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A second home birth

 

*Disclaimer From Mom*
Pardon grammar and punctuation and spelling and any other structural errors. Writing about birth, much like experiencing it for real, is messy.

After purchasing two hospital tickets and getting two hospital rides with the births of my first two sons, we knew there had to be a better way to birth, and found ourselves on the path to homebirth. I had an amazing home-water birth with our 3rd son, and my amazing midwives.

My husband and I were pretty sure that we were done with three happy and healthy boys and I finally felt healed from traumatic births after an amazing experience. Apparently the adage is true—If you want to hear God laugh, just tell Him your plans. On April 23rd I found out we were expecting lucky number 4. I think shock pretty much sums up the feelings in the house. Naturally the shock faded and excitement followed. Other than having to deal with the questions of "Don't you know what causes this?" and "Oh, trying for your girl?" (as if we were trying at all!) and "When are you going to get her [me] fixed?"... I was really excited to be pregnant again.

I had a fabulous birth experience with my third son, but the first 30 weeks of my pregnancy was very "medicalized" as my care was done by an OB. A nice OB, but the idea that all pregnancies are just a second away from disaster was always unsettling, and even though I was transferring my care I felt pressured to do all the "routine" tests. I always felt like they were looking for a reason to classify me as high-risk. This time I was THRILLED to get my prenatal care AND have my birth attended by a midwife.

My pregnancy was easy and uncomplicated, and it was wonderful to have that be exciting, rather than waiting for the other shoe to drop. I declined almost all of the routine testing, choosing to rely on good health choices and the idea that listening to my body and following its cues would serve me best.

My midwife and her apprentice, were fabulous. Rather than telling me what I needed to do they provided me with information so that I could make informed decisions. I appreciated that they respected me as an educated adult, and treated me as such. I never felt as if they were talking down to me, as I had often felt in the care of OB's. Again, I don't mean to rail against obstetricians. I am grateful that they are trained in the case of emergencies, but often times I feel like the interventions they use, cause the emergencies that then have to be remedied. You can't set my house on fire, but call 9-1-1 and then expect me to be grateful the fire department put out the blaze, because no emergency would have occurred had you not set the fire in the first place. I didn't have any vaginal exams or cervical checks thru the whole pregnancy I didn't feel pressured to do anything I didn't want to, and there is something very freeing about having your body and your wishes respected without having your choices and your intelligence questioned.

We weren't entirely sure when I was due. We had a 2 week window, so we decided to split the different and say something like Christmas time. Well, the pregnancy progressed and things were great. Thanksgiving came and went and when the first week of December came, I felt relieved b/c at this point I knew we were safe for a homebirth. I tend to go a little long, so much before 37 weeks I wouldn't feel entirely comfortable at home. Luckily, going early wasn't going to be a problem.

December flew by with shopping, and Christmas decorating. We went and cut down our tree, and the boys were really starting to get excited about meeting "bug". We opted not to find out what this baby was, because really, after 3 boys what are the chances it was a girl? Christmas was here, and I was still happily gestating—though I was starting to get really excited to meet the baby. The thought that it was probably no more than 2-4 weeks away at this point was making me giddy.

For Christmas my mom got me a beautiful birth stone ring, and had the December stone put in for "Bug". It was really pretty, and I was sad that I was probably going to have to pop the stone out and have it replaced with Garnet for January, as it was December 30th and I had ZERO signs of labor. I know it is a silly thing to focus on, but I was very emotional. I think that should have been my first clue that labor was imminent. I am a strong believer that an emotional break down is the BEST predictor of labor! I went to bed that night (30th) expecting more of NOT going into labor the next day. I slept really well until about 4:15 a.m.

My first contraction hit, but I assumed it was just an isolated event, so I got up, went to the bathroom, and went back to sleep. I had a few more contractions but was able to sleep thru them, so naturally this was NOT labor! At 4:45a.m I got up again, because the contractions were getting more intense. I got up and walked around trying to get comfortable. I still didn't think I was in labor, but thought this might be prodromal labor, and I was oddly excited since this was the first sign I had. I knew they were close, but didn't have a clock in my room, so I didn't know how close—or how long they were lasting. I decided to check it out on a contraction timer website. I thought the contractions were too short to be real. Turns out that hypnobirthing is awesome and the contractions that I thought were only 20 seconds were more like 50—I was just able to zone out and really surrender to my body. They were also every 2 minutes.

It was 5:15 at this point and I decided I would try to go to the bathroom again. When I did, I noticed I was bleeding (nothing concerning, that's just how my labors progress). At this point I thought, well this is probably it, but I wasn't sure. I thought maybe I would start hard and heavy and then they would space out. But since my last labor was only 4 ½ hours I thought it prudent to let my midwives and doula know. My Doula lives about an hour south of me, so she got right in the car, b/c evidently she remembered my last labor as well.

The contractions got lower and more intense, and were steadily 2 minutes apart and lasting some period of time. I stopped timing them, because I was sure this was it, and I didn't need a clock to tell me how I was feeling. At 6:15 I thought I should probably get my midwives over. Everyone got to my house right around 6:30 a.m. The pool was set up and was still being filled. I was already in, because even halfway full, it felt AMAZING. Again, I hadn't decided on water birth, but in labor the thought of NOT being in the water made me want to cry and vomit simultaneously.

My older boys were still sleeping thru all the commotion. My mom was here in case we needed someone to distract the boys. We wanted them to be here, because we wanted them to know that birth above all is normal, beautiful, and not to be feared. We had prepared them with birth videos so they weren't scared but were prepared in case they felt overwhelmed or I felt hindered by their presence.

I labored comfortably, reminding myself that my contractions were bringing me closer to my baby. That my body was doing what it was made to do, and that above all else, no matter what faults of flaws my body had, it would not betray me.

Transition hit and I actually screamed. I didn't scream with my last birth, so the reaction kind of shook me. I remember having to talk to myself. I told myself that the contractions and the baby descending couldn't control me b/c they WERE me, and nothing that came from within could control me externally. I looked around at the faces of my amazingly supportive husband and three beautiful women who all told me I was doing great and that I could do it. Just having their faith and belief helped finish calming me down and with that I knew it was time to birth my baby. I knew at this moment I was walking the path that millions of women had carved before me.

My youngest son made his grand entrance at 7:39 a.m 3 hours and 24 minutes after my first contraction. I love music and compiled an extensive birth mix with everything from Miley Cyrus ("Don't Judge Me"), to Eminem, to Over the Rhine, to Lil' Wayne. I think my babies in addition to picking their own birthday, should also get to pick their own theme song.The last baby's was Greg Laswell's "What a Day". This baby couldn't be outdone, so he was born during two. MGMT's "Kids" and Tom Petty's "Have Love, Will Travel". PERFECT!!!!

He came out and was born into his daddy's hands. I thought it was a beautiful way to come into the world. Born into the hands of the man who supported me whole-heartedly during my pregnancies and my births. The man who didn't bat an eyelash, but researched and educated himself, when I told him I wanted a homebirth. The man who decided that what a real man does is support his wife and keep her safe even if it is unconventional, like homebirth is. How wonderful that the first touch my last baby felt was the hands of the most gentle and loving man I have ever known. What I hope for all of my boys is that they grow in the man my husband is. My oldest two came in shortly after the birth and were able to see their newest baby brother. My third was still sleeping so he met the baby a bit later.

He was 9lbs 2oz and I didn't tear at all. It's amazing what your body can do when left alone. No one "checked" me to tell me whether or not I "could" push. Nobody held my legs and counted for me. I didn't even really "push" I just let my body breathe and bear him down. The euphoria of looking at my baby was amazing.

Of course he was a boy… just like I had secretly been hoping… shh it will be our little secret.