Well, now that I have had a medicated vaginal hospital delivery, a homebirth, and a c-section, and I wrote a post about my homebirth experience, I thought I would do a post about my c-section.
First of all, I have ZERO regrets about having a c-section. After the losses we have had and the scares of this pregnancy, I know all too well that truly the only thing that matters is the safe delivery of a healthy baby. For many reasons, I think the least-invasive safe delivery of a healthy baby is best for everyone involved (I can say that with even more conviction now that I've had all modes of delivery), but there is no part of me that second-guesses or doubts our decision to have Wyatt via c-section. I am lucky that I have had a natural birth, so I don't feel cheated out of that experience or like I will never know what it's like. I am also lucky that Wyatt is our last baby, so I haven't affected future deliveries with the section.
The biggest difference to me between a natural birth and a c-section is ridiculously obvious now that I put it in writing... it's how UNnatural the experience was. I was truly shocked with Henry's labor and delivery just how natural it all was. We had taken no childbirth classes, and no one at the birth was telling me what was going on or what I needed to do - my body knew EXACTLY what to do. I forgot even the things I read - all of my coping mechanisms, all the ways I moved and didn't move, when to push and not push, etc. were done completely passively by my body and not by any decisions on my part. It blew my mind, and I don't think I've ever done anything that felt so natural.
On the other hand, having a c-section was just freakish. Really. The closest analogy I can think of, and what I thought of when it was happening, was that this is what it might feel like to be abducted by aliens. I can't even describe the weirdness of feeling people taking your organs out and reaching up inside of your cut open abdomen while you're awake. I had a small panic attack when I first got to the OR, partly because I had had only about 40 minutes to think about the fact that I was about to have a c-section. And of course I had spent that whole time thinking about Wyatt and not the fact that I was about to have surgery. So when it finally hit me that I was there to get cut open, it freaked me out. Whereas going into labor with Henry was exhilarating and I had a total peace about it, going into the c-section was scary.
The hardest thing about having a c-section has been how sad I am that it is affecting my ability to be a mother to my children. I kept apologizing to Wyatt in the hospital that he has such a lame mom - several times he had to cry hungrily while I wiggled and squirmed my way up to get him out of his bassinet. I was completely awkward changing his diaper and burping him the first few times. Simple things like being able to get down and kneel next to Amelia's bed at bedtime to pray and say good night like we always do, it makes me so sad that I can't. And probably most of all, I am heartbroken for Henry. More than probably ever in his life, he wants and needs me to pick him up and snuggle him and physically love on him. I remember when Amelia was born, Sophia (who had always been a great sleeper) started waking up at night, and all she needed was some extra TLC - I would go into her room and just hold and kiss her until she fell back asleep and after a couple of weeks, she was back to sleeping through the night. It kills me that when Henry reaches his arms up to me, I can't swoop down and pick him up. We're learning to sit and have him crawl up next to me, but I am even scared to let him onto my lap yet, for fear that he will accidentally hurt my incision. I knew that I wouldn't be able to do things like bathe the kids or pick them up, but I am shocked at how much I can't do for/with them, and I hate it.
Pain wise... there is not even a comparison between the births. Henry's was by FAR the least painful birth (labor, birth, and recovery), followed by Amelia and Sophia, followed by Wyatt. Even recovering from a third degree tear, the pain after a c-section is just a lot worse. Having said that, it's really not as bad as I had feared. I was really scared, remembering how much pain I was in after having my gall bladder out. But having an incision at the bottom of my abdomen compared to the top makes it less painful to move around. And just like with a vaginal delivery, the distraction of having a sweet newborn makes the pain much easier to ignore. It's been surprisingly nice to have a totally in-tact and un-painful perineum after birth - there have been several times that I've been consciously thankful for that. But people who actually WANT to have a c-section because they are scared of the pain of childbirth are crazy nuts.
Obviously the recovery time is totally different. With all of my vaginal deliveries, I was pretty much back to my normal physical state within 24 hours - going shopping, doing laundry, etc. With Henry, the midwife had to scold me to get back in bed about 20 minutes after he was born, when she caught me standing up and digging through a laundry basket of clean clothes to find a robe.
I am only 4 days out from surgery, but I thought I would also write down some of the things that I was told or have come up with that I think have helped this be about as painless and good of an experience as it can be. I also wanted to write down how my recovery has been so far, because I know this is the kind of thing I'll forget very soon. I was so thankful for my friends who had had c-sections, who told me what to expect and gave me advice - so I want to remember this stuff if someone asks later.
Wyatt was born at 11:45 in the morning. The first 12 hours after the surgery I was pretty immobile. I really didn't move at all - as my friend Susan said, "just enough to keep from getting bed sores!" Ha! It actually worried me, how much it hurt just to try to roll to one side or sit up. Getting Wyatt out of his bassinet, getting in position or nurse him, trying to burp him and change his diapers - those were all really hard at first. A video camera in my room would have been funny, as I am sure I looked ridiculous wiggling around trying to make it work. The good thing is...
Right around midnight, which is when they started my IV Toradol (the best!), the pain got 1000x better and I was able to move around in the bed without much trouble. The Toradol was a lot more effective for me than the epidural Fentanyl. For the rest of the night, I was able to take care of Wyatt without problems and really didn't have much pain. Going from laying to sitting was painful, so I slept mostly upright in my bed.
At around 10 am on Day 1 after surgery, I got out of bed. I had a lot of people standing around ready to catch me if I fell, but I had no trouble getting out of bed by myself. Everything - like stretching out when I stood up - hurt at first, but I found out that after I powered through that, it was so much easier the next time. I shuffled to the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and gave myself the most awesome sponge bath EVER! Seriously, it was wonderful because I felt really gross. The nurses changed my bedding and gave me a new gown, and I even brushed my hair - aah!
24 hours after surgery, I started walking around the room regularly. Several people had told me to walk as much and as early as possible, and I really do think it made a big difference. About every hour or so, I would get out of bed and just piddle around the room for about 10 minutes and then lay back down. Around 3pm on Day 1, I asked them to take out my epidural. Honestly, I didn't feel any difference - I think the Toradol was really what was keeping my pain away. And the epidural made me itchy. After that, I started walking the halls. I pushed Wyatt's bassinet and did two laps around the unit, which also took about 10-14 minutes. I did that three times on Day 1, as well as continuing to get out of bed regularly to go to the bathroom (I drink a LOT of water when I'm first breastfeeding!) and just walk around the room. Going from sitting to standing, or lying to sitting, was still painful all day, but only during those transitions.
On Day 2, I was disconnected from my IV and was finally free from all tubes and monitors. I got up pretty early and packed up all my stuff - I was excited after my doctor saw me and agreed to let me go home! I did take the Percocet they had prescribed me for the first time, because I was scared of how I would feel once the Toradol left my system. I was having some burning pain around my incision and it still hurt to transition from lying to sitting to standing, but everything was tolerable. I went home at around 2 pm on Day 2.
I discovered that actually the more I was on my feet, the better I felt. If I spent too long in bed, I would feel really achy and sore afterwards. Plus I was just REALLY happy to be home! So when I got home, I spent the rest of the afternoon straightening up the house (no bending down to the floor or lifting - just putting away dishes, etc.) and just walking around. The only medicine I took at this point was Motrin every 6 hours - I did take that every 6 hours regardless of whether I was hurting or not. I was still having burning pain around my incision, so I decided to put one of those perineal cold pads that I used after my vaginal deliveries on my incision. Oh my gosh, it felt SO good! I kept one on my incision for the next two days, and it made ALL my incision discomfort go away. Late on Day 2, I decided to take a nap after nursing the baby, and without thinking about it, I laid down flat on my back... until I woke up and was stuck there like a turtle! I hadn't thought about the fact that at the hospital I used the automatic bed to get up and down. Davis helped me up while I yelled and said bad words. After that, I slept propped up on a few pillows, with more pillows piled next to me. When it was time to get up, I'd stuff those other pillows behind my back to slowly bring myself up. By the middle of Day 3, I wasn't having any more trouble sitting up normally.
Today was Day 3. Honestly, I feel fine. Other than not lifting anything and not bending down to the floor, I have been about as active as I might normally be on a weekend day at home - fixing lunch and taking care of the house and kids, but nothing too ambitious -dinner was leftovers from the wonderful spaghetti that someone from church brought us last night. I have found that I DO need to keep taking the Motrin. I ran out this morning and didn't take it for most of the night and day, but I got pretty sore after about 10 hours and am back on it now. As long as I take the Motrin, I'm not really having much pain. I am just achy and sore, maybe like I would feel the day after a strenuous work out. The thing that's bothering me the most, actually, is the tape burn I have from my surgical dressing - it is very raised and red and itchy. I have been putting cortisone cream on it, and that is helping a little. I have also found that, other than on Day 1, the afterpains haven't been nearly as bad this time as before, and I think it's because I have been really good about drinking Red Raspberry Leaf Tea - I drink about 3 strong cups a day.
One thing I was worried about was breastfeeding, because I had heard it can be harder after a c-section. I don't know if it's because this is my fourth baby, but I really didn't find that to be the case. I have a huge gross belly between by boobs and my incision, so I haven't had any trouble nursing in normal positions. Only the first 12 hours were hard, because I couldn't move well to re-position myself or baby.
So, in a nutshell, my advice would be:
1. Get up and walk as soon as you can after surgery. Without wearing yourself out, walk as often as you can.
2. Use non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications (Toradol in the hospital/Motrin at home) - honestly, I think they work way better than narcotics.
3. Get some perineal cold pads (the L&D unit has them, so snag those, but you can order more online) and put them on your incision.
4. Drink Red Raspberry Leaf Tea starting one cup a day your whole third trimester and increase after 36 weeks (I never did, because of my preterm labor) and then drink lots after the baby is born.
So, that was my c-section experience. NOW I need to figure out how to get back in shape, lose the EIGHTY pounds I need to lose to get back to my pre-kids weight, and tone up this INSANE belly!! But first... there's a baby who needs snuggles next to me :)
P.S. - I just remembered, I have started taking arnica tablets too. Because they had so much trouble getting Wyatt out and were mashing on me, cutting more, using the vacuum, etc. I am pretty bruised up around my incision. We'll see if it helps.
Showing posts with label homebirth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label homebirth. Show all posts
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Home Birth
This is that post about having the baby at home. Warning, it's a long one!
When I was twelve, I spent a summer nannying for a family who had had both of their children at home. Both the parents were nurses and the mom was fairly involved in the homebirth community. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth occurred to me.
When I was sixteen, my dad and stepmom had my sister at home. I was asked to photograph her birth, which was an awesome, magical experience. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth appealed to me.
When I was twenty-one, I lived in an apartment building above Carla and Charlie, a couple whose two year old son I babysat. Carla had her second child in the apartment below mine while I watched her son and then brought him down immediately afterwards to introduce him to his sister. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth started really forming in my mind - with thoughts of what my own child's birth might look like some day.
When I was pregnant with Sophia, I never considered a homebirth. My mother's labors were complicated - shortly after my birth, she actually coded and had to be brought back to life. Although I was low risk, it was my first pregnancy, and I had no idea what to expect. I assumed everything would go perfectly, and mostly it did... I thought, at the time. I certainly didn't have any hard feelings about the experience.
Same thing with Amelia, really. I did consider a homebirth, but it didn't seem practically possible. We had a 19 month old, Sophia was undergoing surgeries and tissue expansions up until the month before Amelia's birth, our insurance at that time was not great and wouldn't have covered a homebirth, and just mentally and emotionally we weren't in a good place to really think about it - we were so focused on Sophia and my new job at the firm, that my pregnancy just kind of went by. I do regret that. But, again, I don't regret out hospital birth. It was fine.
The thing was, though, my births were just that - fine. They were awesome because they resulted in Sophia and Amelia, and for that they will always be two of the most amazing experiences of my life. But laying flat on my back during contractions hurt too much, so I got epidurals (and if I had another hospital birth where I was forced to lay on my back, you can bet I'd have an epidural again!). My labors were 16 and 19 hours long. I was starving and thirsty, but wasn't allowed to eat or drink. My doctor did an episiotomy without asking or even telling me what he was doing, and I subsequently had a third degree tear. Immediately upon their birth, my babies were rushed away from me and I had to wait to hold them while they were cleaned and examined and weighed, which seemed to take forever. And then I paced a hole in the floor until the next morning when the doctors would finally let me go home. I hated being in the hospital after birth - I felt fine and hospitals are for sick people, I wanted to take my baby HOME!
So, when I became pregnant with Henry, we began to look into the option of having the baby at home. We watched The Business of Being Born, which pretty much single-handedly convinced Davis (who didn't have the personal experience with homebirth that I had) that it was the way to go. I read every natural childbirth book I could get my hands on. And, because at heart I'm still a scientist, I read every study I could find about the safety of homebirth - the conclusion being that in low risk pregnancies, homebirths had the same safety outcomes as hospital births, with vastly lower numbers of c-sections and other interventions ultimately used. I discovered that the midwife who delivered my sister fifteen years ago had her office literally one block from our house. And I called Carla. And I lobbied, lost, appealed, and won full in-network coverage for my homebirth by my insurance company.
And, truly, it was so worth it.
I'm not one of those people who thinks homebirth is for everyone. It's clearly not. But I wish more women knew that it's an option, one that through most of time and still in most of the world, is common. Midwives carry all the equipment (oxygen, pitocin, etc.) and knowledge necessary to handle common emergencies, and their maternal and infant outcomes are the same as doctors for low risk pregnancies. In most European countries, midwives do deliver most of the babies, leaving only the high risk deliveries to the doctors. And, most of all, childbirth isn't a disease - it really doesn't need to be managed and treated by doctors the way it is in hospitals... all that pitocin and the vast majority of those c-sections, simply aren't necessary. I wish women trusted their bodies to do what they have done since the time of Eve. Truly, God made our bodies to deliver babies, and they're way, way better at it than our culture and modern medicine would have us believe. Birth isn't nearly as painful or scary or traumatic or life-or-death as it is in the movies or on TV. Whether they chose to have their baby in a hospital, or a birth center, or at home - I wish every woman could go into the experience with that knowledge and confidence.
If Henry had been born any earlier than he was, if my asthma had not been well controlled, or if there had been any other complications, I would have had another hospital birth without hesitation (which is why I was followed by an OB as well). And it would have been fine, the way the girls' births were fine.
But there were so many things that made Henry's birth better than just fine. Being able to freely move around during my entire labor, to find positions that were comfortable, and to let gravity do it's thing was the number one thing that made the pain absolutely tolerable (I honestly never asked for or even wanted drugs). Here I am sleeping less than an hour before Henry's birth
Y'all, I do NOT have a super high pain tolerance. I took no birth classes. When labor hit, I literally forgot everything I read in those books. I didn't do Bradley or Lamaze of Hypnobirthing or anything. I just did what was comfortable, and it was amazing how listening to my body just...worked. I knew what to do - when to move, when to stay still, when to push, when to stop pushing.
AND I firmly believe that being able to move around and work with gravity is the reason I had a five hour labor instead of a sixteen or nineteen hour labor (despite the fact that I got pitocin in the hospital).
But most of all, I cherished the fact that once Henry was born, he was MINE. He was placed on my chest immediately and stayed there. The midwives examined him while I held him. He was born into a dark and quiet room, into loving warm arms. He heard only softly spoken familiar voices. Can you imagine what it's like for a baby to go from inside the womb to suddenly being born into glaring lights, whisked through the air across a loud room onto a hard table? I thought about that too. Henry never screamed, he was so relaxed from the minute he was born. He still is. The girls woke up shortly after his birth, and we were together as a family celebrating Henry's birth - no waiting on visiting hours, no restrictions about children on the floor. I never had to ask for permission to do anything, because I was in my own home and I was in charge. No one came to take Henry away, or to tell me I had to use the bathroom before I could leave, or to ask me to sign 500 forms. Henry's birth day was just that - a day (well, night) to celebrate and cherish his birth. And then carry on. I got up and made breakfast the next day, I showered in my shower, I napped in my bed. I was home.
When I was twelve, I spent a summer nannying for a family who had had both of their children at home. Both the parents were nurses and the mom was fairly involved in the homebirth community. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth occurred to me.
When I was sixteen, my dad and stepmom had my sister at home. I was asked to photograph her birth, which was an awesome, magical experience. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth appealed to me.
When I was twenty-one, I lived in an apartment building above Carla and Charlie, a couple whose two year old son I babysat. Carla had her second child in the apartment below mine while I watched her son and then brought him down immediately afterwards to introduce him to his sister. That was the first time the idea of having a homebirth started really forming in my mind - with thoughts of what my own child's birth might look like some day.
When I was pregnant with Sophia, I never considered a homebirth. My mother's labors were complicated - shortly after my birth, she actually coded and had to be brought back to life. Although I was low risk, it was my first pregnancy, and I had no idea what to expect. I assumed everything would go perfectly, and mostly it did... I thought, at the time. I certainly didn't have any hard feelings about the experience.
Same thing with Amelia, really. I did consider a homebirth, but it didn't seem practically possible. We had a 19 month old, Sophia was undergoing surgeries and tissue expansions up until the month before Amelia's birth, our insurance at that time was not great and wouldn't have covered a homebirth, and just mentally and emotionally we weren't in a good place to really think about it - we were so focused on Sophia and my new job at the firm, that my pregnancy just kind of went by. I do regret that. But, again, I don't regret out hospital birth. It was fine.
The thing was, though, my births were just that - fine. They were awesome because they resulted in Sophia and Amelia, and for that they will always be two of the most amazing experiences of my life. But laying flat on my back during contractions hurt too much, so I got epidurals (and if I had another hospital birth where I was forced to lay on my back, you can bet I'd have an epidural again!). My labors were 16 and 19 hours long. I was starving and thirsty, but wasn't allowed to eat or drink. My doctor did an episiotomy without asking or even telling me what he was doing, and I subsequently had a third degree tear. Immediately upon their birth, my babies were rushed away from me and I had to wait to hold them while they were cleaned and examined and weighed, which seemed to take forever. And then I paced a hole in the floor until the next morning when the doctors would finally let me go home. I hated being in the hospital after birth - I felt fine and hospitals are for sick people, I wanted to take my baby HOME!
So, when I became pregnant with Henry, we began to look into the option of having the baby at home. We watched The Business of Being Born, which pretty much single-handedly convinced Davis (who didn't have the personal experience with homebirth that I had) that it was the way to go. I read every natural childbirth book I could get my hands on. And, because at heart I'm still a scientist, I read every study I could find about the safety of homebirth - the conclusion being that in low risk pregnancies, homebirths had the same safety outcomes as hospital births, with vastly lower numbers of c-sections and other interventions ultimately used. I discovered that the midwife who delivered my sister fifteen years ago had her office literally one block from our house. And I called Carla. And I lobbied, lost, appealed, and won full in-network coverage for my homebirth by my insurance company.
And, truly, it was so worth it.
I'm not one of those people who thinks homebirth is for everyone. It's clearly not. But I wish more women knew that it's an option, one that through most of time and still in most of the world, is common. Midwives carry all the equipment (oxygen, pitocin, etc.) and knowledge necessary to handle common emergencies, and their maternal and infant outcomes are the same as doctors for low risk pregnancies. In most European countries, midwives do deliver most of the babies, leaving only the high risk deliveries to the doctors. And, most of all, childbirth isn't a disease - it really doesn't need to be managed and treated by doctors the way it is in hospitals... all that pitocin and the vast majority of those c-sections, simply aren't necessary. I wish women trusted their bodies to do what they have done since the time of Eve. Truly, God made our bodies to deliver babies, and they're way, way better at it than our culture and modern medicine would have us believe. Birth isn't nearly as painful or scary or traumatic or life-or-death as it is in the movies or on TV. Whether they chose to have their baby in a hospital, or a birth center, or at home - I wish every woman could go into the experience with that knowledge and confidence.
If Henry had been born any earlier than he was, if my asthma had not been well controlled, or if there had been any other complications, I would have had another hospital birth without hesitation (which is why I was followed by an OB as well). And it would have been fine, the way the girls' births were fine.
But there were so many things that made Henry's birth better than just fine. Being able to freely move around during my entire labor, to find positions that were comfortable, and to let gravity do it's thing was the number one thing that made the pain absolutely tolerable (I honestly never asked for or even wanted drugs). Here I am sleeping less than an hour before Henry's birth
Y'all, I do NOT have a super high pain tolerance. I took no birth classes. When labor hit, I literally forgot everything I read in those books. I didn't do Bradley or Lamaze of Hypnobirthing or anything. I just did what was comfortable, and it was amazing how listening to my body just...worked. I knew what to do - when to move, when to stay still, when to push, when to stop pushing.
AND I firmly believe that being able to move around and work with gravity is the reason I had a five hour labor instead of a sixteen or nineteen hour labor (despite the fact that I got pitocin in the hospital).
But most of all, I cherished the fact that once Henry was born, he was MINE. He was placed on my chest immediately and stayed there. The midwives examined him while I held him. He was born into a dark and quiet room, into loving warm arms. He heard only softly spoken familiar voices. Can you imagine what it's like for a baby to go from inside the womb to suddenly being born into glaring lights, whisked through the air across a loud room onto a hard table? I thought about that too. Henry never screamed, he was so relaxed from the minute he was born. He still is. The girls woke up shortly after his birth, and we were together as a family celebrating Henry's birth - no waiting on visiting hours, no restrictions about children on the floor. I never had to ask for permission to do anything, because I was in my own home and I was in charge. No one came to take Henry away, or to tell me I had to use the bathroom before I could leave, or to ask me to sign 500 forms. Henry's birth day was just that - a day (well, night) to celebrate and cherish his birth. And then carry on. I got up and made breakfast the next day, I showered in my shower, I napped in my bed. I was home.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
The Story
It's been a really busy week already, and I'll catch up on everything soon, but I wanted to finally write up Henry's birth story before the details started disappearing. Unlike the details of his sweet face and hands and feet, I don't have any ultra-close up pictures of the details of his labor and birth -thankfully ha!
I kind of want to start at the beginning and all the reasoning and research and history that went into our decision to have a home birth, but really - as my wise friend Carla said, it's easier to just say "it was a well-researched decision." I probably will talk about it some day, but it's a separate post, because this one is going to be really long - I mostly want to write it all out so I don't forget. I did get concurrent OB/midwife care. If my asthma had not been well controlled, if I had gone into labor before 36 weeks, or there had been any other complications, I would have had a hospital birth.
I didn't know it (or obviously it would have been better) - but this was my last belly shot, taken on February 5th
On Saturday, February 6th, the day after I reached 36 weeks, I decided to allow myself a quick outing after six weeks of bed rest. I met a friend and her daughter - Sophia's best friend - for breakfast at IHOP with the girls. Afterwards, we went to their house so the girls could play for a couple of hours, then we headed home and I once again planted myself on the couch. I had every intention of taking it easy another two weeks until I was fully full term.
Later that afternoon, my friend Sarah came over with her husband, her son who is Amelia's age, and her twins who are eight months old - and a wonderful lasagna dinner! Do I have awesome friends or what?! They stayed and visited for a couple of hours. I love being around them - not only are Sarah and her husband awesome, but our kids play together really well, with Sophia doting on "the baby twins." But around 5:30 or so, as Sarah and her family were getting ready to leave, I started getting uncomfortable. I had been having contractions all day, kind of like I'd been having contractions for six weeks, but by the end of the day they made me squirm. Sarah later told me she knew something was up, because I was "sitting funny."
As soon as they left and I got dinner on the table, something weird happened. I read about it in the Bradley childbirth book, but hadn't experienced it before - I became totally manic. I could NOT. SIT. STILL. I mean, I literally couldn't. I wasn't in pain (the contractions were regular and about two minutes apart, but not really painful), I was just insanely restless. I told Davis I was going for a walk. I walked up and down our street and around the block a few times - it was a gorgeous, clear, cold night. After six weeks of being cooped up, walking felt amazing. The contractions were still mild and didn't make me stop walking. I had a feeling this was the very early stages of labor, but nothing would happen anytime soon - with Amelia I went into the hospital when my contractions were two minutes apart and she was born eighteen hours later.
I went back into the house and tried to help Davis put the girls to bed, although I don't think I was much good - I didn't even have the attention span to give them a bath or read them a story. As soon as they were in bed, around 7:00, I called my friend Carla (who was going to be with us for the birth regardless of whether it was in the hospital or at home - I was actually there ten years ago when she had her second child at home) and my midwife to tell them something might be going on. I told them I thought it was still very early. But because I had been having contractions for so many weeks, my midwife wanted to make sure, and she sent her apprentice over to check my cervix. I told her I didn't think it had changed any, and sure enough, at around 9:00 p.m. it hadn't changed from my last appointment the week before. I continued to pace a hole in the floor of my living room, as well as sit on the birth ball, which felt awesome. Mary, our midwife, told me to take a shower and call her back. My contractions seemed stronger, although still not very painful, after my cervix check. A shower sounded great.
Wow. Immediately after my shower, my contractions became much more intense and I could no longer talk or walk through them. I asked Davis to call Carla and Mary back, and they both decided to head over to our house. Around 10:00, they arrived. I was still chatty and excited between contractions, though during contractions I was all business.
I remember watching this (awesome) hippy dippy YouTube video (check it out) when I was pregnant, where this girl talked about how the contractions were just pressure and energy and not painful at all - and all I thought about from about 10:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. was "bull----." The contractions hurt. BUT not laying flat on my back in a hospital bed made them totally manageable. Sitting or laying still made me want to scream, but being able to move made all the difference in the world. During most of my contractions at this point I was standing up and I had the heels of my hands dug into my eye sockets until I saw stars and imagined I was flying through space - I don't know why, but it helped, and I'm really surprised I didn't have black eyes the next day.
By around midnight, the contractions were getting more intense, and Carla made the comment that I was now serious between contractions. I retreated to my little "cave" (bedroom) and everyone left me alone, except Carla and sometime Mary, who did this awesome thing where they put pressure on my back during a contraction.
Davis paced his nervous energy off outside the room, which was much better than having it around me. I started sitting on the toilet adjacent to our room during most of my contractions and that felt good. It was really nice to be able to do whatever felt good, and that's what I did. I forgot every thing I ever read in any book, I never took any childbirth classes, I just did whatever made me most comfortable. Check the time on this one - I had NO idea I was just an hour away from holding Henry!
At a little after 1:00 a.m., the midwives had set up a birth stool at the foot of my bed. I had started pushing - actually my body was pushing, I was making no conscious effort to push - a little and since sitting on the toilet felt good, they made the awesome decision that this is how I should deliver. Probably around 1:20, I moved to the stool and started pushing during contractions. Again, it was so great to just do exactly what my body told me to do, rather than having someone else tell me what and how to do it. The midwife told me that my bag of waters was bulging and that it would probably burst during my next big push. I was getting hot, so I asked Davis - who was rubbing my shoulders at this point - to get me a cold wash cloth. He went to find one, and during the next contraction, I pushed hard. My water broke just as predicted, but then my body kept pushing and out came Henry's head! And my body kept pushing - same contraction - and the rest of him came out! We were all shocked. Both the girls crowned forever and we all thought after my water broke, we would start the whole process of getting baby out. But he had other plans, precious boy. 1:34 a.m., Sunday, February 7th.
They placed him in my arms immediately and examined him while I held him.
After they cut his cord, we moved to the bed for me to deliver the placenta. I held Henry and just marveled and praised God and loved the fact that no one was taking him across the room to mess with him after all the hard work I'd done - I just got to keep him! He was so cute, he kept turning his head and licking his own arm and then making this face like that's not what I'm looking for! So I decided to see if he wanted to nurse, and oh my gosh, little five minute old 36 weeker just latched on and started nursing like a champ.
After he had nursed and I had delivered the placenta (and the midwives had magically cleaned up the whole room and were washing towels in the laundry room), Davis took Henry into the girls' room to wake them up and show them their brother. They got up and came to our bed, where we all marveled at him.
The midwives and Carla left around 3:30 a.m. and amazingly, the girls actually went back to bed. Davis slept on the couch. And I laid in bed and just stared at Henry until the sun came up. I prayed and prayed for this baby, and here he is.
A few days ago, we had God is So Good playing on iTunes, and Sophia said to me "God is so good, he gave us a baby brother!" Amen.
I kind of want to start at the beginning and all the reasoning and research and history that went into our decision to have a home birth, but really - as my wise friend Carla said, it's easier to just say "it was a well-researched decision." I probably will talk about it some day, but it's a separate post, because this one is going to be really long - I mostly want to write it all out so I don't forget. I did get concurrent OB/midwife care. If my asthma had not been well controlled, if I had gone into labor before 36 weeks, or there had been any other complications, I would have had a hospital birth.
I didn't know it (or obviously it would have been better) - but this was my last belly shot, taken on February 5th
On Saturday, February 6th, the day after I reached 36 weeks, I decided to allow myself a quick outing after six weeks of bed rest. I met a friend and her daughter - Sophia's best friend - for breakfast at IHOP with the girls. Afterwards, we went to their house so the girls could play for a couple of hours, then we headed home and I once again planted myself on the couch. I had every intention of taking it easy another two weeks until I was fully full term.
Later that afternoon, my friend Sarah came over with her husband, her son who is Amelia's age, and her twins who are eight months old - and a wonderful lasagna dinner! Do I have awesome friends or what?! They stayed and visited for a couple of hours. I love being around them - not only are Sarah and her husband awesome, but our kids play together really well, with Sophia doting on "the baby twins." But around 5:30 or so, as Sarah and her family were getting ready to leave, I started getting uncomfortable. I had been having contractions all day, kind of like I'd been having contractions for six weeks, but by the end of the day they made me squirm. Sarah later told me she knew something was up, because I was "sitting funny."
As soon as they left and I got dinner on the table, something weird happened. I read about it in the Bradley childbirth book, but hadn't experienced it before - I became totally manic. I could NOT. SIT. STILL. I mean, I literally couldn't. I wasn't in pain (the contractions were regular and about two minutes apart, but not really painful), I was just insanely restless. I told Davis I was going for a walk. I walked up and down our street and around the block a few times - it was a gorgeous, clear, cold night. After six weeks of being cooped up, walking felt amazing. The contractions were still mild and didn't make me stop walking. I had a feeling this was the very early stages of labor, but nothing would happen anytime soon - with Amelia I went into the hospital when my contractions were two minutes apart and she was born eighteen hours later.
I went back into the house and tried to help Davis put the girls to bed, although I don't think I was much good - I didn't even have the attention span to give them a bath or read them a story. As soon as they were in bed, around 7:00, I called my friend Carla (who was going to be with us for the birth regardless of whether it was in the hospital or at home - I was actually there ten years ago when she had her second child at home) and my midwife to tell them something might be going on. I told them I thought it was still very early. But because I had been having contractions for so many weeks, my midwife wanted to make sure, and she sent her apprentice over to check my cervix. I told her I didn't think it had changed any, and sure enough, at around 9:00 p.m. it hadn't changed from my last appointment the week before. I continued to pace a hole in the floor of my living room, as well as sit on the birth ball, which felt awesome. Mary, our midwife, told me to take a shower and call her back. My contractions seemed stronger, although still not very painful, after my cervix check. A shower sounded great.
Wow. Immediately after my shower, my contractions became much more intense and I could no longer talk or walk through them. I asked Davis to call Carla and Mary back, and they both decided to head over to our house. Around 10:00, they arrived. I was still chatty and excited between contractions, though during contractions I was all business.
I remember watching this (awesome) hippy dippy YouTube video (check it out) when I was pregnant, where this girl talked about how the contractions were just pressure and energy and not painful at all - and all I thought about from about 10:00 p.m. to 11:00 p.m. was "bull----." The contractions hurt. BUT not laying flat on my back in a hospital bed made them totally manageable. Sitting or laying still made me want to scream, but being able to move made all the difference in the world. During most of my contractions at this point I was standing up and I had the heels of my hands dug into my eye sockets until I saw stars and imagined I was flying through space - I don't know why, but it helped, and I'm really surprised I didn't have black eyes the next day.
By around midnight, the contractions were getting more intense, and Carla made the comment that I was now serious between contractions. I retreated to my little "cave" (bedroom) and everyone left me alone, except Carla and sometime Mary, who did this awesome thing where they put pressure on my back during a contraction.
Davis paced his nervous energy off outside the room, which was much better than having it around me. I started sitting on the toilet adjacent to our room during most of my contractions and that felt good. It was really nice to be able to do whatever felt good, and that's what I did. I forgot every thing I ever read in any book, I never took any childbirth classes, I just did whatever made me most comfortable. Check the time on this one - I had NO idea I was just an hour away from holding Henry!
At a little after 1:00 a.m., the midwives had set up a birth stool at the foot of my bed. I had started pushing - actually my body was pushing, I was making no conscious effort to push - a little and since sitting on the toilet felt good, they made the awesome decision that this is how I should deliver. Probably around 1:20, I moved to the stool and started pushing during contractions. Again, it was so great to just do exactly what my body told me to do, rather than having someone else tell me what and how to do it. The midwife told me that my bag of waters was bulging and that it would probably burst during my next big push. I was getting hot, so I asked Davis - who was rubbing my shoulders at this point - to get me a cold wash cloth. He went to find one, and during the next contraction, I pushed hard. My water broke just as predicted, but then my body kept pushing and out came Henry's head! And my body kept pushing - same contraction - and the rest of him came out! We were all shocked. Both the girls crowned forever and we all thought after my water broke, we would start the whole process of getting baby out. But he had other plans, precious boy. 1:34 a.m., Sunday, February 7th.
They placed him in my arms immediately and examined him while I held him.
After they cut his cord, we moved to the bed for me to deliver the placenta. I held Henry and just marveled and praised God and loved the fact that no one was taking him across the room to mess with him after all the hard work I'd done - I just got to keep him! He was so cute, he kept turning his head and licking his own arm and then making this face like that's not what I'm looking for! So I decided to see if he wanted to nurse, and oh my gosh, little five minute old 36 weeker just latched on and started nursing like a champ.
After he had nursed and I had delivered the placenta (and the midwives had magically cleaned up the whole room and were washing towels in the laundry room), Davis took Henry into the girls' room to wake them up and show them their brother. They got up and came to our bed, where we all marveled at him.
The midwives and Carla left around 3:30 a.m. and amazingly, the girls actually went back to bed. Davis slept on the couch. And I laid in bed and just stared at Henry until the sun came up. I prayed and prayed for this baby, and here he is.
A few days ago, we had God is So Good playing on iTunes, and Sophia said to me "God is so good, he gave us a baby brother!" Amen.
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