birth story part iii // the birth

birth story part i and part ii

As evening came, my contractions and discomfort continued. My hope for a before-midnight birth was fading with each passing hour, but it was becoming clear to me that this was the night. Of course, there were some hiccups, like how every person we had previously spoken with about coming to sit at the house while we went to have a baby was unavailable that night. Good times! We called someone new, who was also not available, but she made some phone calls in our behalf, and eventually a kind soul was found who came to stay on our couch. We weren't sure when to have her come, as we didn't know when we'd be leaving, but to save the stress of more phone calls we had her come over at 9. Looking back, I feel like, once the sitter had arrived, I was able to relax more fully, allowing for things to really started moving along.

At one point I began to feel the panic I had felt during my “false alarm” on the 21^st. Since then, I had written down some affirmations and scriptures to help with my anxiety, and I had to really focus on those positive words to calm myself. I worked hard to accept what was happening and remind myself that I could do it. The amazing thing was, it worked. I felt calm, I didn't want to do it, but I wouldn't let myself say that. I kept reciting those positive sayings in my mind. I can do this. My body knows what to do. It was a very conscious process to keep the negative thoughts at bay.

I'd been in bed nearly all afternoon and evening. After getting the kids to bed and getting the sitter situated, Mr. Boss came in and joined me. I was playing soft music on my phone, to help with bringing calming feelings, so I could try to rest a bit. Mr. Boss was in and out of sleep, waking on occasion to rub my back through a contraction. I couldn't seem to decide if I was hot or cold. I'd pull on a blanket, then push it off, then be shivering and pull on a cardigan, only to start sweating. And then came the point where I was too uncomfortable to lay down any longer. I startled Mr. Boss awake as I moved to kneel beside the bed, pulling my pillow closer to rest my head. I was so tired.

As the contractions would come, I would focus on my breathing and try to let my body do what it needed, but it was hurting. I asked Mr. Boss if he would offer some counter-pressure on my hips/lower back, instead of continuing to rub my back. This was a definite sign that things were moving along.

Around 11:30, I called the midwife. Things were really starting to pick up, and all I could think about was how I didn't want to feel totally miserable on the drive in, and how I really wanted to get in the tub. She asked about my contractions, and I told her how they'd been going up to that point. I was upset when she said it was still too soon, and reminded me that they want to see contractions that are 4-5 minutes apart and lasting more than a minute. We hung up, and I worked to keep up with the encouraging self-talk. I also continued tracking my contractions, but I wasn't really paying attention to how frequently they were coming. I was too busy trying to breathe through them as they came.

It was Mr. Boss who suggested we call back. I scanned the tracker and told him I thought she'd say it was still too soon, and reminded him about what the midwife had told me. He insisted we call anyway and, when I wouldn't, he did. When he hung up, he told me the midwife asked us to wait another 20 minutes, but then we could come in. Mr. Boss ran around gathering up the things we had planned to take with us and then helped me out to the van. And then he ran back inside for my blanket because it was too cold.

On our way!

The drive in, surprisingly, wasn't bad, except when a contraction would come. It's hard not to be able to move around, but I found that pushing my lower back into the seat provided some counter pressure that made the contractions a bit more bearable. In between them I was still talking and joking, admiring the quiet night, and appreciating the minimal midnight traffic that was so different from our experiences in Denver – because, even in that moment, I was noticing the stark differences between big city and small town, haha. But I loved it. The night was still and quiet, and I appreciated the lack of traffic. We made good time. And I only asked Mr. Boss to run one red light, because I really wanted to be in the tub.

I could see that there were lights on as we pulled up to the birth center, and I felt this spark of excitement knowing that those lights were on because my baby was coming!

My labor had definitely advanced from what it was when we left the house. Contractions were frequent and strong, and I had mentally turned inward as I focused on working through them. 

I was greeted by friendly faces as I walked in the door, almost like a hero's welcome, this was finally happening. I stopped a couple of times on the way to the birthing suite, as a contraction would roll through. “Just get to the tub” kept running through my mind. Which is why I was disappointed to see the tub was empty when I walked in the room. They wanted to check baby's heartbeat for a moment once I'd arrived, then they started filling the tub and I set to getting undressed, pausing here and there for a contraction.

The moment I stepped into the tub was glorious. I had made it! In that moment, I was so focused on the work my body was doing and yet managed to be aware of things in a sort of out-of-body way. I was already feeling pretty worn out by then. I had this moment when the thought, or the memory, came to my mind, of being at about the same point during my last labor, and telling Mr. Boss things like “I can't do this!” and “I don't want to do this!” For a split second, my thought was that I could easily say those things right then, but I stopped myself. “No, I can do this! My body was made to do this! My body knows what to do, I know what to do, and I can do it!”

In my labors, I'm learning that I can tell where I'm at in labor, depending on the sounds I'm making, or not making. Early on I'm fine, and have the ability to talk through contractions, but choose not to, preferring to work on focusing my breathing. Then there comes the point where all I can do is breath through them, this is also the time when back or arm tickles are very beneficial. From there I move from needed back tickles to counter-pressure, and I begin humming as I exhale during the contractions. Up to that point, I'm pretty quiet. As I progress further, my humming turns into moaning, which is quite a bit louder. Finally, as I push, there is a mixture of moaning, yelling, and complete silence.

It felt like it was only a few minutes after stepping into the tub that I moved from humming to moaning. In some ways it felt like things were taking too long, I really just wanted to be done, but at the same time, I could tell that things were progressing. I hoped it would't be much longer.

The birth center offers the use of nitrous to help with pain management during the later stages of labor. I'd been debating whether to try it or not in the weeks leading up to the birth. I hadn't made a final decision, but as soon as they asked, I decided to try it out. One of the midwives brought the machine in, and explained how to use it. I was leaning over the edge of the tub, one hand resting, one hand holding the mask, and Mr. Boss sitting in a chair beside me, ready to pass me a drink when I needed it. As a contraction would come, I would put the mask to my face and breath as I'd been instructed before pulling it away, and breathing through the rest of the contraction as normal. At first they said that it could be up to an hour before I noticed any relief from the contraction, and later told me it was also basically a placebo. Either way, I didn't really feel like it made a difference for me. After maybe 10 rounds, I stopped using it all together.

I was reaching the point when breathing is not enough, when moaning is not enough. So, I started to bear down as I'd exhale. It's all pretty uncomfortable by then, but there was a sense of relief as I focused my breath into early pushing. After a few contractions like that, the pushing started to be more intense and almost involuntary, as my body began to really take over. I didn't say anything, just quietly did my thing. I kept feeling like I had to be making great progress, but as I'd reach down to check for the top of baby's head, there was nothing. There was another moment of discouragement, but I pushed it aside with another positive line.

The midwife had been in and out, from what I could tell, with my eyes being closed most of the time. Every now and then I'd hear her offering words of encouragement and support, which I really appreciated. And then she noticed that I appeared to be pushing and asked as much. I weakly responded that I was. I might have mentioned that it felt better that way, I'm not sure. Either way, it was clear that the end was very near. The water in the tub had cooled a bit by then, so they emptied some of the old water out and ran more warm water in preparation for the final moments.

As my pushing became more intense and more involuntary, my midwife asked if she could do a quick internal check. I was in a sort of squatted position at the edge of the tub (in the exact position I'd envisioned being in when I thought about how I wanted this birth to go), she said I wouldn't have to move much, so I told her that would be fine. She came over and reached in to check, only to tell me that I wasn't quite fully open.

My first thought was “that can't be right”, though I didn't vocalize it. Pushing felt entirely involuntary by then, but suddenly the midwife was saying I needed to try to stop pushing. “Not on your life”, I thought. Then she gave another option, that she could hold back the last little bit of cervix for me. “Yes, that last one,” I weakly mumbled to her as another contraction began.

This was it. I pushed and pushed, I was feeling this sense of urgency to get it over with, I wanted the pain to stop, and I wanted my baby here. And then I could feel the top of her head, and I could feel her hair. She was so close, and that only made me work harder.

Crowning is such an intense feeling, and it feels as though it takes forever. There is so much effort to stay focused by then, and it is also then that I am the loudest. It hurts. After it feels like I must have gotten the baby out at least three times, the head is finally born. That pain was still so intense, but there was a brief break before the final push, then the strange and glorious sensation of the rest of the baby emerging, and the sweet relief of knowing that I had done it. Finally! I reached down to grab her tiny body, to pull her to my chest and gingerly changed to a reclined position in the tub. I rubbed her back and side as we waited for her first cries.

After so much waiting, she was finally here. Girl number 2, baby number 6. Born October 1^st at 2:40 am. Totally and completely worth the wait.

*****

First car ride, headed home!

Something I really appreciate about the birth center is that they don't keep you for very long. We arrived home shortly before 7 am, just as the children were all waking up and wondering where mom and dad were, and who this person on the couch was. There were all of these excited faces looking out the window as we pulled up and they were all there, watching in awe, as I carried this tiny, new person into our home. Sweet Eleanor had her eyes locked on her new sister as we walked through the door, with a glimmer of tears in her eyes. It was this magical moment when her dreams had finally come true in the form of a baby sister.

Proud first-time big brother. He's loved her so much, right from the start.

My girls!!

birth story part ii // coaxing labor

(In case you missed the first part of my birth story, or want a refresh, click here.)

The truth was, I was glad baby girl hadn't come, as it was my sister's birthday. But it also meant that baby girl only had one more day to show up before the month was over.

I had another visit with the midwives that day, where the plan was to try again for a sweep. I was so nervous that I would go in only to learn I still wasn't dilated, but I was! Only just enough for a little sweep, but it was encouraging nonetheless, this was progress! Things were happening!

Along with the little sweep, I was sent home with a tincture called “Labor Boost” and instructions on how to take it. We also set up a time for me to come in the next morning, pending baby, for another sweep. The plan was to do a sweep every day until either baby arrived or we passed the 42 week deadline and I was sent to the hospital to be induced.

That night I went out for a little girls night. As I drove home later, I noticed that a bit of fog had rolled in, giving the night a crisp, autumn night coziness. It seemed like the kind of adverse weather condition that babies enjoy coming in. I couldn't help as my mind began to envision driving in the dead of night, through the fog, to the birth center. The next morning was “doughnuts with mom” at the kid's school, and I was bummed at the prospect of missing it, but figured it would be okay if it meant I had a baby in my arms.

I woke several times that night to pee, but there were no contractions. When I woke to the light of morning, my hope was not gone. I mean, I was a little bummed, yes, but at least I'd get a doughnut or two. Definitely two.

The fog that morning was so thick, there were areas where there was maybe 5 feet of visibility. It was stunning, though. The thrill of the beauty of the fog quickly faded as I walked into the school to looks of pity from the many familiar faces I saw, and nearly burst into tears as one woman asked, full of surprise, “Still no baby?” I tried to keep it together when I said hi to the mom who'd been due the same day as me, sitting at a table with her precious, nearly two week old baby boy. Then I snagged what seems to have been the very last chocolate iced doughnut, before one of my children could take it. Because, in that moment, I needed the chocolate.

As I drove home through the fog that was beginning to clear, I tried to focus on the beauty of the sight I was getting to see and photograph, thanks to the tardiness of my little girl, instead of the discouragement I was again feeling.

A few hours later, I was back at the birth center. More progress had been made, which meant a more vigorous sweep was possible. The two little boys were so full of energy that morning, it would have been good for them if I'd taken them to a park, but I was so uncomfortable afterward. The thought of going to a park was completely intimidating and undesirable. Instead, as we drove, my eyes were drawn to the trees filled with vibrantly colored leaves against the now completely clear blue sky. Whether on her own or due to an induction, baby girl was coming soon, I might not get another chance like this to get pictures of the autumn leaves (which, if you know me, you understand that this realization was very important.) So I drove around town, stopping to pull out my camera here and there, when I saw a sight so beautiful I just couldn't pass it by. It wasn't long, though, before my discomfort was too great and I had to head for home.

Once home, I got the little boys settled in with a movie, and then I went to bed. It was a Friday, a short day, so the big kids were home soon after. It made resting a bit more difficult, but I was too uncomfortable to do much else. I started tracking contractions at about 1 pm, but wasn't really paying attention to their frequency. The discomfort carried through the afternoon and into evening, but when I noticed the colors in the sky as the sun was setting I couldn’t resist, and managed to hobble myself out there for a moment, to capture the sunset. 

The last sunset before baby girl

I wasn't sure yet, if it was the beginning, but couldn't help hoping that it was, and that – somehow – baby girl would come before midnight.

The very last pregnancy photos, taken by my 9 year old.

(Part iii) 

birth story part i // the false alarm

I feel like my story really starts on September 21, at about 3 am. My hope had been to carry at least until the first official day of autumn, the 22^nd. That would put me 4 days after my “due” date, which I was perfectly fine with, and then my two girls would have autumn birthdays, keeping them separate from the boys' who all have summer birthdays. Maybe it was a silly thing to hope for, but it's what I hoped for nonetheless. Along with that hope, I was still dealing with a lot of fear in regard to the upcoming birth. I'd been trying to work through my fears for the better part of the pregnancy, and I thought I'd made some really great progress, but I was about to learn that I still had a lot more work to do.

I woke up at 3 am on the 21^st and couldn't get back to sleep due to an aching discomfort in my stomach. I tried to rest, I tried to get comfortable, but I couldn't. That, along with some other labor-like signs, had me pretty convinced that this was it and I panicked. I tried to track the contractions as they came. I tried to calm myself. I tried to talk myself into being okay with baby girl coming before the first official day of autumn. But mostly I panicked and prayed hard that I would be able to get some rest, and that this was not the night. Finally contractions seemed to slow, and I fell back to sleep. I woke in the morning pleased to have my baby still on the inside and totally shaken by the events of the night before.

timing "contractions" and the gorgeous sky on my way to my appointment the next morning

Later that day I had my 40 week visit with the midwives, where I told them about my 3 am experience, and then burst into tears, because fear still had such a deep hold on me. Talking with them helped me feel a bit better, and I was given more ideas to try and work through the fears that had revealed themselves in the little time I had left before baby girl would decide to come. The midwife also offered to check my cervix, and do a membrane sweep, if I wanted. I was in such a weird place, between fear of giving birth and wanting to be on the other side of birth, between curiosity towards my progress and the fear of doing anything to inspire labor. I couldn't decide. At that point, due to the events of the night before, we all thought it was only a matter of time before the real show would start, anyway. But I was told that, if I at any point changed my mind, I could call and they'd get me in for a sweep.

At the end of that visit, we scheduled a 41 week non-stress test (NST), and an ultrasound to check amniotic fluid levels and make sure everything was looking good. I plugged the appointments into my phone, feeling so sure that I'd have a baby before that. What followed were mornings where I would wake with no baby in my arms, and days where it seemed like my body had stopped trying to have a baby altogether. Braxton Hicks contractions, which I'd been having regularly for weeks, had all but stopped. Contractions weren't even happening when Noah would nurse, where before that had been a guaranteed way to inspire a good few. I began to feel so frustrated and discouraged.

Normally I'm totally okay with going past my “due date”, but even the fear-filled side of me was feeling frustrated and discouraged by what appeared to be a complete lack of impending labor signs. I kept thinking back to how anxious I was before going in to labor with Noah, but how, once labor had started and my body took over, there was no more room in my body or mind for panic. I kept thinking, if I could just get to the point of labor and delivery, that I would be free of my anxieties.

the NST

The day of the NST came, still no baby. The next day I had the ultrasound (where fluid levels were perfect). But the month was running out and I was stressing. I began crossing my fingers for the 28^th, and decided that, if baby girl hadn't arrived by the 27^th, that I would go in to have my membranes stripped. Of course, I woke up that morning, just as pregnant as the night before. Summoning all of the bravery inside of myself, I called the birth center and scheduled to come in for a sweep. I was shaking as I hung up and immediately burst into tears. I wanted to get this thing over with, but I was still so terrified.

When I got to the birth center, I was taken back into the birthing suite, where the midwife first talked with me about how I was doing, and if I really wanted to do this. I told her I was still so full of fear, but there were new fears regarding not doing anything as well. Fears like not having the baby in September – thus ruining a birthday pattern I'd been so excited about – fears of not having the baby before 42 weeks and losing the opportunity to give birth at the birth center, fears of having to go to the hospital for an induction. I wasn't thrilled at the prospect of a membrane sweep, but I was feeling like it was the only way to get baby girl here. During this meeting, I was also texting Mr. Boss, telling him just how scared I was feeling, and he offered to take a long lunch to come sit with me. I told the midwife, and she kindly waited until he'd arrived before we got started with the unpleasantness of the cervical exam and membrane sweep. As we walked out of the birth center a short time later, my feelings of discouragement were at an all time high. I felt sure that this baby was never coming. There had been no membrane sweep, it wasn't possible because, at 41 weeks and 2 days, I wasn't dilated at all, and was only 50% effaced.

After that discouraging visit, all I could think about was how a friend from church had told me about her magical, baby-bringing foot massage that, so far, had brought 3 babies earth-side within 24 hours. As soon as I was home, I shot her a text asking if she was interested in a challenge. Full of sympathies, she told me she'd stop by the next day.

As my friend massaged my feet and pressure points in my ankles the next afternoon, she told me about the other times she'd done these massages. The first time, the baby's arrival had been a surprise, unintended, an accident. She was just trying to pamper the mama who ended up with a 36-week birth. It was later that she looked up the specific pressure points that are said to bring on labor. Then she told me that, on me, those areas were super tight, like knots. In that moment I pictured myself as this tightly wound ball of fear, as I decided/realized that I'd done this to myself. Still, I couldn't help but hope that it would inspire my body to get to work. But the next morning came, same as every one before it, with baby girl still cozy inside.

(Part ii)

birth story pt. 3

part i

part ii

Nedra and Gina had returned, we sat around, chatting for a bit, and kept track of how frequently my contractions were coming. I had to let them know when they started and stopped, because I was so quiet that they couldn't tell. After a few spread out contractions, they decided we'd try something else. Back in my bedroom, Nedra checked to see if I'd made any progress throughout the day. But I was still holding at 3cm. I was really upset about that, but she said not to worry about it. She said that my cervix was nice and stretchy, and that she could manually dilate me. Gina poured some olive oil on my belly and began rubbing in clockwise circles, to bring on contractions, and when they would come, Nedra would stretch my cervix open. Within a fairly short period of time, using this method, she took me from that depressing 3cm to 7cm! I was amazed. Once she had me at 7, she broke my water. Finally, there was the full on gush.
While we were in my room, Boss was busy putting the children to bed and getting the pool, which I had finished inflating during the day, filled for me, even though I wasn't allowed to get in yet. I stood and walked around, I sat and I spent time in the bathroom, forever waiting for contractions to really kick in. Boss, exhausted from so little sleep, left us to take a nap.
Near 11 pm I was given the go ahead to get into the pool. The water felt nice, but I couldn't seem to find a comfortable position. Finally I rested my head on one edge and let myself drift into a half-sleep. I had only two or three contractions during my short time in the pool. Nedra eventually informed me that we were going to have to take some more drastic measures to get this baby out. We had already passed the 24 hour mark since my water had started leaking, so it was time. She checked me quickly before I got out of the pool, and I hadn't budged from the 7cm that she had gotten me to earlier, and baby's head was still pretty high. But she mentioned, again, how stretchy my cervix was, and that she had a plan to finish this whole party fairly quickly. Her plan, she said, would be extremely difficult, and it would hurt a lot, but she felt like it was the best option for me. But first, she wanted me to try to stimulate some really good contractions, to help bring baby down a bit.
Once again, I was in the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and began to push on my belly, trying to copy the motion Gina had used on me to inspire contractions while I was manually dilated. I stopped when one came on and would breathe through it, and then would immediately resume pressing on my belly once it passed. When sitting on the toilet became uncomfortable, I stood and continued pressing on my belly, stopping only when a contraction came on. By the time I emerged from the bathroom, my contractions were coming more frequently, and on their own.
I went back into the living room where I had several more good, strong, hard contractions. Nedra cheered me on. Once they passed, she tried to explain her plan. All I could think of was how delightful an epidural sounded, and I told her so. But I also knew that going to the hospital would be worse for me than staying home. (Just thinking about driving to the hospital, getting all checked in, waiting for however long to get the epidural, figuring I'd be given pitocin, and on top of it all not knowing what would we do with our children, was enough to turn me off of that idea.)
I was tired, frustrated, upset, hurting, and basically ready to quit. But I couldn't quit. We would follow Nedra's plan. First we had to wake Mr. Boss, because we needed the bed. Gina and Mr. Boss prepared the bed for birthing, a shower curtain was laid under our blanket, and chux pads covered the area where I would be laying. Once it was ready, I made my way in. Contractions were still regular and hard. At first I wanted to be leaning over pillows, because the thought of laying down seemed like torture, but Nedra explained that it would probably be a better position to help us accomplish our goal, so I turned. Then came the hard part.
Nedra's plan was to hold up my stretchy cervix during a contraction, and my job was to push past the excruciating pain that it caused. If I pushed hard enough, I would be able to get baby past my cervix and quickly delivered. But when my contraction came, I couldn't do it. The pain was unbearable. All I wanted to do was crawl away from her hand, except I couldn't move. My whole body was shaking violently, but I was paralyzed in pain, I couldn't escape. I didn't want to have to do that ever again, I didn't want to do any of it anymore.
Without removing her hand, my midwife consented to giving me a little break. I used the next few contractions to try, in my own way, to move baby down. Mr. Boss was by my side, holding my hand. He was there as I worked through those contractions. I would lean my cheek against his head as the pain intensified, and his presence made it bearable. When I asked, he would cover my chest with a blanket, to ease my shaking, and he was there to take it away when I got too hot. He was there to offer me sips of Gatorade. He was there.
Nedra was impressed and pleased with the progress I made during those few contractions, but she explained that the only way to get baby past my cervix was for her to hold it back, while I pushed with all of my might. I didn't want to, oh, I really did not want to do that again. But when I had another contraction, she started. And so did I.
The pain was horrible, Nedra and Gina were telling me that I had to do it, that I could do it. So I pushed. I pushed and I cried and I hurt and I shook. I rested my cheek on my Mr. Boss and I forced it until, suddenly, I didn't have to force it anymore. Suddenly my body took over. Finally my body took over, and from there it was all instinctual, uncontrollable.
I could feel my baby moving downward, it seemed both slow and quick, as baby got closer to emerging. They told me to slow down, but I couldn't. Nedra told me to reach down, to feel the top of my baby's head. To focus, to ease baby out slowly. But I couldn't stop, I couldn't help it. I kept going, I pushed, it hurt. I cried out in pain, but I still couldn't stop. I felt the ring of fire, and Nedra instructed me, once more, to slow down. But there was no stopping me, there was no stopping baby.
The head was out, again they told me to stop. But it was no use, because my tiny baby slipped right out. I opened my eyes as my baby was lifted up and that's when I saw it, I saw him. I didn't need Mr. Boss, with his bright, excited eyes, enthusiastically telling me (“It's a boy! Oh, thank you! It's a boy! I love you! A boy!”), because I already knew.
And then he was on my chest. I was still hurting, and here was this boy. But I was sure, sure, that we were having a girl. All I could think was that he wasn't the baby I was expecting. I felt shocked, confused, and a bit disappointed. And then I was angry with myself for not being completely over the moon that I had a brand new baby on my chest, after all of my longing and waiting.
There he was, blue, but alert, just looking at me. And then I was done for. His trusting little eyes looked at me, and I was in love. I still had a faint feeling of disappointment, but I was head over heels in love.

I lay there, against a pile of pillows, with this tiny boy on my chest. I delivered the placenta, was checked for tearing (none!) and then was given an ice pack and some ibuprofen to ease the soreness in my bottom. My little boy just blinked and looked around, and I looked at him, and finally I kissed him. And I thought about how upset C and E would be when we told them that Cupcake was not the sister they thought he was, but that he was actually a brother.

Nedra and Gina busily attended to the emptying of the barely used pool, and got everything cleaned up, while I got to know my newest boy. I watched my blue baby wiggle and squirm and turn pink. I held him to my chest and let him nurse for the first time. After a bit, Nedra and Gina came back. Gina placed a clamp on the cord and I cut it, after which it was time for the newborn exam.
Tiny boy had a big head, and a narrow body (which explained his quick exit). His reflexes were great. Then came the weight check. Finally able to get a really good look at him, I guessed he was somewhere in the 7lb range. Sure enough, my little guy weighed in at 7lbs 10oz. A mere 1oz off from being exactly 2lbs smaller than Z was.

baby boy, during his newborn exam

Mr. Boss was able, then, to hold his new son. I was instructed to use the bathroom. Once I'd finished I made my way to the couch. My stomach felt dizzy as I walked, but was fine once I was sitting. Boss set our tiny boy in my arms, and then he went to wake the children, who had slept through the whole birth, despite my noise-making, one by one.

The big kids were sleepy, but baby S was wide awake.

First was Z, sleep still heavy on his eyes. But he was happy to see his new baby. He gave us both kisses before he was taken back to bed. Then came E, also groggy. We told her that Cupcake was here. We told her he was a brother. Her disappointment was obvious. She clung to her papa, and refused to give me or baby a kiss. Lastly, C was brought out. He was also upset to learn that Cupcake was a brother, but he let me show him our baby before he returned to his bed.

It was near 2:30 am when I climbed into my own bed, tiny boy tucked into my arm, and fell asleep.

birth story pt. 2

part i

I woke up around 8:30 am, and noticed an hour old text from my midwife, Nedra, checking up on me. Throughout the night I had been so sure that I would have my baby by then, so was feeling impatient when I responded, asking for suggestions to get things moving. She called back to give me a few ideas. She said she could come by and check where I was at, and then break my water, thinking that a big gush would send my body the message to start contracting better than my little trickling was doing. She also suggested we could get a hold of another midwife who lives near us to get some Cottonroot extract from her, which is supposed to help get things moving. And lastly she suggested that I could hop in the shower for a half an hour or so, and see if some nipple stimulation would help. I talked with Mr. Boss about it, and we decided to have her come over and check on my progress, first.
When she arrived, we went into my bedroom where I was checked (3cm) and Nedra decided not to do the full water break, yet. She said that baby's head was too high, and that she likes to leave the water alone until mama is, at least, 7cm. Instead she swept my membranes and then sent me to the shower to do nipple stimulation, with the hope that it would be enough to get me started. After that she went to see the midwife near us, to pick up the Cottonroot extract.

The shower didn't seem to do anything. When I got out, I made myself some eggs and waited for my midwife to return. When she got back, she sent me back to the bathroom, to encourage some fluid to come out, so that we could test it to make sure it was, indeed, amniotic fluid. The test was very obviously positive, which was encouraging (we weren't trying to initiate labor for nothing). She then instructed me on how to use the extract, and suggested that if it didn't do anything in the next couple hours we should try a castor oil concoction. We both hoped the extract would do the trick, but she asked me to eat some pasta, just in case we ended up doing the oil. Then she left, to get herself some lunch.

Lunch time for the soon-to-be big brother, hand pump in hand. The pool, on it's side, is in the background.

Playing while waiting for their new baby sibling to arrive.

Every half hour I took some of the extract, as I was instructed, and let my midwife know when I finished my pasta, because she wanted to wait until 2 hours after that to administer the castor oil. I hoped and wished and prayed that my body would hurry up and get to work, so that I could avoid the castor oil all together. I've heard the horror stories, and didn't want to have to experience it for myself. But my body didn't seem to want to work. Contractions continued, but were sporadic and only mildly uncomfortable. I was so frustrated. Already this birth was so far from anything that I had hoped for or expected, and I was starting to feel very discouraged.

The sun hit the side of the pool and made this reflection. I thought it was so peaceful and lovely, the opposite of how I was feeling.

Around 4 pm, Nedra returned, this time with her assistant, Gina. She prepared my castor oil concoction (2 cups orange juice, 2 cups castor oil, ¼ tsp baking soda, I think) and apologized for giving it to me. She said that she tries to avoid it, but my situation (leaking water, labor that won't get started) was the sort that generally causes her to resort to this option. She expressed the hope that, once we got my body to a certain point, it would kick in and take over from memory. She also mentioned that my body was probably having a hard time getting started because I was early. Nedra and Gina left after I'd finished choking the castor oil down, with the instruction to let them know when it kicked in.
I tried to entertain myself while I waited, and then it happened. I learned for myself that castor oil is the devil. After that horrible experience, I continued to wait for contractions to set in. But my body still hadn't gotten the message. All the while my midwife was waiting for me to get a hold of her, to tell her that contractions were coming, but they just weren't. Nedra and Gina returned around 7 pm to find me, miserable and discouraged, with the same old, irregular, wimpy contractions that I'd been experiencing throughout the day.

part iii

birth story pt. 1

It began on Friday, September 7th. I woke up with an overwhelming need to clean. Everything. Now. I spent the day doing load after load of laundry (including the baby laundry that had been sitting in a box waiting for me.) I worked hard on the living room, getting it organized, and clearing surfaces. I got a little distracted and started on the unnecessary task of sorting through pictures. I sort of lost steam after getting sidetracked with that.
But, just before dinner time the desire and motivation to get the house clean returned with full force. There is no pleasant way to explain why, so I'll just say it returned after a little discovery during a trip to the restroom. It was at that time when I started to wonder if my feeling of an early baby was really and truly right, it was then that I realized baby could be coming soon.
I asked Mr. Boss to take over dinner prep, and I got to scrubbing my bathroom. I had cleaned it fairly recently, so the job didn't take as long, but I was still thorough. After that, I moved on to the children's room, wanting to have it finished before bedtime.
(Around this time, I heard the sound of water running, I went to the bathroom to check on it. There I found Z, standing on the toilet, water running from our sink faucet. The sink was full to overflowing, water spilled over onto the floor that I had just finished drying. It was awesome.)
We ate dinner, and then we sent the children to bed. I wasn't sure if/when labor was going to start, so I didn't mention to Mr. Boss that I thought it might be soon. Instead we put on a movie and I kept washing and folding laundry, determined to get everything done. I was folding clothes when I felt like I needed to pee. When I was done, I stood and turned to the sink to wash my hands, and that's when I felt it. A trickle. I quickly dropped my drawers, sat back down and waited. Nothing happened. So, I stood back up. Once again, I felt a small trickle. It didn't take me long to realize what was happening. My water was broken. It didn't come in a great, rushing gush, like I'd experienced with C, just a little bit of leaking. I was feeling a bit shocked, so it took me a moment, but I got smart, put on a pad, washed my hands, and came out of the bathroom. I went straight to my phone to text my midwife, Nedra. It was about 10:30 pm. As soon as the message sent, I figured it was time to fess up to my suspicious spouse. Our baby was coming.
I got the laundry I'd been folding put away, and abandoned the movie we were watching so that I could get the dishes done, clean off my stove top, and get my 39 week post put together and scheduled for the next morning. (Because these are the things you do when you realize your water has broken.) Mr. Boss asked if he should blow up the pool, but I told him not yet. I wasn't really having any contractions, and I didn't know how long it would take for them to start, so I figured we could wait.
By 1 am, I finally felt satisfied with the cleanliness of my house, so I went to bed, to get as much sleep as I could. I tossed and turned for a while. Maybe it was because I was excited and surprised, but I could not fall asleep. Eventually, I did fall into a light slumber, but was woken around 3:45 by what felt like pretty regular contractions. I was breathing through them, but they were a bit uncomfortable, so I decided to get up to find a better position. I thought that this was it, and figured that meant it was a good time to get the pool started. I woke Mr. Boss and asked him to get on that.
We both came out into the living room, I sat on the ball, he tried to get the pool started. Because we didn't have an electric pump, we had to do it by hand. We were told a bike pump would do the trick, but Boss realized that we'd need a needle attachment if it was going to work. The problem was, we didn't have one of those. So I pulled out the hand pump that came with my ball and had him try that. Still, he couldn't get any air into it. I asked if I could give it a try, and was able to get some air into the pool. Boss thought that would take too long. He decided to go against everything he believes in, and went to Walmart, because it was the only place he could think of that would have needles and be open at 4 am.
While he was gone I continued with the hand pump stopping here and there to breathe through a contraction. When Mr. Boss returned, he was impressed with the progress I had made on the pool, but ready to take over. The only problem was that, even with the needles, the bike pump was pretty useless. So the pool was blown up exclusively with the hand pump, each of us taking turns.
I had made pretty great progress with the pool, but since I'd gotten out of bed, it seemed like my contractions had tapered off. I continued sitting on the ball anyway. I hoped that contractions would pick up again. I waited until I felt dead tired, then I went back to bed. I felt bad leaving sleepy Mr. Boss to finish up the pool, but I was sure baby would arrive sometime that morning and wanted it to be ready.
He didn't finish, when he could do no more he fell asleep on the couch. And when the children woke up, bright and early as they always do, he got up with them and let me sleep.

part ii

a birth story

The birth story I've been meaning to share for a year...

June 14, 2010: C and I went to Babies'R'Us for some last minute purchases. I felt fine all day, but I couldn't help but wonder at how funny it would be if baby "porcupine" came sometime the next day, after I'd been out running errands the day before.

I started to feel a bit off as the afternoon eased into early evening. I wasn't in pain, or uncomfortable, but something felt different. I wondered...By the 9'o'clock hour I was still unsure, but I was more convinced than I had been a few hours prior. Even so, I didn't want to get my hopes up.

quiet night
June 14, 2010

I stayed up too late that night. As midnight approached I had a decision to make: take a shower, or hope that it was real, and try to get as much sleep as I could before the party started. I chose sleep.

June 15, 2010, approx. 3am: It is a good thing I chose sleep, because I woke up to use the bathroom and, well, I'll spare the details. But at that point, I knew it really was time. I didn't know how long it would be, though, so I didn't bother to wake Mr. Boss. Instead, I tried to go back to sleep.
I turned this way. I turned that way. Each uncomfortable surge pulled me away from sleep. That dance lasted, maybe, an hour. Oh, I see. This is happening now.
I woke Mr. Boss to let him know what was up. He immediately jumped up, asking if we needed to blow up the pool? if I have called the midwife? ...he was ready for action. Then he started to blow up the pool, anyway. Might as well have it ready, I guess. (And, can I just say, I love Mr. B's reaction when I tell him a baby is coming. Priceless!)
Instead of calling my midwife, I first texted my mom (she was working that night, so she was up) and asked for her expert opinion. (She did have 8 babies, after all.) All along, though, I knew I just needed to listen to my body.

Somewhere between 5-6am: I called my midwife to give her a heads up. She asked how I was feeling, and how quickly the contractions were coming, and how long they lasted. I told her, and she sounded unhurried by my response.
During my labor with E, contractions were coming similarly to the ones I was having when I decided it was time to go to the hospital (and she was born within an hour of arriving), and I explained this to her. Well, I tried to explain this to her, but I was kind of groggy and ready to get into the pool. She said she'd be about an hour.
Mr. Boss was being a busy little bee, and had the pool inflated and filled with enough warm water to suit my needs. (And he had more warming on the stove, since our water didn't stay warm enough to fill the pool.) I gingerly stripped, and climbed in. Oh! The water was wonderful! (Seriously, even if you don't ever do a home or water birth, at least labor for a bit in some water, it is amazing!)
I went for a squatting position, with my arms draped over, and my head resting on, the edge of the pool. This was when time really began to get away from me.
I could breathe through each contraction, and they became a bit more intense with each one. As soon as one would end, I would relax, and rest my head. I was so tired, so I would shut my eyes and begin to drift off to sleep...until another contraction began a couple of minutes later.
I believe it was around 6:30am when Mr. Boss called his mother. We had planned to have her take C and E for the birth, and for the day, to help make the day less crazy.
Vivian and Heather (midwife and midwife assistant) arrived around 7. Heather arrived first, then my mother-in-law, and then Vivian. Though I can't tell you how I know, because I was a little busy/distracted by then.
During one particular contraction, Vivian ran her hand down my spine, as a way to help me visualize and be aware of what my body was working towards, and the direction I needed to focus my attention on. That particular contraction? Didn't hurt one single bit. It was the most amazing contraction ever. (I only wish every other contraction could have been so wonderful.)The kids were still sleeping, so Mr. Boss and his mom sat in the living room for a bit. Mr. Boss really liked that he could leave my alone and know that I was taken care of (he doesn't trust the people at the hospital that much) and it helped things to be less overwhelming for him.
I continued to labor in the pool, falling asleep between contractions, trying to answer little questions, and beginning to feel the need to do a little more than breathe during contractions.
I was never checked, which thrills me to no end (it's the most uncomfortable part, and so very unnecessary!) But my midwives did instruct me on how I could "check" for myself. That was weird and cool, and different. Baby was getting closer!

The children were not awake by 8 and, in retrospect, I kind of (really) wish we would have just left them, and they could have met their new sibling before heading off with grandma for the day. But this was when Mr. Boss and his mother went and woke them, and took them to the car. They visited for a bit longer after that, but at 8:30 my midwives realized that the time had come, and Mr. Boss was called to be in the room with me.

8:30 am: I change from a squatting position to a slanted/laying position, with my back supported by the side of the pool. As soon as I changed I had a vicious contraction, and wanted to go back to how I had been before, but I couldn't, for fear of bringing another awful contraction. I had Mr. Boss on my left and Vivian on my right, each holding a hand, as I felt that, without them, I might slip beneath the water and drown.
I was tired and nearing the end.
With each contraction, I began to push/bear down. It was the only thing that "eased" my discomfort. Plus, I kind of couldn't help it at that point.
This went on for a few minutes. After each contraction I noticed that my hands felt tingly, because I wasn't getting enough oxygen, but my contractions were pretty much right on top of each other. I tried to inhale deeply, but that was not an easy thing to do, and I was exhaling more than I was able to inhale.
8:38am: My water broke as I was pushing. The big moment was that much closer. Then it happened. The "ring of fire" which supposedly only lasts as long as the head passes through, but lasts, for me, until baby is out. But this is where it got...fun... (not really.)

(Every time I am informed that the baby's head is out, it's kind of a let down. It feels like that part takes forever, and surely I got the whole baby out with the effort that I've been making, and isn't the rest of the baby supposed to just slip right out behind the head?! Yeah, no.)

This time was even more "fun", because nothing happened after the head was out. I waited for a contraction to come, I couldn't continue without one, and where was it? And, gosh, this is really unpleasant, and remember how I said the burning lasts until the whole baby is out? I finally couldn't take it anymore, and I start trying to push anyway, hoping it would bring on another contraction. Heather helped my efforts by guiding (but more like pulling) the baby out of me, which finally brought on that final contraction, followed by the relief, and the heaviest little weight being set in my arms, and Mr. Boss repeating over and over "It's a boy! We have another boy!" And even though I had been hoping for another girl, to hear we had a boy just sounded so right. And I just sat there in the water, with this baby in my arms, realizing what I had just accomplished and wondering why this boy felt so heavy, and hoping that none of my future babies get stuck like he did, because that was the most unpleasant thing to have ever experienced.Really, my mind was going a million miles a minute, but not to the point where I couldn't ask the time of birth. 8:46 am. That's about 5 hours and 46 (or so) minutes after I woke up to discover it was "time". And that makes me happy (especially after the 33.5 hour time span between my water breaking and C being born.)That morning brought a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, plus the exhaustion that comes with the work.
Now, one year later, I don't feel that kind of exhaustion, but I am experiencing a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. It has been one year since that incredible morning.

It has been one year since my barrel-chested, 9lb 9oz boy entered this world
One year ago he seemed huge, and now he's even bigger.
One year ago his hair was dark and shaggy, now it is blonde and...shaggy.
One year ago he was brand new and helpless, now he is a strong-willed little stinker and the speediest crawler I've ever seen.
One year ago he radiated pure love. He still does today.

♥Happiest 1st Birthday, my little Porcupine!♥♥Thanks for choosing me to be your mama.♥

Birth Stories

Baby #3

A Birth Story

Baby #4

Part i

Part ii

Part iii

Baby #6

Part i - The FalseAlarm

Part ii - Coaxing Labor

Part iii - Birth

Baby #7

Coming Soon