"Mother Nature's Son"

After our last check I stood up and asked, (in what I am sure was my most pathetic voice ever) my Midwife if I could go sit in the birth tub.  She smiled and nodded, knowing it was exactly what I needed to do.  She knew, every step of the way, exactly what I needed. 

As I strolled down the hall toward the tub I sent my last text to my girlfriend, who was well on her way, letting her know I was dilated 9cm.  And then I climbed in.  And oh my goodness...  it felt so nice.  Yes, I was still very much in labor and yes I was still having the most intense contractions, but sitting in that tub, looking around my house and feeling my husband sitting behind me, supporting me, loving me, holding me, just really sealed the deal, even more so.  There really is nothing like it.  

I felt my 1st contraction in the tub a few minutes after I got in...  And with that 1st contraction I felt a POP!  Hallelujah!  My water broke.  Mentally that was the last hurdle, before actually pushing my baby out, I had to overcome.  And we were off to the races!!!  Ok, so technically we weren't in any hurry, whatsoever.  I just really like that saying.  ;)

My contractions continued to stack up right on top of each other and all of a sudden I heard a knock at the door.  It was my dear friend.  She made it just in time.  I remember smiling as she walked in, feeling so thankful that she was able to leave her 3 babies at home and be there for me.  She immediately took over as official birth photographer and showered me with reassurance and loving words.  My niece got the video camera ready and my midwife continued to get all necessary supplies ready for when my baby arrived.  My birthing music was ready to go in my DVD player and as soon as I stepped foot in the tub I asked my niece to press play.  It was the 'Bedtime With The Beatles - Instrumental Versions of Classical Beatles Songs' CD and  just as that same track listing played every night as I nursed my 1st 2 babies to sleep it was going to be playing when I brought my baby into this world. I couldn't think of a more perfect scenario.  

During my transition I definitely had those moments of "I can't do this".  And when I say that, I mean I knew I was going to do it, but saying those words out loud somehow made it easier to manage.  I told my midwife that I was probably going to say "no" and "I can't do this", etc. simply because it just felt better to do so.  There was never a doubt in my mind I was going to do it.  

I remember feeling a particularly strong contraction and my body just kind of... pushed.  I knew I was pushing, but definitely felt as if my body took over.  And it felt good.  Soooo, I started pushing with every contraction from then on.  I was leaning against my husband, with my back to him, and after a couple pushes it stopped feeling good and started hurting again.  The descent down the birth canal had begun.  I could still hear, somewhat, my birthing music in the background, but it was getting harder and harder to focus on anything other than the pain and my body.  With each push I could feel my babys head descending and then as I would stop to breathe I could feel it "go back in".  Heart ache. I didn't like the position I was in because every time I pushed, I would try to ground myself by pressing my legs against the sides of the tub and the last thing we needed was for me to break the walls right down.  It might not have been a possible feat, but we weren't about to chance it.  So I changed positions to all 4s and tried once again to push my baby out.  It was so sad to feel the head once again... descending and then...  going back in.  I remember saying out loud, "It's going back in" and my midwife sympathized and then I remember saying, (again, in a very pathetic voice), "it's not fair".  I remember hearing the "awww's" of my friend and niece.  They were trying so hard to make me feel better.  And at that moment my midwife responded with one the most important and supportive things that helped me get through it.  She said, "I know...  but that's good.  It gives the tissue a chance to stretch and the head a chance to mold".  And with that I was given a renewed sense of, "I CAN DO THIS".  

After a few more contractions and me pushing with every ounce of my being my midwife suggested I move back to my original position.  Sitting, leaning on my husband.  She told me my babys head was "right there" and I was doing a good job.  I admit, I was in so much pain that when I tried to put my hand down there to feel it, I just couldn't.  I wanted to, but I was feeling discouraged by the pain.  At one point I just blurted out, "it hurts" and then my midwife came through yet again with the most powerful statement I needed to hear.  Her response?  A very loving and comforting, "I know it does...  but you just gotta push through that pain".  And instantly I felt the light bulb go on...  "oh yeah, duh!"  I have to push through it!  And... I did.  And I pushed.  And I pushed.  And then I felt my babys head coming out of me.  I can't even begin to sit here and try to explain what that feels like.  Absolutely amazing.  Times one hundred million.  And then my midwife looked up at me, smiled and said, "It's not going back in anymore".  Deep breathes...  tears.  Happiness.  And then it was time for me to "bring the house down".  :)  

I remember screaming...  loudly.  I remember feeling my babys body inching closer and closer to the world of water waiting for it.  I remember feeling the shoulders making their way through and then... at 5:12pm, to the tune of, "Mother Nature's Son" playing in the background, my baby was born. And instantly pulled out of the water and onto my chest.  I burst into tears and I could hear the tears of my niece and friend.  My midwife had the biggest grin on her face.  I took a little peak and blurted out, "IT'S A BOY"!  My son.  Oh thank the lord for you, my son.  I held him, close to my heart, wrapped in a towel and couldn't stop staring at him.  Kissing him.  I couldn't stop telling him how amazing he was.  Is.  I looked back at my husband and cried as we kissed.  The love in the room was overwhelming and I wanted to soak it all in.  Never before had I been in an environment where there was such a peaceful calm after the birth of a baby.  Something I am forever grateful for.

 

My son was born at home.  Where my heart and the hearts of my husband and children live.  Where, actually, Maya Angelou said it best...  "The ache for home lives in all of us, the safe place where we can go as we are and not be questioned."  Yep, that pretty much sums it up.  "Where we can go as we are and not be questioned."

This is it! Part 2.

For the next 3 hours, while my daughter was in school and my son napped, I progressed rather quickly. My Midwife returned around 2pm and by then I was at 5cm.  My water bag was still in tact so she wanted me to really get going/walk around to try to get it to break.  Basically, do whatever was the least bit comfortable.  She suggested that my husband and I go for a little walk around our complex.  So, we did.  It was nice to walk around, but by that point my contractions were right on top of each other and they were STRONG.  Oh man, they hurt (understatement of the year).  I remember walking around and just literally hanging on my husband when a contraction came on.  And the nausea...  oh the nausea.  I felt like I had to puke.  I was careful not to eat too much earlier that day, but I did eat breakfast and snack a little so I was worried that it might come up.  I told my husband I wanted to go back home... I was really feeling it now.  REALLY.  We walked back into the house and I immediately sat down on the carpet, grabbed our make-shift bucket vomit holder and...  yep.  You know what happened next.  Fortunately it wasn't a lot.  Very little actually.  I remember my midwife saying to me, "now you look like you're in labor" and that made me smile.  It was really happening.  I was actually doing it. 

After about an hour and a half I needed to go lie down or do something to help with the pain and my midwife thought that would be a good time to check me again.  We walked into my room to find my mom on the phone...  confirming her hotel reservation for her and my babies and then, without me having to say a word, she left to pick up my baby girl from school.  It was about 3:30pm and I had dilated to 7cm.  That was the 1st time in all my labors I had gone that far without any pain medication/drugs or interventions.  An accomplishment I am most proud of.  

My mom returned home with my daughter around 4:15 and I was still in my room, in the midst of my transition, (the hardest and most painful contractions) and I was trying desperately not to feel defeated by the fact that my water bag was still intact.  I heard my son wake up from his nap and felt better when my niece ran to pick him up.  I wanted desperately to see him, hold him and tell him good night, but I was so concerned about letting him see me in such an unfamiliar state.  Both my husband and I knew that he would not be happy about coming in for a quick good bye.  Instead, my husband brought our daughter in and we said our good nights.  We explained the baby was coming and her abuela was going to take her and her brother to Chuck E. Cheese for dinner and then to a hotel for a sleep over.  My niece, (sister to the one attending my birth) volunteered to stay at the hotel with them and my sister and brother-in-law joined them for fun and play at Chuck E. Cheese.  Lucky Kiddos.  And from there, I was able to focus, 100% on having my baby.

Mentally, the idea that my water hadn't broke yet was unbearably rough to handle.  When my son was born my labor started with my water breaking so I was not prepared to get this far without it happening yet.  And I knew that until it broke my baby wasn't coming and I had to endure this pain that much longer.  Ahhhh!  My midwife suggested I try sitting on the toilet to encourage it...  sooooo, I did.  Oh man.  oh man, oh man, oooh man.  WORST. PAIN. EVER.  There was absolutely nothing I could do to relax to help handle the pain, except to just wait it out.  She wanted me to sit there for 5 contractions and then she said she'd check me again at 4:30... and we would talk about breaking it.  Something neither of us wanted.  I counted each and every contraction waiting ever so impatiently for #5 so I could get off that damn thing. I couldn't squeeze my husbands hand hard enough, hold onto anything hard enough to transfer the pain.  I was stuck with it and it wasn't going anywhere...  Breathe...  I just had to breathe.  4:30 rolled around, and so did my 5th contraction so we checked again.  This time after she checked me I felt a little bit of fluid leak out.  Just a little, but enough to know that it was amniotic fluid and there was hope yet for it to break on it's own!!!  And with that she told me I was dilated to 9cm.  Almost there!!!!! 

This is it! Part 1...

I went to bed on January 13th, 2011 feeling like my labor had officially begun.  I was ecstatic.  And maybe a little bit nervous.  I got ready for bed and told my husband I was pretty sure I was in labor and we would see how the night went.  There was no sense of panic or fear whatsoever.  It was nice.  We were home and we had no plans to go anywhere else. 

We went to bed and throughout the night and into the morning I woke up to contractions just about every hour. When I got up the next morning I couldn't wait to call my family, friends and midwife. 

I spent the early part of the morning (between 7-8am) making calls and one of them was to my mom, asking her to come over.  Her job was to be in charge of my babies.  The plan, if we felt the need, was for her to take them to a nearby hotel for the night so my husband and I could bond with our new baby.  And having my mom there, taking care of them, made me feel so much better.  I also called my niece and told her she could come over whenever she wanted.  She has plans to become an RN and it's her desire to work in Labor & Delivery so I offered to let her attend my birth as a learning and positive experience.  I also called my girlfriend who was willing to attend and photograph my birth.  I wanted to capture every moment.  

When my midwife and I spoke I told her my contractions were about 10 minutes apart...  Consistently.  She wanted me to call her back when they were more like 5 minutes apart (and more painful).  My husband and I decided we would go ahead and set up my birth tub since we had been told on more than one occasion that it takes a long time to fill.  And once it was filled there was in internal heater that kept the water super warm.  My mom arrived and we all had breakfast.  The kids danced around and thoroughly enjoyed helping their daddy set up the birth tub.  I also took advantage of the time I had to pack a bag for my daughter and son in case we decided to send them to the hotel. It was a magical morning for me.  I got to experience the absolute joy of being home with my children while going through the early stages of my labor.  

I called my midwife a few hours later with the news that my contractions were continuing and gradually getting stronger, about 5 minutes apart.  She decided to come by to check on me.  It was just about noon when she arrived and as much as I knew I was having steady contractions I really didn't expect to hear news of any dilation.  Well...  when she checked me I was already dilated 3, almost 4cm.  What!?!  REALLY??  Awesome!  That was such a great boost to hear.  We were rolling right along...  She had to run out real quick and told me to call her back when I was experiencing painful, consistent (5 minutes apart), unbearable contractions.  

It was about lunch time and almost time for my daughter to go to school so after we shared the news of my progress my mom and I made lunch for the kids.  The tub was still being filled and with every contraction I would holler, "contraction" and my husband would rush over and start rubbing my back or feet or whatever I needed until they passed.  My niece even joined in and rubbed my back for a while.  Not too shabby.  

After lunch I packed up my daughters back pack for school and kissed her good bye.  And then I sat down with my son and proceeded to rock him to sleep for his nap.  I had a couple contractions while rocking him, but it was so easy for me to just remain calm.  Once he fell asleep I cuddled him a little longer and then put him to bed in his room.  At that point I was thinking, this day could not be going any more smoothly.

The Build Up...

Time goes by so fast.  This we all know.  But let me tell you...  my 3rd pregnancy was a contradiction to everything I knew up to that point.   I felt like it would never end.  The sickness... the discomfort...  oh man, I was watching the clock.  My babies, I have no doubt, were in a hurry to have their little sister or brother out as well.  For all they know aliens invaded mommies body and the day that baby was born I was set free...  :)  

Let me clarify what else I meant by everything being a contradiction...  It was my 3rd pregnancy and yet the 1st time I got so unbelievably sick and uncomfortable, so exhausted I could barely stand and for the 1st time I tested positive for GBS or Group B Strep.  And if that weren't enough I also had horrible reoccurring yeast infections.  I. WAS. A. MESS.   When I tested positive for GBS my midwife and I discussed what I would need to do to take care of myself so it wouldn't be an issue and so I wouldn't have to be hooked up to an IV during my labor/birth.  Annoying and a total pain? YES.  Simple fix?  Yes.  Just another "something" to overcome and say goodbye to when my baby was in my arms. 

We, and I say we because in my house we all felt the affects of my pregnancy, were nearing the end and it was time to get everything in order.  I reserved and picked up my birth tub and birthing kit, my husband and I went to our birthing classes and I got a handle on all my "issues".  I started getting my nightly contractions that happened a couple weeks before my son was born and every night I went to bed I would think and wonder...  is it going to be tonight?  And then I would wake up (several times throughout the night) and my son would be climbing all over me and... nothing.  

The week of my due date I started feeling my nightly contractions more and more and swore a few times I was in labor.  But then they would slow down or stop completely and I felt all bummed. boo.  So one night I was getting ready for bed and when I went to the bathroom I saw something that is not normal, but definitely...  a sign.  I feel like I've already given you all way TMI so I'll spare you the details now.  Suffice it to say... this was it. 

Did you know...

Did you know that the US has the highest obstetrical intervention rates of any country?  Or that in studies comparing home vs. hospital births, home births, supervised by a “trained attendant”, indicate fewer deaths, injuries and infections?  Did you know that respiratory distress in newborns was 17 times higher in hospitals than in the home? Did you know all that?  I didn't...  at least not until I actually took the time to do the research.

There were several reasons, including the ones I stated above, why I chose to have my baby at home this time around.  Truth be told, first and foremost was my desire to have a water birth.  I have always been interested in the idea of having a baby in what I felt would be the calmest, most peaceful and most comfortable environment (for my baby and myself) and a birthing tub was not something that could be provided for me at the hospital.

I also felt the need to completely take any unnecessary interventions and any pain meds out of the equation.  I did not want to risk getting a nurse who pushed or encouraged epidurals and I didn't want to be told that I needed pitocin just because I "stalled" for a bit. I knew full well what my body was capable of, what it was meant to do, and I wasn't about to let anyone tell me anything different. 

And after my 1st official appointment with my midwife I felt even more assured that I made the right decision.  The absence of any "medical office scenario" was so promising and comforting. I found myself sitting on a cozy couch, discussing my pregnancy with my midwife in what was their "normal" casual manner and all I could do was smile with excitement and anticipation of what was to come.  My future birthing journey...  one that I can not wait to share with all of you. 

Home is where... (you finish this sentence).

My Home.  

Say those words to yourself, out loud, and tell me what comes to mind?  What do you think about?  

I think about my family... the loves of my life.  I think about comfort and peace and love. 

When I found out I was pregnant I hesitated before calling my OB.  I wasn't in a hurry to get a blood test confirmation because I was already 100% sure and I could pretty much pinpoint my due date so the only other thing was seeing my itty bitty on an ultra sound.  And I had plenty of time to do that.  Plus I started to question whether or not I was going to go my usual route of Dr./hospital birth. My Choice...  remember?  I sure did. 

Before I got pregnant I told myself that IF it were to happen again I would attempt a HVBAC, (Home Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) or Home Birth.  And there was a large part of me that never thought it would happen... oops!  ;)

The end of May fast approached and I figured no matter what my birthing plans would end up being I should at least go in and get checked.  So I called my OB and made an appt. to go in the 1st week of June.   I didn't mention my thoughts about potentially having a home birth and instead I made an appt. to go back a month later...  I was just letting things happen.   I was letting the decision be made for me and I wasn't changing things.  My husband was naturally opposed to the idea, but after everything positive that had happened in the past he was much more open to hearing my thoughts and feelings about it.  And he kept the door open to the idea.   

I wound up speaking with 2 of my girlfriends who I considered to be pros at home birthing and asked them for the names of the midwives who delivered their babies.   I decided I owed it to myself to at least go meet with them to get a better feeling before making a final decision.  And I wanted my husband to meet them as well.  I called their office to get some information and to make an appt. to come in and was told that I would have to sign an arbitration agreement if I decided to home birth with them.  Huh?  Really?  But I was told to never sign one of those...  hmmmmmm.  I casually said thank you and ended the conversation.

I couldn't get it out of my head...  Add to that the fact that I was extremely uncomfortable with the idea of leaving my OB.  He was my dr. for years and I trusted him implacably.  I didn't want to have that conversation with him...  I wasn't ready to "dump" him. So I went to my 2nd appt. and made a 3rd for the following month. 

I continued to speak with friends, soliciting advice, and after one conversation specifically where we talked about the arbitration agreement I realized that all I was doing was letting these so called "obstacles" just stand in my way of going for what I really wanted.  It was time for me to stand up once again and follow my gut.  My heart. I called the midwives office back, that day, and set the meeting for my husband and I to go in for a meet n' greet.  And it went off without a hitch.  They definitely sold me and somewhat sold my husband.  Enough for me to make an appt. for my next check up and to work up enough courage to call my OB to break the news.  I decided to have my baby at home.  My Home. 

Charmed, I'm Sure.

My 3rd pregnancy was...  different.  To say the least.  

I was sicker than ever and the word exhaustion took on a whole new meaning.  My feelings toward being pregnant drastically changed.  

Before this I actually considered becoming a surrogate I loved being pregnant so much.  That was a thought that quickly vanished once my nausea completely took over and I was so sick I could barely move.  And, as many of you mommies out there know, is not easy when you have 2 toddlers running around that you need to keep up with.  Most days it took every ounce of energy I could muster to just get out of bed. Thank god for my amazing and fabulous husband who got up almost every morning to start off our babies day with a healthy breakfast.  I literally had to force myself to eat to maintain any sort of strength and that was not an easy task.  Within the year prior to getting pregnant I became a vegetarian and with this pregnancy my food choices decreased even more.  Food grew to become my worst enemy and my body was literally running on fumes.  

My triumph of the day was getting my daughter to and from school and getting dinner on the table.  Thank goodness she only went 3 days/week.   I drank more coffee than I thought I should and it didn't help much at all.  I knew it was because I wasn't eating much of anything...  Cereal, peanut butter n' jelly sandwiches and mac n' cheese became my staples.  And on occasion as much as I'm ashamed to admit, I did resort to eating some meat.  My body craved it.  Ugh, gross.  So gross. 

Sleep was something that I no longer looked forward to.  My baby boy was still up often throughout the night and for the most part would only sleep if he was cuddled up right next to me.  Now, the majority of the time I would never mind cuddling with him, but when my belly began to grow and my discomfort levels rose the last thing I needed was an 18-month old toddler who liked to roll and kick in his sleep.  And then when he would finally fall asleep, after moving around and climbing all over me for literally hours, he landed right on top of my face.  Yep, his head would literally rest on my face and that's where he would try to fall asleep.  And this continued pretty much throughout my entire pregnancy.  The only changes were I began to move him off me when he was asleep and most of the time he stayed asleep.  And if I was feeling extra brave I would let my husband try to carry him back into his own room to put him back into his bed.  Ha, that never worked.  This was the way we slept, up until the night my baby was born.  

I also have to admit that my faith constantly wavered.  I found myself questioning a faith that I believed in so strongly.  Why would God give me this baby when I truly felt that I couldn't be ready?  Why was this happening?  I needed answers.  I needed reasons.  I needed clarification.  And I wasn't getting any of it.  Well, at least not during my pregnancy. 

I know I've pretty much bitched and complained this entire blog entry about how rough my pregnancy was, but at the end of it all I was happy.  I knew I had an itty bitty being growing in my belly and that alone was worth every moment of icky-ness I was feeling.  And after all those moments of questioning my faith and my abilities to take this on, I did convince myself that everything would work out.  How?  Ha...  who the hell knew.  Only time would tell.