A little history and a gentle warning: My husband was previously married for 29 years to a woman who was not able to have children. She died of cancer in 1999. My husband and I were married in December of 2000. He wanted to have a child and so with determination and over 9 months of trying, I conceived in August of 2001. I had been charting for over a year and I knew I was pregnant before the pregnancy test could detect the trace of hormone. My husband was finally going to be a father at the age of 55.
This blog entry contains explicit descriptions of my labor and birth as well as personal information that some might consider TMI. I'll include a few pictures (nothing graphic because I have smudged anything that is a private part as well as faces of my MW and any of her assistants to protect them) but consider yourself warned of content and topic.
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The pregnancy was as close to a fantasy as any pregnancy could ever be. I felt like a million bucks the entire time and didn't miss the horrible hyperemisis that I suffered with the two pregnancies previously. Could I possibly be having a boy? Was it just genes (different father)? Was it because I was happy for the first time in my life? My sex drive was through the roof and my newlywed husband tried to accommodate my *needs* as best he could. Working from home has its advantages :) And so does sleeping with the boss.
The pregnancy was my third, his first. Viewing the experiences and the changes in my body through his eyes was such a blessing to me. It helped me to focus on things that I might have taken for granted. With him, I was able to appreciate the journey to birth. We took a lot of pictures to capture the experience. This following is a 26 week belly shot. (yep, I used to be blond)
My husband and I chose to plan a homebirth, confident in our choice of caregivers and the power of birth. My weight gain was less than 25 pounds, I was healthy, blood levels looked great, baby was in a great position and we were just waiting on mother nature (and my uterus).
I had measured way ahead during the whole pregnancy and even consented to an ultrasound in January to rule out a twin pregnancy. It was during this ultrasound that I learned that we were going to have a son. This boy would be the first boy in my side of the family in 17 children born over the past 75 years. We were thrilled.
My due date came and went, which was not a surprise considering that I was 21 days overdue with M and was induced with A after 10 days. I'm a 10 month moma and my babies need more time to cook. I felt wonderful up until about a week after my due date. I think (in hindsight) that because the pregnancy had been so different from my previous pregnancies that perhaps I had expectations that I might deliver closer to my due date. My expectations were not to be met on that one.
A week after the due date, I went for a prenatal visit. At this visit I was 2cm dilated and 50% effaced. I was already a week past the due date and becoming exasperated with being pregnant. All women experience this and I knew it but I remember sitting in the office of the MW and just breaking into sobs with the declaration that I just didn't want to be pregnant anymore. I had been horribly constipated for over a month and by then and it had been already 5 days since my last bowel movement. That in and of itself is enough to make anyone feel horrible.
With the consent and encouragement of the MW and her assistant, we agreed that I'd try some castor oil the next morning (as much to move my bowels as to stimulate labor) and then follow it with some black and blue cohoshes throughout the day.
During the day on May 21st, I had sporadic contractions. About 3:15, I lost some of my plug and became more and more encouraged as the contractions began to take on some regularity and intensity. My bowels had in fact moved and God! , I felt better. When I went to bed that evening....to see if the contractions would die down or continue - they piddled out. Labor was not to be for me that day. I waited 3 days and repeated the castor oil to help myself have a bowel movement - and experienced the same results. I decided that the glass on my patio door needed cleaning so I set out to do just that. I could barely bend over because my belly was so huge and cumbesome.
After a week later - a week filled with rest and as many distractions as our friends and family could muster, as many orgasms as one 10 month pregnant woman can handle....and another week without a bowel movement, I tried the castor oil again the morning of Sunday, May 26th. By 3 pm, the contractions were regular and about 5 minutes apart. I was moving around and talking and laughing and I really didn't believe that I was in labor. My husband was a nervous wreck (with this being his first time) and insisted that we phone the MW. When they phoned the MW (I managed to hold them off until after 5:15), the contractions were about 3-4 minutes apart and lasting over a minute. She told my husband that she couldn't get there very quickly so she called for the assistant to come on out ahead of her. The assistant arrived about 7 pm and within an hour, the MW and other assistant had arrived. At 8 pm, I consented to a vaginal exam (known here on out as a VE) and I was only 3-4 cm dilated, 60% effaced and the baby was at a -2 station.....great progress they said - but I thought that was bullshit! I knew that this wasn't it. I was ticked at the attention and activity and it was not helping me.
My contractions continued on but by 10 pm, it seemed as though they were fading again. This was the same scenario that I had been experiencing for almost 3 weeks. This pattern of contractions that stop and go and sometimes wear you out are what is commonly called prodromal labor. The MW decided, and everyone agreed that the best course of action would be for everyone to go home and come back when things picked up again. A laboring woman who is "watched" feels stress and that works against the labor and release of hormones necessary to facilitate labor. Thank God - I could finally be alone without having to kick them out of my house.
By 11 pm, I had eaten a few scrambled eggs, had a good cry in the shower and apologized to my husband and doula friend (who came from TX to be with us for a few weeks before the birth while we waited for the birth to take place). Everyone tried to make me feel better and encouraged me to get some rest. Before I went off to bed, the doula performed a birth trick on me during one of my contractions that were piddling out again. This trick is described in Optimal Fetal Positioning and involves gently lifting the belly during a contraction to aid in the alignment of the baby so that it can press upon the cervix and aid in dilation. We laughed and I cried and tried to coax my body to do what it was supposed to be doing but up until that point seemed to be dedicated to resistance.
At 3:00 am, I awoke to what I thought was just remnants of the castor oil. I got up to go potty and realized that the sensations that I was feeling were contractions. Within 3 contractions (which were back to back) I realized that things were VERY different and I tried to make my way down the hall to the bedroom where the doula was sleeping. My thoughts were to get her up with me to keep me company and let my husband sleep in case this was another false alarm. Having him asleep would buy me more time and less scrutinizing.
I remember standing in the doorway to her bedroom and having her roll over in the bed and lift her head to my birth noises. I couldn't speak - just breathe. She was immediately awake and standing beside me. She asked to wake my husband and I shook my head yes. When he came into the den, he found me on my hands and knees backwards on the loveseat rocking back and forth. Having no previous exposure to birth except seeing a few videos and the melodramatic lunacy that is called TV - he didn't quite know what to expect. He wanted to call the MW right away and I just shook my head in agreement. Labor was truly underway and it was quick and it was fast and it was intense. It was very intense.
The doula and my hubby begin to set up the birth pool (a kiddie pool that we had gotten from the MW) and I got in. It took less than 10 minutes to set up and fill because we had practiced the previous week and my husband knew how to do it quick. Ahhh.....I can't even begin to describe to you how it immediately took the pain of the contractions away. I was laboring beautifully. My doula would later recount to me of how in awe she was of me as I moaned and moved in the tub with the contractions. I kept my sounds low and loose and kept remembering the saying that I always tell my moms - 'loose lips = loose cervix'. I kept making horse sounds and managed to cope with all the contractions with relative ease. I was already in a place that natural birthers affectionately refer to as 'labor land' and I was now cooking with gas.
A little after 4 am, I began to feel grunty. I also began to feel nauseous. I vomited. This would have frightened and annoyed me before but I knew that one vomit was worth 5 contractions and I welcomed it. I also knew that it was a sign that I was more than halfway through and things were working wonderfully. I still was not feeling any "pain" but I was aware of the intensity of what was happening. When I vomited the 3rd or 4th time, hanging over the side of that pool, I felt my water release/break. I reached down to try and figure out what was touching the inside of my leg. It was trailing membranes and I just swept them away. I could see tiny bits of vernix and birth matter floating in the water but we knew to expect this and my doula just took a fish net and scooped the matter into the trash.
My hubby was getting a tad bit antsy because the MW was not there yet - and neither were any of the assistants. My contractions were increasing in length and strength and so was my husband's anxiety. He never got out of control - but he needed the doula's encouragement. She later told me that she knew he would do well because his nature is to nurture with gentleness and affection and he would be no different during the birth. He was doing great.
At 5:50 am the MW, her two assistants and the person who we had asked to videotape the birth all arrived with 2 or 3 minutes of each other. The team set about laying everything out on the coffee table and preparing for a birth. Once everything was set up and ready, she asked for permission to do a VE. I agreed and she found me to be 8cm and really stretchy. They recommended that I take a trip to the bathroom to empty my bladder and commented that the movement would do me good. I remember them encouraging this several times but I'd have to sit backwards on the toilet with my head resting on the back until the next contraction was over because I didn't have time to get to the other end of the house where the pool was before another contraction would wash over me. While in the bathroom for the second time, I began to have a bloody show and I knew that we were getting close. The MW and the assistant were checking fetal heart tones every 5 minutes and they were sounding perfect. There were good variables and excellent recoveries (heart tones slow down and speed up with different stages of contractions and that is normal)
I could not get back to that water quick enough. The contractions were all over me and they HURT while out of the water. Once back in the water - there was no pain....only intensity. Had I not experienced this phenomenon personally - I never would have believed the water to be the experience that it was.
By 6:15am or so, I felt myself becoming 'grunty' and mentally marked that as a sign that my body was pushing even without my helping it. The MW massaged my cervix through a few contractions. At some point, I think around 6 am, my husband had gone to wake up M so that she could be present for the birth. She was a bit scared and nervous but she was more excited that her new baby brother would soon be here. I don't remember any of this taking place because I was SO internal by this point that I was not aware of any of my surroundings or the people in the room. I just remember looking up at some point and seeing her sitting there beside the pool on that little stool.
At 6:30 am, I was 9cm and the baby had moved down to a station +3. I began to push a little to try it on for size and see how it felt. It felt great to push so with each contraction, I tightened down. Within 10 minutes, he had moved to a +4 station and I could feel the head with my hand. This is perhaps the most incredible feeling that I've ever experienced in my life - - feeling my baby moving down and being able to feel his body within me....from the inside as well as from the outside. It was very motivating to me to feel him from both sides. I pushed harder. There was never any shouting, any cheer leading counting or chanting "push!Push!Push!" crap that is so common on TV and in hospital delivery rooms. I kept touching his slimy and mushy head and I could feel the occipital points and how his head was molding to my birth canal.
All during the pregnancy, I had been visualizing what I wanted the birth to be like. I'd developed it into the time of day, room, those present, details and more details. I wanted my baby to be born as the sun came over the mountain - so that meant that it would need to be in the early part of the day.
Before I began pushing, my doulafriend had been on her knees pouring warm water over my back and belly. I remember her whispering to me, "Look out the window....everything you've been visualizing and wanting and preparing for is about to happen....the sun is coming across the mountain." I felt a deep sense of satisfaction and gratitude.
I had only been pushing for 22 minutes when I felt that immediate ring of fire and announced to the room that "he's coming." I was still in the warm pool of water on one knee (imagine a person proposing on one knee). The MW placed her hands on mine and supported his head as it slipped over the perineum. God! What a relief. I was pushing with every bit of energy that I could find and giving it all I had. I could feel his head between my legs and there was excitement in the room as we all held our breath waiting for his body to rotate so the shoulders could be born.
A few seconds went by and nothing happened.
A few more seconds went by and still nothing happened.
The MW told me to "Push, push your baby out" in a stern but not panicky voice. I said back to her, "I AM pushing but nothing is happening" so she instructed me to stop, she stuck her hand up around his neck into my vagina and felt around.
All of this was done by touch because my bottom was still in the water. She announced "we've got a nuchal arm, let me get my pinky around it to free it" and she did and within 2 seconds - my baby whooshed into the water into my hands. For those who don't know what a nuchal arm it - his arm was bent at the elbow with his hand trying to get under his chin so his elbow was preventing him from rotating so that his body could be born. Once she freed the arm - his body lunged out of me.
I moved my leg over his body and leaned back against the side of the pool. I pulled him up to my chest and they covered him with a towel. I sat back right into my husbands arms and was covered by his tears.
He was born into our lives at 6:55 am on the morning of May 27th, 2002. I looked out the window and there was the bright sun, leaving its signature upon the mountain. I can still hold that image in my mind and go there at my mind and soul's request.
Everyone in the room was crying. Tears of joy were free flowing. One amazing journey coming to an end and another beginning, all at the same time. The MW assistant was scooping warm water from the tub and gently pouring it over the towel that was covering our baby's body. I looked between his legs to confirm that in fact it was a boy and it was. That genitalia looked so different than what I was accustomed to but I promised myself that I'd get used to seeing something different.
I asked for the phone so that I could phone A who was still living in south Georgia with her father. That call was placed at 7:05 am on Memorial Day. I was overcome with emotion and the adrenaline was surging through my veins. Less than 5 hours ago, my body got down to business. Once things got going, there was no time to waste. Our family had been born. My husband was finally a father.....experiencing the miracle that he had been waiting his whole life for and thought that he'd never have.
The MW asked for permission to clamp the cord. Only 9 minutes had gone by and normally, we would have waited for the cord to completely stop pulsing before cutting it (no matter how long that took) but she wanted to take a blood sample from the cord for typing so that we'd know the Rh factor. If the baby's blood was Rh negative, then there was nothing to do, if his blood was Rh positive, then I'd elected to have a Rhogam shot administered 24 hours post partum. By testing the blood from the cord, our baby would be spared having his heel pricked and bled. Since one of the reasons that we'd chosen homebirth was to avoid procedures and treatments that we considered not necessary (one being heel pricks and sugar testing), we elected to have the cord clamped at that time.
Within another minute or two, I felt another contraction and knew that the placenta was on its way. The next contraction expelled it into a pan held between my legs. I stepped out of the tub, they wrapped me into a warm towel from the dryer and I walked to the other end of my house and stepped into a warm waiting shower. I washed my hair and body and then they dried me off, I put on my new blue nightgown and slipped into bed where I nursed my son.
We called a few more friends to announce his arrival and the generic question that everyone wanted an answer to was "How much does he weigh?" We had not weighed him yet and so the assistant began her newborn exam. Everything checked out perfectly - he was just really big. We entertained the guesses to his weight and length and had a few giggles and I recalled a Canadian friend of mine who had projected that would weigh 11 pounds. I almost shot her when she entered that in our baby pool two weeks earlier.
I watched the assistant's face....then listened as she exclaimed, "Oh My God. Would you look at this." The MW looked at the scale and then looked at me and raised her eyebrow....and said, "I wouldn't have guessed him to be that big but that boy of yours weighs 11 pounds." I just kind of fell back against the pillow....and then I began to laugh. My first thoughts were, "Damn! I just pushed an 11 pound baby out of my body and that stupid doctor from my cesarean told me that my pelvis was too small for an 8 pound baby....what the hell did he know?"
He was 11 pounds, and twenty three inches long. His head circumference was over 15 inches. He nursed with vigor from the start. When his nuchal arm was released, and he shot out of there so quickly, I tore a little bit and elected to receive a few stitches to my second degree tear. While I got my bottom stitched, I watched as my husband sat holding his son and listened to him telling him about how much his daddy loved his mommy and how long he had waiting to become a daddy. It was truly touching the depths of my soul. All was well.
My parents arrived a few hours later and my sister a little while after that. I rested in the bed for a while as everyone waited on me hand and foot. I received phone calls and congratulations. I was as high as a kite and I loved it.
Our birth was gentle and perfect in the way that best suited our family. Homebirth is not for everyone but I am glad that it was an informed choice that we could make for our situation. I have serious doubts as to whether I'd have been able to birth an eleven pound baby flat of my back with legs spread eagle in a hospital. They'd have not practiced that patience and trust that my MW had.
I will always cherish the perfection that this pregnancy and birth held for me. It is the pinacle for which all my other births are measured. I wish that the postpartum period and nursing relationship had been as good as the pregnancy and birth - but you can't have everything, right?
Anyhow, today my son turns 3 years old. Three years ago today, I was birthing my baby at home in the water. I know that this experience changed me forever.
It is with a heart full of love and gratitude and wonderful memories that I celebrate today - and share those memories with you. I've created this post a week or so in advance of the publishing date because I know that I'll be busy with graduation activities and not able to do it then.
Happy Birthday Joseph. I love you.
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