after birth is not unusual for women.  It shows that people the world over valued this time and saw the importance of taking it seriously so that both mom and baby could survive and thrive. 

I see something quite different when Western women are expected to jump right back into their "normal" life as soon as possible after having a baby.  I see a culture that doesn't value childbirth or the childbearing time.  I see a people who expect women to have  even surgery and then be fully functional within days.  I see a country that does not recognize or value the real work that is involved in motherhood or birth. 

Before you get upset and tell me how FABULOUS you felt after your natural birth, let me say this.  I have had natural births too and seen many other women have them.  A great birth IS often followed by a period of euphoria and energy.  In my experience it lasts a few days. 

In my experience though too- if you over-do it in those first few days when you are on your "birth high" you will pay for it later and it can cause your recovery to literally take weeks longer.

So let's stop discounting the work, the energy and yes, even the pain, that can be involved just after giving birth.  Instead let's reverence these few weeks and take them to rest, recover, and nurture our babies AND ourselves.  I think we could see some incredible improvements in both postpartum female recovery, breastfeeding rates, and even baby contentment. 

Birth in peace mama. 

And then take a nap. 

THE Missing Ingredient in Obstetric Training

(Picture found here.)

I have started reading a fabulous book by Carol Leonard who was a midwife who got her start in the 1970's by attending home births with a local OB.  The book is called "Lady's Hands, Lion's Heart" and I must say, it is SO STINKING GOOD.  Really.  You should go buy it HERE.


Anyhooo-

So I am reading tonight and I just start laughing uncontrollably and slapping my hand against the table.  My husband is like, "Say what?" and I read this too him:

(The author and midwife is talking to an OB she works with who she says is extremely gentle and kind to all his patients.  She asks him WHY he is so different than his peers.  He describes some of the women who trained him, Jamaican midwives and part of his "training.")

"Oh, it goes back to those Jamaican midwives in my residency, I guess.  They were set on humbling me, mostly because they could.  I want to think it was because they liked me.  They used to make me do nurses' work.  One day they said they wanted to teach me what it was like to be a woman patient.  They told me to go into the exam room and remove my pants and get up on the exam table with my feet in the stirrups.  I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, although it was probably twenty minutes or so.  Then a a beautiful female medical student came in , nodded to me briefly, snapped on a latex glove, and did a cursory rectal exam.  Then she said something unintelligible to me, distractedly patted my knee, and walked out of the room.  I lay there staring at the ceiling, my face burning with embarrassment.  Then I hear all the laughing outside in the hall.  They were right, those crazy women.  It was a lesson I will never forget."  

Ladies, if this isn't required to graduate as an OB, then gosh dang it, it SHOULD BE.

Hope that brightened your day.  It sure did mine.

Peace out-

(Carol Leonard did not pay me to write this blog post.  But if she wants to be my friend, I am all ears.)

Broken Water, Cord Prolapse

Wow.  

That was what I thought when I read this birth story.  It is quite a story.  I don't even know what to say besides that except I am glad all are well.  

I hope reading it it helpful for somebody.  Thank you to the mother for sharing something that must have been so horrifying at the time.  

Peace~

Cooper's Birth

I found out I was pregnant after a 3 week vacation to my parent's house by the beach. Turns out, it doesn't take two months to get your cycle back after nursing - like I thought. By the time I took the test, I was already 9 and a half weeks pregnant (although bloodwork said approximately 7 weeks). My husband and I were completely stunned. We have a 2 and a 1/2 year old, an 11 month old, and a new puppy. We were careful. We were cautious. We were sleeping in separate beds! The baby was still waking through the night and so was the puppy so we just found it best to sleep apart and tend to our "babies" separately.

By the time we could see my OB/GYN and get an ultrasound, they confirmed we were 12 weeks pregnant - which completely threw our whole timeline off. Now we were even more stunned, and scared, of what lie ahead. Life with 3 under 3. Will this baby have problems? Did those drinks I had while celebrating non-nursing motherhood hurt this tiny, unknown fetus? What will happen while Jeff goes to grad school for 8 days while I'm 8 months pregnant? The questions swirled around and around.

By 20 weeks I had several dreams/predictions of what may come with this baby. I dreamed for sure that I was going to have my third girl. She would be tiny, very early, perhaps precipitous, and I may have to give birth alone at my home. In my dream, I pulled her out of me and exclaimed, "It's a girl!" while cradling her small, perhaps premature, body. At the anatomy ultrasound, I should have known that all of my "mother's intuitions" were completely and utterly WRONG.

It was a boy.

"Are you sure? We don't make boys!"

So we ventured through Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and 2 birthdays. We survived eight days alone while Spud attended his limited residency program in Vermont - with only one minor incident. Seems that the "puppy," in all her gangly, teenage dog ways, blended into the carpet while I was walking and I tripped completely over her back, landing directly on my belly. Contractions soon ensued but 35 week old baby and I were perfectly fine.

At 36 weeks, another night of contractions. Painful, regular, and to the point of calling a doctor at midnight, just to see who was on call. Then nothing.

37 weeks. Same again. My mother is in town, determined not to miss this birth again. For my 3 year old's (Tater Tot's) birth, Grammy was on an airplane. And Small Fry (my fast-approaching 18 month old) was 3 weeks early, leaving all of us scrambling to find transportation, childcare, etc. After a night of steady contractions, swinging into the morning, my husband and I decide to go to the hospital just to get checked out. I'm 37.5 weeks, 3 cm, 60% effaced, contracting every 2-3 minutes, but not in active labor. They send us to walk, eat lunch, and come back later, hoping for change. I am admitted around dinner time that night and Spud and I walk the halls. Over and over again, up and down the stairwells, bouncing on the birthing ball, hoping for some change. Any change. After 14 hours since we first arrived, we decide to go home and relax, hoping to be back soon the next day. It never comes.

While we were at the hospital for early labor, we met my OB's colleague who was on call while my doctor was in Disney World. We fell in love with him instantly, his jokes and his cautious and natural approach to birth. When we left for a short time to get lunch and walk, we asked if he needed anything and he replied, "Ooh yeah, those little Reese's peanut butter cup eggs!" And so we did. Some for him and some for the nurses too. Helps to have happy nurses on your side.

This doctor told me that, while I was dilated, the baby's head was not engaged and he didn't feel comfortable breaking the water because he once had a cord prolapse and the baby almost died. He seemed so visibly shaken up by that memory and said, "I NEVER want to do that again!" It should have been a sign of things to come. I was tired and sick of contracting so often, and had resigned myself to allowing AROM (artificial rupture of membranes), as long as the doctor and I agreed to withold Pitocin unless I absolutely needed it. But his unwillingness to break my water and my unwillingness to accept drugs led us to a (peaceful) stand-still. We decided to go home.

We waited. And contracted. And waited. I felt like a fool. I had called into work, given away my shifts, texted my friends, and posted on Facebook that 'Tonight may be the night!' How foolish of me. We went in for my 38 week appointment, certain that some changes had been made, but again - no change and the head was still not engaged. We went home again, defeated and waited another week.

At my 39 week appointment, my regular OB was back in town and -to much joy! - was 8 weeks pregnant! I was happy for her and happy she was home, but dejected once again because I was still 3cm. The head had become engaged though, so she asked if I'd like to induce. I quickly said no, thinking she meant Pitocin, but then asked, "Maybe couldyou break my water?"

She knew that wasn't what I really wanted and told me she didn't think there was any room for inductions in the hospital for that night. But we set up an appointment to meet for my 40 week NST (non-stress test) and a BPP (biophysical profile) just to make sure baby was growing healthy and strong and could make it another week. She and I both agreed that we did not want this pregnancy to go past 41 weeks. I know people have babies at 46 weeks and are wonderfully healthy, but I just could not do that to myself.

The next week - I caved.

By Wednesday, I made up my mind to have my water broken. It was the worst decision I've ever made in my life.

My husband and I decided, of our own volition - without any doctor's sway, that something had to be done to progress this labor that had been stopping and starting for nearly 4 weeks. I was exhausted, completely sore, and was fearing my blood pressure was having problems because it was very high and I was starting to swell in my hands and legs/feet. I called my doctor's nurse and asked if she had any time to break my water after our 40 week appointment on Friday. The nurse called back and said that the doctor was not on call that weekend and didn't feel comfortable leaving an induction with another doctor after she went home for the evening. She would want to use Pitocin to speed things up before she went off call. But if I went in Thursday morning at 6am, she would break my water and I could labor drug free all I wanted to for 36 hours (a reasonable amount of time for me).

We called back and agreed, packing our bags and settling our children for the night. In the morning, they would be big sisters!

Remember how I had mother's intuitions? Everything was the opposite - he was a boy, he was the longest pregnancy I'd ever had, he was definitely not premature or precipitous or born on my kitchen floor while Spud was in Vermont. And, it turns out, I wouldn't be doing any catching of my own baby or even having delayed cord clamping like I would have liked. No, once we checked into the hospital at 6am Thursday morning, everything went completely and utterly wrong.

It seems the hospital lost my pre-admission paperwork. The shift changed at 7am and the new nurse had 15 minutes to ask me all of my admitting questions. I said, "I pre-registered, don't you have that information?" She was about to hunt down whether or not I'd ever had TB or if I had a last will and testament, when my doctor arrived to break my water. The time was now, I was ready, let's labor as naturally as I can with this augmentation and then have a healthy, natural, hippie crunchy birth.

7:15 The sac was very thick and took several tries to break. My doctor claimed to get it, but nothing was coming out so she asked the nurse for a little fundal pressure. I gave a small push and a little came out, clear without meconium, but in short bursts. We talked with her a few minutes more, about her trip to Disney World and my husband congratulated her on her pregnancy. We talked about how long she cares to let a progressively laboring woman go with a broken bag of waters (past 24 hours, by the way, as long as baby and mom are healthy). We seemed happy, but something was wrong. There was no water coming out.

Just as my doctor was getting up to leave, I asked if she could check again.

Something was wrong. Maybe the hole sealed back up or the baby's head was blocking the hole in the bag? She broke out another amnihook and tried again saying, "Remember, you asked for this. I'm sorry it hurts!"

I felt a huge gush of water this time, much better. I joked, "Sorry, did I get your pants wet?"

That's when I noticed her face changed.

"You know what? I just felt cord." She looked into my eyes. I'm not dumb. I know exactly what this means. It means no kissing my sweet baby before they can wipe away the vernix. It means no creative positions or holding my husbands hand and looking into his eyes while I give that one last push. It means no sweet skin to skin moments and instant breastfeeding and never ever giving him up.

It means instant c-section under general anesthesia.

"All right. Let's go." I say. I've accepted this. I made my bed, now I have to lay in it.

Then a string of expletives. Which I apologized for.

Within seconds, the room went from 4 people (doctor, nurse, my husband and I) to being filled with people. Lights were turned on bright. The nurse tried to help me take off my Bella Band (which I wore religiously throughout pregnancy due to a hernia), but we were unable to take off my sports bra without sitting up. When I tried, the whole room shouted, "Whoaaa!! Lay down Mama!" Whoops.

An anesthesiologist came in and was very calming and soothing to me. I told my husband to call my mom and, in the panic, he forgot how to use an iPhone. I called her, while being milled around by 30 nurses and workers, and yelled into the speaker phone.

7:22 "Do we have a baby yet?" she answered sweetly.

"Mom! I'm having a c-section! The cord fell out! I gotta go! I love you!"

Spud looks at me and says, "Honey I have to stay here, but I'll see you when you come out."

"Stay with the baby, ok? Be with him."

Suddenly, a woman my husband describes as having the smallest arms in the room, squirts medical jelly all over her hand and forearm. She climbs onto the bed and, in the most painful thing that has ever happened to me, she holds the baby's head off of his umbilical cord.

I swear some more.

They start to wheel me out of the room. Someone grabs at my necklace and I thought she took it off. The head charge nurse says, "Ok, let's cover mom up," and that's when I realize I'm spread-eagle with another woman's arm inside of me, about to be wheeled down a hallway, with every bump and corner, going 70 miles an hour while my baby slowly dies inside my belly. Obviously, I'm a little upset.

My doctor has raced ahead to scrub in and I can hear her once we get into the operating room. That was the best, most reassuring thing I could have ever heard. "It's ok, Mama. You're ok."

I'm awake while they swab me with iodine and place a catheter. Three more very loud swears and then profuse apologies. Everyone around totally agrees and says, "No really, it's ok. We understand."

She gowns up and I can't see her (because someone has removed my glasses early on), but I can hear her say, "I'm ready if you guys are ready."  "I'm ready, ok."

The anesthesiologist puts an oxygen mask over my nose and I hear him say, "When you wake up, you'll have a beautiful baby. Everything will be ok."

"Tell my husband to watch the baby. To be with him. Please."

:24 "His name is Cooper."

When I wake up, I feel like someone only paused the movie and then it starts up with full speed again. I jump into reality and ask to see my baby. Where's Spud? I need my glasses. What time is it? 8:20. It took 6 minutes? Is he ok? Yes I'd like to see pictures.

My doctor comes in. I'm so relieved you were here. She's so relieved I was in the hospital when it happened. "I don't even want to think about what would have happened if you were at home when your water broke."

Me neither.

In some flashes that are starting to dissolve in my memory, I regained my glasses, my phone, my husband, my voice, my thirst, and finally, my baby. I instantly put him to the breast and all of the nurses comment how well he's doing. They didn't feed him formula or sugar water, right? Of course not. Oh, but they gave him a bath, I say dejectedly. Jeff was busy calling people and posting pictures to Facebook. He couldn't be with him, something that I still regret, and they claimed that the baby needed some time under the warmer to warm up. There's a perfectly good, warm, fuzzy daddy right here, but I can't do anything about it now.

Now, he's here. He's mine. I won't let him go.

Except that... recovery from general anesthia is hard work. The nurse forgets that I didn't have a spinal and almost forgets my pain meds. A lovely little pain pump that can be pushed every eight minutes if my heart so desires, and boy does my heart so desire. However, somewhere around minute 3, I drift off into a rapid sleep and worry that I'm going to drop little Cooper.

He's 8 pounds, 6.9 ounces, and 21 inches long. His weight is the only thing I predicted correctly. My girls were 6lb, 4oz and 7lb, 5oz, each going up a pound and an ounce (or two) at a time. He's my biggest baby, my longest baby, my longest pregnancy, and my last. We had made the decision before that we weren't going to have any more, but I still had a few doubts about completely getting rid of my fertility. Not quite thirty, I'm just not ready to take that chance in case I have another marriage or want to be a surrogate for someone else. After this, I'm done. I don't want to take any more chances.

I blame myself every day for what happened. I know my doctor blames herself too and I know that some people would try to use that legally against her, but I'm not one of those people. I made the decision to have my water broken. I made the decision to ask her to try again because something didn't feel right. My doctor told me later that she was not aware that 2 weeks prior, the ultrasound showed a cord by his face. At the time, I didn't think that was an issue. Cords move and float around, right? And once the head is engaged, that shouldn't be an issue, right? Apparently, wrong.

There are many "what ifs" that surround my head with this birth. What if the bag never broke? She said it was very thick and probably wouldn't have broken on it's own. Some people birth in the caul, and I was prepared for such an event, but it seemed like that was the one thing holding me back from progressing. What if my water broke at home? Would the cord have come out? Would I have known something was wrong, or just waited at home for my contractions to get stronger like every natural birth site advises me to do just to avoid interventions from the doctors? Would I have known to reach in and feel the cord, and if I did, would I have known to try to keep it inside and stay level?

There is a .5% chance of cord prolapse in a labor without Pitocin, under normal circumstances. Yes, I had an augmentation, something that I had with my first - a planned induction due to previous doctor's "commitments" (nose job), and with my second, a drug free birth. I'm not saying I ever wished for this to happen, but if it had to happen, I'm glad it happened quickly so I didn't have to think and worry about it, and due to a real medical emergency and not an OB's "failure to wait." Truly a "necceasarian," I feel that I am blessed to have had my own doctor on duty, my husband with me, my children with my mom safely at home, my baby born pink instead of blue, screaming instead of limp. I'm glad I live in a world that has access to hospitals and quick responding code team members and good sweet pain meds when you've been sliced from stem to stern (apparently, my doctor was in such a rush to save him, she went a little crooked and long with the incision. Which is perfectly fine - all that matters is that he's out and safe).

I'm not saying home birth is a bad idea - and would NEVER say that - but all along I always thought that it was a bad idea for ME. I would say, "My husband's not a doctor. He wouldn't know the first thing about how to take care of me if something went wrong." And that's the truth. He's not meant to know and that's fine. I would have loved to have a great, relaxing hippie crunchy au naturale birth like my second baby, but this one was not meant to be.

Cooper James, however, was meant to be here, on this earth. And is so very loved.

10lb12oz 42 Weeks + 3 Days HBAC!

You know what, I just love it when a woman says, "YES I CAN" when it comes to birthing her baby.  These days there is a lot of hate for the mama who dares go "overdue" and this one birthed safely both postdates and as a VBAC.  Good for her for knowing what she was capable of.  Love it!  And what an inspiration for other VBAC mamas.  

Enjoy~

Picture from sodahead.com

To tell this story I have to start with my first birth. I knew I wanted a natural birth so I went to a local birth center for care through midwives. They were supportive and amazing and had a wonderful birth center and I was so excited to use it! I remember going on the tour and picking out my room. At 40 weeks we laughed about a stubborn baby. 

At 41 weeks we were given the talk about how after 42 weeks we would not be able to use the birth center, but that was okay we could have our natural birth at the close hospital and they do that all the time. At 42 weeks we scheduled  my induction… 42+4 I was induced and after 36 hours of labor where every part of my birth plan went out the window my 10lb4oz son was born via a c-section. And I was devastated. 

And I swore I’d never give birth in a hospital again.

Fast forward to 15 months later and me finding out I was pregnant again. A thrilled and happy surprise but a scary one: I had still not accepted my scars from my first birth and soon I would have to do it all over again. I found an awesome home birth midwife covered by my insurance company in network no less. She assured me from day 1 I’d have a great homebirth. 

I felt comfortable with her care. I picked out an amazing doula to support me during labor. And then at 20 weeks my midwife got a call that the nursing board was suspending her license and she had to stop practicing ASAP.  I was told I could wait and see the result of a hearing a month away or I could find new care. 

I instantly began to hunt for new care. In my area there are very few CNM options and none of the CNM options left would perform a home birth VBAC. I started to look into CPMs and again found most would not perform a home birth VBAC. Thankfully I found an amazing midwife who took me on as a client and said “VBAC? No problem. 10lb baby? No problem. Overdue? No problem”. 

I loved her. 

I gladly drove the hour to hour and a half each way to visit her for each appointment. As my due date got closer we all got more and more anxious: would this baby come on time? At 40 weeks we joked the baby would come tomorrow because it was the worst possible day. At 41 weeks I went to my appointment trying to smile but they knew I was tired. At 42 weeks I broke down and said “I’m cooked, what do I do to get this baby out?” I’d tried just about everything… everything but Castor oil which we all know is a last resort. 

I knew plenty of people who had used it successfully and even my midwife herself said the same however online people said things about how intense and quick their labors were and how bad the stomach issues were. I went back and forth and back and forth for the entire week about the Castor oil and decided that Friday night I would give it a shot. I tried all other natural methods of getting this baby out first but sadly, nothing worked. 

At my last midwife appointment we agreed it was time for this baby to come out. He was low and positioned great and I was dilating and effacing so things were heading in the right direction. I left with the mindset that the next day I would be meeting my baby. 

After my appointment I went to Target for some last minute supplies, I got home and my husband and I decided that we would go out and get dinner instead of worrying about cooking. In the car ride home from getting dinner I started having contractions and was hopefully they would turn into labor and maybe I wouldn’t be taking the Castor oil after all! I took a nap on the couch from about 830 to 930 and of course during said nap my contractions totally stopped. Depressed I woke up and forced down the Castor oil and took myself to bed. 

They say it takes 3 – 5 hours to work. They were sort of right… It took about 1 hour for my bowls to empty themselves. It was not pretty… and then 2 more times I got up and went “oh my gosh I need the bathroom now”. However at the 5 hour mark is about when the contractions hit. And oh my god did they hit hard.

I assumed I would have a nice ease into labor… you know, mild contractions every 5 minutes apart and I would sleep for the first few hours. This was NOT to be. I woke up at 2am and went to the bathroom having a few contractions… I made it back to bed and woke my husband up and said “I think this is it”. They hurt, a lot, and they were not giving me the break I expected. I told him to get my cell phone so we could call the midwife and doula and let them know. According to my online contraction timer they were already 3 or so minutes apart and 30 – 40 seconds long. 

I called my midwife who said “okay, call back in an hour and let me know where you are” which was fine but I quickly realized I would need some form of support ASAP and my doula is about an hour away. I had my husband call her because at that point I realized I needed a new coping method. At this point the contractions were killing me and I was latterly just trying to find some sort of comfortable position and was dripping sweat so I did what seemed like the best idea at the time… I got in my bathtub and turned it on.

Let me say here and now water is AMAZING in labor. AMAZING. I know it can stall labor out if you aren’t progressing well but at this point I wasn’t really thinking of that. My husband in the meantime began to assemble the birth tub (another AMAZING piece of birth equipment every woman should have!). So I lay in the bathtub trying to cope through the contractions. Breathing, rocking, whatever felt good. All I could think is “I need help, I need help” because my  husband was downstairs putting together the tub. 

Around this point my husband called our midwife back and they quickly realized it was time to head over. The midwife sent her student ahead first to set up and see how things were progressing. Shortly after this my amazing doula showed up. I am so glad I found her because she was the most amazing support during my labor. To say it was intense would be an understatement… I expected pain but I thought it would be a more gradual buildup not this insane “oh my god I’m in labor it hurts”. I was afraid because that’s how my pitocin contractions hit last time and I had to cave to an epidural fairly quickly because it got so intense. This time I had no such options.

A lot of this part is already a blur of me rocking, moaning, yelling, cursing, crying, and generally being an in labor pregnant woman. I couldn’t tell you any times because I am not really sure myself. I know the student midwife showed up, checked things out, said I was fully effaced and progressing nicely. Half of me wanted to ask how far but I didn’t want to be discouraged so I wisely said nothing. They kept assuring me my tub was almost ready and soon I could get in. My bathtub is not that big so while at first it wasn’t bad to labor in I was starting to feel constricted. 

After what seemed like an eternity they said “yep, its ready, but lets see if you can pee first”. I didn’t pee but my waters did break in the best possible place, the toilet! Half of me was terrified that they would see meconium in there. I had heard stories that Castor oil causes that and my son had it in his. But nope, nice and clear so I made my way downstairs to the tub. I had 2 contractions on the way down the stairs and somehow managed to stay completely silent having one next to my sons room. Did I mention that he slept through about 80% of the birth? 

The tub was the most amazing thing ever. The water plus the freedom to move around… TOTALLY amazing. This was also getting kinda close to when I probably hit transition… and my son woke up. I don’t remember much except I hit a point where I wanted drugs and I couldn’t do it any longer. I remember having a total meltdown shortly before the pushing stage that I would die… that I would tear in half, my scar would rip open, and I would die. 

I also remember I went into a sort of “zone” shortly after this… it was very strange… I wasn’t aware of what was going on around me or time passing or much of anything. They talk about labor as becoming very primal. My husband often asked me what I would be like during labor and I said I had no idea at all… I had no clue what to expect. It was at times as if some natural instinct took over… I remember lots of moaning and rocking and at one point I remember very vividly biting down on the birth tub and at another time I used it like a drum and was beating on the side during the contractions. Most of it is a blur.

Until I got to pushing however. I’ve read stories from woman who say the pushing isn’t less painful per say, its different pain… and oh how true they are. The contractions were insanely intense and the only thing that relieved the pain was pushing. It was a different kind of pain but better and more bearable. I would get waves of 3 contractions very close together followed by a nice long “break” where I would sit and rest. My amazing support team was there applying cold washcloths to my face and neck, handing me liquids to keep me hydrated, and pressing on my back.

 I remember my midwife showed up at some point and my husband was getting ready to take my son to our family friends house and everyone said “I don’t know if you have an hour and a half” so we opted to let him stay. This was not part of my birth plan but everyone assured me he would be fine and at that point I was not really focused on much except the thought that my husband may miss the birth. My son was totally unphased apparently. I know he kept coming up to the tub and watching me and other then that he wandered around playing with things and enjoying the fact he was able to eat whatever he wanted. Again, totally unphased. 

So back to that pushing thing. After a good hour it was obvious the position I was in, while comfortable, was not producing a baby so they suggested I started to switch to new positions. I remember not wanting to do this but after a few pushes in a new position I felt the baby had moved lower and so I spent probably another good 30 – 45minutes trying new positions to get this baby out. It was close but we just couldn’t get it to come down the last little bit so my  midwife suggested I get out of the tub and try a birth chair. At that point I was able to try anything to get this baby out. 

As I said earlier, water is your friend during birth. Those contractions out of the water where insanely intense and excruciating… but it worked. I made it through a few good ones in the birth chair before FINALLY the head started to come out. And let me just say that feeling that head with my own hands gave me the strength to get through the last 15 – 20 minutes of pushing. They kept reassuring me “slow and steady is best” but the burning and insane pain and pressure and feeling of “oh my god make this end”. 

I remember saying that over and over… I remember at one point saying “just tell me its just a few more pushes, please just a few more”. They didn’t want to say that because they didn’t know, but I told them to tell me that anyway. I just needed to hear the end was near even though I knew it was. 

And then out he came in one last big push. No one expect him to pretty much fly out like that. He had this tiny bit of head showing and then all of a sudden there he was! I felt it and I vaguely remember seeing him come out and before I could even register what had happened he was in my arms and I was holding him. I still didn’t know it was a him at this point. I remember just taking a moment to hold him before I looked. No mistaking that he was most definitely a boy! I just remember holding him in shock and awe and it was very much an out of body experience. 

At this point the exhausted and everything finally caught up to me and I started to feel light headed. They gave me an injection of pitocin and out the placenta came about 8 minutes after Garrett did. They helped me over to the couch where they gave me some oxygen, food, and water. At this point I think my son came over and suddenly started to be like “huh, whats that?” and my midwife went to get a better look at what tearing had occurred. 

No one wanted to say I had torn before that but the look on her face pretty much said it all… it was beyond her repair skills. While further discussion was made of the next plan of action we latched my little guy on and let him breastfeed, which he did like a champion. I also sent messages to a few people who I knew had to be some of the first to know what had happened. 

It was decided that we would go to a local hospital that is very pro natural birth and a midwife oriented birth option. It was a little farther away but we all agreed the best choice. We decided to call ahead just to make them aware we were coming and it was decided that my doula and the midwife student would come with me as “friends” and my  midwife would stay home with my husband and both kids. 

Then we all took a turn at “guess the weight of the baby”. I knew instantly he was going to be more than my son… he was MUCH chunkier… but I still wasn’t close with my guess of 10lbs8oz. Nope, my midwife just about gasped when she weighed him at 10lbs12oz! Big boy! We were all chuckling and joking about that. The rest of his measurements were big too: 21.5inches long and a 15inch head. 

At this point my midwife also suggested he possibly had turned posterior in the birth canal because of the fact that he crowed at the front of his head and came out face first! We’re not 100% sure if that is what happened, but between his massive size and his very speedy exit it explains my tearing.

I called my mom quickly to let her know what happened while giving Garrett another good nursing session as we knew I’d be gone for a few hours. Somehow people found me clothes to wear and got me up and walking and into the car. Thankfully it was early on a rainy Saturday morning so no one was outside. I’m sure I looked wonderful! 

The trip to the hospital was amusing because I wasn’t 100% sure how to get there so we followed GPS which took us through a toll… which neither my doula nor I had exact change for! We were sitting at the toll both scrambling to find the exact change in pennies and dimes. We did make it there in the end and I’m pretty sure I was the talk of the rest of the nurses rotations.

They of course asked me all the preliminary questions. We were vague for many reasons, primarily the fact my state is currently not very home birth friendly (though its not illegal) and so we  just opted to tell them less over more. My original midwife used to actually practice at the hospital so I mentioned I had been seeing her for the first half of my pregnancy. 

Amusingly no one asked me how I had given birth the first time so it wasn’t until half way through suturing me up that everyone realized I had just had a home birth VBAC. Everyone at the hospital however was amazing. It was a bad tear, I knew because the doctor who sewed me up pretty much warned me it was going to take a lot of stitches. I lost count of how many it was and how long it took. I spent my time fielding questions about my birth and my job. 

Finally they were done and I was put back in a wheelchair and back into a car. By the time I got home the adrenaline rush from earlier was staring to wear thin. I was ready to just be home with my boys. I got in the house and even though I knew Garrett had to be hungry my son ran to me and said “me me” and I knew he needed me so I let him nurse. 

And nurse he did, for a good 5 to 10 minutes. After that I was handed a very hungry baby who also proceeded to nurse. At this point a lot of things happened around the same time: my doula left, my mom called, and my midwife left, and suddenly we were alone… just the 4 of us. It was surreal and odd to be sitting there together, now a family of 4. 

Nothing could have prepared me for labor and birth. Not reading enough books, not taking classes, nothing. What occurred over those 7 hours was such an amazing natural experience. Was it painful? Yes. At times did I think I wouldn’t be able to do it? Yep. 

But what amazes me the most is how the body has the ability to adapt so well. When I went from one stage of labor to the next the pain and discomfort of the previous stage was forgotten. And when it was all over and I had my beautiful baby in my arms even though I was exhausted and sore I had forgotten all the pain of the past 7 hours already. 

I know that most OBs and even midwives who work with hospitals and birthing centers never would have given me the chance to have my VBAC. I would have been told around 40 weeks I had another large baby and would be having a repeat c-section. I am so thankful to have found an amazing midwife who knew I could do it! I know reading the VBAC success stories when I was pregnant helped me stay positive and I can only hope that someone out there reads mine and says “wow, I can do this!”