Baby #3's birth story - more thoughts

After thinking about my blog for awhile, I realized that I left out some important details. I don’t want to forget these things so here they are.

Almost as soon as I learned that I was pregnant, I called my midwifery group that I'd used with #2. I requested the midwives that had been at his birth. I wasn’t thrilled with everything that had happened, but figured we could work it out. I couldn't get them, they were on vacation when I was due, but I was assigned two of the most experienced midwives in the group. As soon as I met them, I loved them. I had a great first visit with my primary midwife. We chatted and laughed and had a long visit. She was finishing my sentences. We were on the exact same page on everything important to me. I so looked forward to our visits. I could talk about pregnancy and birth and babies all day, every day (just ask my husband!) and finally had some people who were as excited about it as I was.

Fast forward several months. We had to move from Canada to the States. I was 30 weeks pregnant and devastated to lose my midwives that I’d bonded with so well. I told my husband that I HAD to find a new midwife ASAP and I would not give up on my plan to birth at home (unless there was medical indication to do so). That would just be too much. Before leaving Canada, I posted on a board on Facebook asking for recommendations for a midwife in the area that we would be living. I got only one response, but she recommended a few different midwives. I emailed all of them and got only one reply.

We met with her a few days after arriving here. I had anticipated a 45-60 minute meeting, as my appointments in Canada had been (and I was thrilled with that, compared to the 5-10 minutes that I saw my doctor for my first pregnancy!) She spent about 3 hours with us I think, just with us getting to know each other. I really appreciated her taking the time with us so that we could get to know each other, especially with so little time remaining in my pregnancy.

I liked her as soon as I saw her. The more we talked, the more we liked her. Then she mentioned church and we learned that we shared the same faith. I was thrilled. I’d left my home, my friends, my family, my church, my midwives, my country… I’d been pushed entirely out of my comfort zone, and here I was, sitting on a futon in this midwife’s office and feeling totally at home. God had definitely set up our meeting!

I had already basically written my birth plan. I found it funny and wonderful that the opening paragraph of my birth plan was said to me almost word for word by my midwife during our first meeting and she’d never read it. It talked about how I view the role of my midwife as similar to that of a lifeguard: to stand by the side and make sure everything is going okay, and jump in if there is a problem. Almost every point on my birth plan was standard care for her. I was thrilled to hear this.

So this is why I was so happy to see her when I was in labour :) I know that God had everyone there that was supposed to be there.

The second thing I wanted to record is this.

I struggled during the birth, as many birthing women do. As I birthed his head and shoulders, it felt like I was dying. My doula-mind was saying to me, “You feel like you’re dying. This is great! That means that the baby is almost here!” Meanwhile, my body was saying to me, “This is too much, I can’t do this!”

I was meditating on this. Why must we go through this process of feeling so close to death in order to bring forth life? Perhaps it was the memory of being in the water that spurred my epiphany. It was like a baptism for me. I went in a mother of two and emerged a mother of three. I went in broken, with memories of an intense birth, difficult delivery, and traumatic postpartum. I came out healed, with memories of another intense yet good birth, with no complications, surrounded by people I loved and who loved me. I can still remember what happened with my previous births, but the pain isn’t there when I think about it.

There is no less selfless act than to give up your life for another. In giving birth, I thought I was dying. At some point though, I stopped caring about that. I just wanted to make sure that he got out and was okay.

I had really worked during this pregnancy to practice self-hypnosis. I wanted to be able to get out of my own way. As Ina May puts it, to let my inner monkey do it. To stop analyzing every little thing and trying to figure out what I’m supposed to be doing and instead, just do whatever my body told me to do. I didn’t totally stop analyzing. I heard the midwife mention a purple line and knew what that meant. (I even wanted to ask for a picture so I could see but then another contraction hit and I forgot about it.) I felt sick and knew transition was coming. I knew exactly how the double hip press worked to open up my pelvis and take the pressure off my back. Yet this time, I was able to analyze all that and more and it didn’t bog me down. I still let my monkey do what it needed to do. I didn’t get in my body’s way. To put it another way, I died to myself (my thoughts, will, emotions) and just let God and my baby and my body work together to give birth. (Not that I didn’t still need reminders at times ;) )

You can laugh at me; maybe I’m making a big deal out of something that isn’t. However, there’s no denying that I feel different now. I felt totally different literally the instant that he was born. I now have a beautiful birth memory to cherish. I honestly can’t think of a single major thing that I would change if I could have a do-over. I know it doesn’t mean as much to everyone (at least they say it doesn’t) but it means a lot to me. You ask a 90-something year old woman what her births were like and she’ll tell you, in detail! Birth matters :)

Now the real work begins. Now I will die to my wants and needs every day for this wee one, at least for awhile. At least, I’ll do my best to do so :)

He's here!!! Baby #3's Birth Story!

This was my 3rd baby, 2nd homebirth, and 1st waterbirth (I’m into numbers LOL).

We are staying with my husband’s father and step-mom for awhile so the plan was to birth in their sunroom. The house is over 100 years old with old floors, except for the sunroom which has concrete under it so that’s where the birth pool was set up. (Someone commented at one point that considering the age of the house, it's quite possible that mine wasn't the first baby born in it! That was a neat thought.) In attendance were my midwife, her mom (an l&d nurse), her assistant, my husband, my mom, and my doula. My father-in-law and stepmom-in-law were in the kitchen adjacent to the sunroom. Our older two boys were in bed and slept through the whole thing.

I was at 39 weeks and 3 days when he was born. I had prodomal labour a week before he was born for 2 days so my mom decided to come (she lives 10 hours away). I started getting pressure in my back while on my way from one store to the next and started getting contractions in the 2nd store. My mom and I finished our shopping and went home. I was in a hurry to go. I kept hearing that with prodromal labour, and a 3rd baby, once it got going for "real", it'd probably go quick. I didn't want to be one of those women who birth in a department store bathroom. I wanted to be at home, in my warm tub of water, with my midwife.

My mom walked into the house and told Hubby that I was in labour. He came out and asked me what the contractions felt like. I answered, “different”. As in, different from the prodromal labour – that had been intense, but this was intense – strong contractions – but also a lot of pressure in my back and uterus which I recognized immediately from my first two labours.

I’m funny – I don’t get early labour! Even with my first, I woke up at 28 weeks in active labour. Contractions were 1.5-2 minutes long and 30-60 seconds between them. The L&D nurse said that was impossible... until she saw it on the chart. I was dilated to 3 by the time I got to the hospital about an hour later. Then I was induced at 9 days past my EDD and 3 cm and labour came on full force right away. With my second, I woke up at 4 am in active labour. Anyways, as soon as I said different, he knew what that meant.

He called the midwife and doula and started setting up the pool. I think the midwife arrived about an hour after I got home so 2 hours into labour. I had no awareness of the passage of time though, so I could be way off on that. (This was on purpose. I didn’t want to get hung up on “oh no, it took 3 hours to dilate 1 cm” or anything like that so I told everyone not to tell me what time it was and just didn’t pay attention to time.) I was SO happy to see her. It was like, "Okay, I can relax and have this baby now that she's here."



Midwife checking baby's hearttones. I'm contracting and working hard.

I hadn’t wanted any internal exams, but she needed to know whether to call her assistant to come, and as soon as she suggested it, I wanted to know where I was at so I agreed. I was 6-7 cm between contractions and 8 cm during contractions. Head well applied, bag of water bulging. I was so excited to hear this as I’d stalled at 7 cm both previous times, but as soon as I got past 7 cm, I went FAST (from 7-10 in 15 minutes with #1 and 7-10 in about 1/2 hour I think with #2).

Smiling between contractions - my last belly picture

I got right in the water as soon as it was ready. It was a very intense labour. Being in the water didn't help much during the contractions but did feel good in between. My mom had a hot water bottle on my back and she and various people (hubby, midwife, her assistant, and my doula all took turns) were doing the double hip press which felt amazing, almost totally relieved the pressure in my back.

I had practiced hypnobirthing during this pregnancy. It helped immensely during the braxton hicks and prodromal labour - I had NO pain at all during these when I did the self-hypnosis techniques. I did have pain when I didn't do the relaxation. It helped (to a lesser extent) during the actual labour contractions too. Last time around I was panicking and tensing up. This time, despite the intense pressure, I was much calmer. I definitely felt pain, but it didn't overwhelm me as much. The relaxation techniques worked very well between contractions too. Instead of spending the time between them in fear of the next contraction, I just relaxed and enjoyed the respite.

I started having an urge to push. My midwife asked if I had a sharp pain by my pubic bone and I did. She said not to push because I wasn't fully dilated yet so I just relaxed and waited. After awhile, my body was pushing on its own. It was neat to feel that as I’d never really had an urge to push with my first two – I was just told that I was fully dilated with a lip and I could push now so I did. This time, I couldn’t keep from pushing.

After pushing for a bit, my legs kept cramping. I fought it for awhile, not wanting to give up on my desire to birth on hands and knees (I birthed my first two on my back), but finally had to give up and flip over. At least in the water, gravity didn’t have the negative effect it would have had on land.

I pushed for awhile but didn’t seem to make much progress. My midwife checked me and I had a cervical lip (same as both my other births) so she moved it out of the way (according to Hubby - I remember her checking me but I don’t remember the lip) and then I could feel him moving. I thought I was dying and then thought well if I’m dying anyways, I might as well push him out first.

I kept saying owwwww and my wonderful midwife told me to say “out” instead. That helped a lot. She also said something like “You can keep yelling but you’ll just end up with a sore throat tomorrow. It’s better if you can channel that energy down and use it to push.” So I did what she suggested (I still had a sore throat the next day though).

When his head crowned, she reminded me to reach down and feel my baby. It was unreal. She reminded me again after his head was born to touch him. Then I pushed the rest of him out (thinking for sure this would kill me!) and she told me he’s here, bring him up to you. I was so out of it and grateful that she reminded me that I wanted to catch him myself and bring him up to my chest if my positioning allowed me to do so. If I was on hands and knees then she would have had to catch him and hand him to me. Because I was sitting in the pool, I could catch him myself :D

My doula from my 2nd's birth (who was unable to attend this one because I moved 10 hours away) asked me what it felt like to catch him myself, compared to having someone else catch him. I told her that with the first two, it was like I'd waited 9 months for Christmas only to have someone else unwrap my present for me. This time, I got to unwrap my own present. I loved it.


[Photo removed to protect the identity of my midwife]

He was born after just 5 hours of labour. I have no clue how long I pushed for.

He was COVERED in vernex! That is a creamy substance that protects their skin in the womb. It's more common to see lots of it on preterm babies. It doesn't need to be washed off, I just rubbed it into his skin and it helps protect his skin after he's born too. My first, I think, had very little at 10 days past EDD. My 2nd had none that I can recall at 39 weeks. This one was covered head to toe with vernex at 39 weeks and 3 days. That sure surprised me, I wasn't expecting to see that.

Immediately after he was born, I felt amazing. I’d done it! The water surrounding me kept me warm (I get so cold after birthing!) and I think it lessened some of the painful sensations that come after birthing.

His cord was kind of short so I had a hard time balancing him with his head above the water as the cord kept pulling. After a little bit, I birthed the placenta. They put it in a plastic bucket and floated it beside us until it was time to cut the cord. Hubby cut the cord and marveled again at how thick and hard to cut it is. His placenta was so little! I'd guess it was maybe 1/2 to 3/4 the size of my 2nd's (I never saw my 1st's placenta). My doula encapsulated his placenta for me - I haven't taken any yet though.

He nursed for a short while and then we got out of the pool. I sat beside it on a chair and put my feet up on the edge of the pool. They piled me up with a hot water bottle and blankets as I was shivering hard. My doula hand-fed me eggs and toast and my mom brought me some Evergreen Wheatgrass Juice.

Best wheatgrass in the world! Well, at least North America where it's distributed :D

Glowing!

After a bit, my father-in-law took the baby so I could move to the bathroom and into my postpartum herbal bath. Then the baby joined me. He wasn’t happy in the bath after a bit and kept rooting so I nursed him again. Everybody left hubby, baby and I alone for a bit and that was a special time.

Postpartum Herbal Bath

Then we moved to my bed where my midwife checked me for tears (none!) and did the newborn exam. He was 8 lbs even, 21 1/4” long, and had a 14 cm head. I was tucked into bed (it was about 6 am by this point, 3 hours after he was born) and had a good sleep, cuddling with my new baby.



Bliss

After my first birth, it took me about 2 weeks to get over the initial “I’m never doing this again!” feeling. It took 3 months to get to that point after #2 (in fact, I cried when I learned I was pregnant because I didn’t want to go through that again yet) and about 2 seconds after #3.  It was so wonderful and peaceful (despite my yelling – sorry ;) ). It was the first birth that I felt totally safe and was not upset with anything that happened. Nothing was done to me without my consent, I was fully supported, and my baby wasn’t taken away after. It was very healing and empowering.

Every time I walk into the sunroom, I think about it and remember how loved I felt during his birth and I feel it all over again. It’s a wonderful feeling :) Just looking at these photos, I want to drive over to my midwife's house and hug her and thank her for supporting me in a way that made it so special.

My own birth

I started out writing why I chose homebirth, but decided instead to write about my own birth first since it is important.

Why does my own birth story matter? Well, the first conscious memory that I have of birth was probably of my mom coming home from a birth as she used to go and help women in the church who would call her during labour. Sometimes they’d been stalled for several hours and the doctor was threatening cesarean. She’d go in, introduce herself as the mom’s pastor, and ask everyone to clear the room so they could pray. Then they’d pray or get out of bed and get upright or sip red raspberry leaf tea or Evergreen WheatGrass Juice. I remember one who was so tired after a long labour and was ready to have the cesarean. My mom (who has had 2 vaginal births and a cesarean) said, “You’re going to hate me for the next couple of hours, but you’ll thank me after. Now get out of bed.” She got her up and walking and that baby was born in less than an hour. Other times their own moms lived far away or were estranged so they’d call her to be there for them. I LOVED hearing these stories and seeing pictures of the new babies and families. I loved going with when she visited with them prenatally and postpartum.

But before all of that, was my own birth. I was there, I was present, and I’ve heard the story over and over, even if I don’t consciously have a memory of it. I DO believe that how a person is born matters and can affect their life (beyond just the immediate health issues that I talk about a lot on this blog.) How a mother tells her child’s birth story to them also matters. This is not to say that a difficult birth will inevitably scar them for the rest of their life, but I’ve heard mothers say – in front of that child – “It’s the most pain I’ve ever felt in my life.” “I thought I was going to die” or “I wanted to die.” “I never want to go through that again.” All of these are perfectly valid and it is good to process the birth, but please do it away from that child’s earshot. They don’t need to hear things that they won’t understand and may take responsibility for. Ie. “Wow. *I* caused my mother the most pain she’s ever experienced. *I* made my mom wish she were dead.” I digress…

My mother’s first birth was in the hospital. My older brother was born 2 weeks past his guess date. She arrived at the hospital with my father and my Aunt Karen, who is a registered nurse. My mom’s doctor had said she would be allowed in but the hospital said one support person only and no switching. So my mom refused to go in and sat in the family waiting room where my aunt helped her until she had to leave for work. She had an epidural after 24 hours of labour. The nurses changed shift and before going off shift, her first nurse gave her a dose of epidural but did not write it down. The next nurse came in and proceeded to get ready to give her another dose. She told her, “Um, excuse me, the last nurse just did that.” The nurse replied, “Well, it’s not written down,” and gave her another dose. Not surprisingly, my mother could not feel at all to push. So she got a terrible episiotomy (which later got infected).

Then she had to fight just to get her baby. This was 1983 and they used to stay in the hospital a lot longer than they do now so she was still there when her milk came in. It came in so she went down to the nursery. She pointed out her baby (who was hungry and crying – a nurse was holding him with her finger in his mouth, trying to calm him) and asked for him. She was told it was visiting hours and she could have him in 4 hours as no babies were allowed on the floor during visiting hours. Understandably, she freaked. “That’s MY baby and he’s HUNGRY and my BOOBS ARE FULL!!! GIVE ME MY BABY!!!” The nurse refused but the head nurse heard her all the way down the hall and around the corner and came to see what was wrong. She said “Give her her baby”. She called my dad, sobbing and unable to speak. He thought something had happened to the baby so he came rushing to the hospital. When he heard what had happened, he said, “That’s it?” I can totally relate to her. I may have tried to break down the nursery door if someone had tried that on me.

She was also roomed with another woman who had a very numerous and very loud family. At one point, they lost count how many people were in the room and were having to shout in order to hear each other. My dad went out and got the nurse and she asked everyone to leave.

Despite my brother being exclusively breastfed, my mom became pregnant with me when he was 6 months old. She did not want a repeat of what she had gone through before. She called up the hospital and asked, “Do you still have the policy of only one support person and no switching?” They answered yes so she sought out a doctor that would do a homebirth. He was from Holland, where most babies are born at home. He was very laid back.



The house I was born in.

I was born 3 weeks past my guess date. My grandma’s birthday was the day before and my mom had spent the day doing gardening and going for long walks, trying to get labour to start. It worked, but I wasn’t born until 3:12 am the next day.


My mom, 41.5 weeks pregnant with me (1.5 weeks to go!)

My mom called her parents to come over and they brought my Aunt Sarah (around 14 years old) with them. My grandma T was dressed up in her Sunday best and my grandpa T, who is colour blind and normally has his clothes picked out by my grandma, was wearing 3 different colours of shirt, pants, and tie. As my mom puts it, Sarah was the only one dressed how she should be for a birth – jeans and a t-shirt.

My dad’s dear parents (Gma and Gpa M) are/were very medically minded and were terrified at the thought of me being born at home. They were out of the country when I arrived.

My grandma started boiling water. She didn’t know what it was for, that’s just what you do at births! The doctor explained that it’s for hot compresses to help the perineum stretch and prevent tearing.

I was born right on my parents’ bed. The doctor handed me right into my grandmother’s church shirt covered arms.



My mom's parents and I

My mom was shocked when he announced that it was a girl. She’d SO wanted a girl that time but convinced herself she was having another boy so that she wouldn’t be disappointed. Not that my brothers were a disappointment! She was thrilled to have them and thrilled to have a daughter too J



Dr. Barel, me, my dad and mom.

I was 9 lbs, 4 oz and my mom had barely a tear that required no stitches.

My dad, big brother, myself, and my mom.

My mom writes:

“Right after you were born we woke Josh up to meet you and he said " whaz zat " pointing at you meaning if course what's that.  He was pretty fascinated by you. A real living doll.”

My big brother and I

My other grandparents called when their plane landed a few hours later. My grandpa T answered the phone. They asked if the baby had arrived yet and he said, “Yes! Right here at home!” Grandma M said “WHAT!?!?!? We’ll be right over.”

My dad's parents and I

She came over and got to give me my first bath. She asked the doctor how she’d know if it was too hot or cold. He said, “Well, if she turns red, it’s too hot. If she turns blue, it’s too cold.”

Grandma M and I

I spent the first night in my parents’ bed while they discussed my name. My mom’s grandmother’s name was Anna, as was my dad’s aunt. My dad’s mom’s name was Grace. They both liked the name Christine. They couldn’t figure out which names to use and then decided I could handle all three so they named me Anna Grace Christine. Anna means “full of grace.” They said I would need a double dose of grace in my life (and boy, were they right).

My mom and I (1 day old)

My Grandma T brought over chicken the next night for dinner. My mom also brought chicken for us in the evening after I had my secondborn at home :)

I love to hear my birth story told, especially when she says, “It was the most wonderful birth, just perfect.”

My mom writes,

“What a wonderful story!  You were a dream birth.  If everyone’s births were like that, people would have more babies.

You were such a beautiful plump baby.  Those eyes and cheeks...

The sight of you made people want to have babies.”