I assured her that Toby was late and I wouldn’t be having a baby until May. She told me that she didn’t mind if I went into labor at her Saturday night party, but I had to make it to her service Friday night, the Torah reading Saturday morning, and at least make it to dance with her once at her party Saturday night. I promised her I would.

Fast forward to the weekend of M’s bat mitzvah. I made it to Friday night services, where her mother expressed disbelief that I was “still here” and we ended the night with nary a contraction. M reminded me that I wasn’t allowed to go into labor until the next night (because I still had her morning service and the party!), and I assured her I would be there.

Her morning service went beautifully, and at lunch, M and her mother expressed that they were so happy I “made it” to the service. Now I could relax, enjoy her evening party, and then GO HAVE A BABY ALREADY. I laughed, assured them that I hadn’t felt a single contraction (and barely any Braxton-Hicks), and once again told them that I would be having this baby in May.

That afternoon, before the party, I put Toby to sleep in his big boy bed, and Keith and I went to cut his hair in the bathroom. After about a half hour, I briefly peeked in on Toby and he was sleeping peacefully, buried in covers. I finished cutting Keith’s hair and came in the bedroom to change for the party. Got changed, and went to wake up Toby, where I noticed that it wasn’t Toby under the covers – it was the dog.

I called for Toby – no answer. I went downstairs and called for him – no answer. Went into the other part of the house – no answer. By now I’m starting to panic. Checked the back door, and it was unlocked. I started moving in hyperspeed, running around the property, calling Toby’s name. I ran across the street (both of them), terrified that he’d been hit by a car or picked up by someone random (we live across from a gas station).

Nothing.

I ran back upstairs, too panicked to cry. Our roommate, Joyce, came out of her room and asked what was going on. Toby wasn’t in her room, and I ran into the bathroom to tell Keith he was missing. Joyce ran outside to look for him, I ran downstairs, and I see Joyce carrying him out of the shed. He was sitting on the tractor, pretending to drive it.

I lost it. Totally lost it, crying. It honestly took 10 years off my life.

Once I calmed down, I realized how sore I was. I was 9mo pregnant, running at full tilt for about 15 minutes, and I was HURTING. We all got dressed, and I resolved to take it easy at the party that night.

The party was lovely, and we had lots of fun socializing for cocktail hour. We go in to dinner, and my butt hits the chair to eat and I have a MASSIVE contraction – painful, full-belly, OMG-I’m-in-labor, I-remember-how-this-feels-and-I-can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this contraction. I had a bunch during dinner, where I’m getting pretty uncomfortable, and after dinner we went into the other room for dancing.

I did havdalah with the Hebrew school kids, and realized that during a less than 10 minute service, I had 4 contractions. Do the math. So I go to Keith, have him give me his phone, and start timing them. 3 minutes apart, at least 60 seconds in duration. We look at each other and start to laugh. My students kept coming up to us, trying to get me to dance with them (I did do the electric slide while in labor!), but I declined. They took this as an invite to dress me up in a tiara and boa.

By the time we were able to sneak out of the party at 10:30pm, I was having a hard time moving and talking through them. Still a steady 3 minutes apart. On the way home, we call Karen (my midwife) and tell her I’m in labor for real because she has to rustle up the team and drive an hour. Karen tells me to go home, drink a glass of wine, take a shower, and then sleep. I’m to call her when I can’t sleep any more. We also called my doula, Heidi, to warn her I might be having a baby in a few hours.

So I did what Karen said, and by about 1:00am (now Sunday morning) it becomes obvious that I can’t rest any more. I called Karen and Heidi again, and everyone (Karen and Laura – my midwives, Katie – the student midwife, and Heidi – my doula) ends up at the house around 2:30ish. Keith was filling the pool and I was getting ready to get in.

About this time, things get fuzzy. I remember doing a rotation of pool, bed, bathroom, birthing stool. Did it a few times, and Karen checked me right before dawn. She didn’t tell me my dilation, but expressed surprise at how quickly my contractions were coming but how slowly I was dilating. She told me I had a ways to go, but gave me lots of tools to get there. Sidelying seemed to be the best way to get me dilating, so I did a lot of that.

Through this whole time, everyone alternated shifts of pushing on my back during every contraction, one pushing while the others slept. In fact, everyone did this rotational sleeping thing that was brilliant – one would be with Toby, one with me, and two sleeping. I needed that constant counter pressure to relieve the back pain (I think it’s something that’s going to happen with all my labors, because it was right at the spot where my spondilo is, and I remember having it with Toby as well). I’m sure they were all sore by lunchtime, but they kept pushing every 3 minutes for what seemed like forever, and it was the only thing that relieved that pain.

I got discouraged about midday, and my wonderful cheerleaders kept me going, despite my wails of  “I can’t do this…” and “I should have scheduled a repeat c-section!” and (Heidi’s personal favorite) “Why did I think this was a good idea??” I had expected a baby by lunchtime, and it wasn’t happening. Mentally, things were not going well. I had to keep repeating “the only way out is through” over and over to keep my mind from going elsewhere.

Sometime in here, my water broke in the pool – how convenient!

Late afternoon/early evening comes around and it’s obvious that something has stalled, because we’re working at over 20 hours of labor. Karen says I only have a lip of cervix left that wasn’t cooperating, and starts massaging it to get it out of the way. She must have been doing that for an hour, and I think we were both getting frustrated, when I shifted a bit, felt the strangest POP in my pelvis, and all of a sudden, I REALLY needed to push.

I pushed EVERYWHERE. Sidelying, on the birth stool, in the shower – I have never made so much noise in my life. I was really surprised at how low I had to go to really effectively push. I really needed to be upright while pushing – standing or squatting with help was the best. Through the whole labor, I never wanted to be on all fours, which was funny – I’d assumed I would spend most of my labor that way.

We ended up in the bathroom, with Keith holding me up under my arms while I bore down as hard as I could and made weird mooing noises. Three hours of pushing later, Karen starts telling me to put my hand down and feel baby. I refused for the next ten minutes because I was convinced that I wouldn’t feel baby’s head or that I would be disappointed at how far along I was. I was beaten at this point, convinced I would never have my baby vaginally (even though I was pushing).

As she started crowning while I was on the birthing stool (to give Keith’s arms a rest), I started feeling a horrible burning right near my clitoris. I started to panic, and yelled things like “OMG, my clitoris! It’s ripping me apart!” and started thinking horrific things about tearing up instead of down. Everywhere else felt like it was stretching fine, but for some reason my clitoris was BURNING. I was in agony.

A couple pushes later, baby came out and we realized why – she had had her left arm up near her face, and her left hand on her right cheek the whole way through the birth canal, so I actually birthed her head AND her arm, adding quite a bit to the crowning circumference. Perhaps that weird POP that I had felt right before pushing was her arm coming down just enough to fully dilate me, and perhaps that was why the labor took so long.

When she came out, there was a HUGE flood of water that soaked poor Karen (and I think Laura, too). We were all surprised at how much water had stayed behind Naomi – it totally ruined the two books I’d been using to prop myself up on the birthing stool. I remember laughing and laughing. I think all of us were.

Karen caught her, wrapped her up quickly, and gave her to me. I was in disbelief. I think I said “OMG, I just pushed out a baby! I just had a baby in my bathroom!” a million times. Eventually, someone asked if it was a girl or a boy, and we all had a laugh because I was just so amazed that she was HERE!

So baby girl Naomi Noa Eiser was born at home into the hands of a wonderful CPM, at 9:34pm, after 26.5 hours of labor, 3.5 of them pushing. I had told Karen that I wanted a labor that was half the length of my son’s labor (53 hours) and I got it – just by the skin of my teeth!

Keith cut the cord after the placenta was out (which I barely noticed), and I walked (ON MY OWN TWO FEET!) back to my very own bed with my beautiful little girl. Toby woke up just in time to see us come in and hung out, getting to know his new sister. He’d been wandering in and out through the birth, and had fallen asleep while I was pushing.

I had no tears, only a couple of skid marks (Karen said I was Superwoman!), and I was able to get Naomi right to the breast and nursing. Keith made ravioli for Kate and I, and we all basked in that after-birth glow as Karen, Katie, and Laura did the newborn exam and cleaned up.

I am still amazed that I was blessed to have Nomi at home. When I held her in my hands, I realized that through my pregnancy, I had visualized my HBAC becoming a transfer to the hospital. I had never truly believed that I would be able to have her at home successfully, but I’d been given everything I’d wished for and more. Her birth was so healing to me – I’m still in awe over my body’s ability to initiate labor and finish it, all on its own, with help from amazing women who trusted me to be strong the whole time. I’m amazed that Naomi and I worked together the whole time, and I feel such close bond with her. We are truly a wonderful team, from day one.

I am humbled by and thankful for my birthing team – Karen, Laura, Katie, Heidi, Keith, and even Joyce and Toby. Each of them contributed to our success in their own way, and though they’ll all deny it, I couldn’t have done it without them.

And you know what – despite my statements to the contrary during labor – I’d do it again. In an instant. It was so.totally.worth it.

Sara

I battled a few days between anxiety over when things would start, and how much I was doing (and not doing) to help things along. My body gave me gentle reminders; on days when I was not very active I would have the most show and practice labor, the following day if all was quiet and I tried taking walks and upping my activity things stayed quiet. After a few days fighting my brain and reminding myself that labor would come with NO HELP from me, I settled down and relaxed. If my body didn’t seem to be getting “busy”, I would take it as a day of rest and relax.

As the week progressed I continued having show, and noting my cervix feeling more and more open. Dorian was still spinning, changing positions and figuring out where he wanted to be for the big show.  I did pretty well not getting impatient, being thankful that every cm gained quietly was less time to spend on the hard stuff.

Oct 13th I had my 40 week midwife appointment. Everything was normal, I was still measuring quite small at 35cm. I refused a cervix check, being satisfied with my own findings for the time being. (Of course my midwife was not pushy at all, simply offered as a matter of course) After that my mom, Ray, and I headed up to a baby supply store up in Vista that I knew had cloth diapers. On the drive home I had a couple contractions but nothing terribly noteworthy. Had some lunch at home and then I headed out for a nice long walk. Came home and had a good nap. The contractions continued that evening, and my mom and I went for another walk and enjoyed the halloween decorations going up all over the neighborhood.

Shanna (my best friend and labor support) called and asked that if anything was progressing at all she be notified, as she was planning on driving to Long Beach in the morning and had a strong feeling if she went she’d only have to turn right around and drive down to us. I slept fitfully that night, waking up to 2-3 painful contractions an hour. I got up for a bit at 3am as I was pretty uncomfortable in bed, and after a bit of milling about downstairs called Shanna wondering when she might prefer to leave to avoid traffic, and promising to keep her updated. I went back to bed, but again sleep was pretty crappy past the first hour. In the morning Anthony headed to work, and I went ahead and asked Shanna to come down and join us. I knew it wasn’t moving fast, but I felt like it was moving.

We enjoyed a fairly quiet day, the contractions staying roughly 10 minutes apart for most of the day and nothing I could not easily breathe through. Could still talk and walk with them, although it was not preferred! I took a walk with Shanna in the afternoon, and then retreated upstairs for a shower and a nap as I was feeling a bit like a watched pot with all the family here and not too much action to report. Again I got about an hour of sleep before contractions returned. After dinner I went for another walk with my mom, and then we settled in for some TV and lots of girl talk. I continued having slightly more intense contractions and we went to bed well after midnight. Again, I got an hour or two of decent sleep before being in bed was just unbearable.

I came down and wandered in the dark a bit, as Shanna was asleep on the couch. After a while I woke her, wanting to clear out some of the bigger toys in preparation for the birth pool/air mattress being set up in the living room. Unsure of what to do with myself (I definitely wasn’t ready to drag people out of bed and set the pool up) I headed up to shower again. I decided I may as well make a last attempt at sleep. I saw Anthony off to work after showering, and then laid down. This time I only lasted about an hour and a half laying down (switching sides after each contraction because it seemed to put an extra 10-15 mins in between them if I didn’t stay in one position too long) before they just got too uncomfortable in bed. I would rub furiously at my lower back trying to give myself some counterpressure and moan a bit, not fun at all. So up I got.

Anthony had scheduled his leave to begin at the end of the workday on the 15th, and figuring he’d be out of work the next two weeks any way and there would be no other false alarms (if this ended up one), so I went ahead and called him home around 9am. He had joked about how he was so excited about this drive home, because he planned on speeding recklessly and using the “my wife is having a baby!” excuse on any cops if he got stopped. I pointed out that around here that may not go over so well, as we have alot of military and what do we do but have babies? *laugh* And you know, I wanted my children to still have a father post-birth. He kept it to a meandering 100mph. (Or so he claims…)

I called my midwife after that and let her know things were progressing. I had a good contraction for her on the phone, in case there was any doubt left in me if this was “it” or not. We were planning on setting up the pool in the next hour or two and she asked that I call her back then, unless I felt I wanted them there sooner.

As we ticked down to about 5 minutes between contractions I hopped in the pool. (This being around 11am the morning of the 15th) I was still handling things rather well, they definitely got my attention but I was still alright on my own for the next hour, ooooooo’ing and ohhhhhh’ing and ahhhhh’ing my way through, swaying my hips or thrusting them. Each one seemed to have 5-6 short peaks rather than one big one, a bit of a pulsing sensation. I thought of laboring with Ray, just barely into active labor and having minute long pit contractions with about 15-20 seconds of lesser pain, but not NO pain in between, and being told that I just “have a fast contraction pattern”. My ass! Here I was well into labor and still having a few minutes of peace between each one, able to relax, talk, laugh, and just feel pretty darn normal.

I checked myself at some point in the pool and felt Dori’s head just beneath a gooshy layer of amniotic sac. It was very cool, and so encouraging. Around 12:30-1pm I had my mom call the midwives, as the time between contractions was shortening to 2-3 minutes and I was needing to clutch onto someone in the midst of them. Shanna, Anthony, my mom all took turns with me. I think this is around the time I asked that Ray be put to bed for his nap. (He was 2 at the time)

The midwives arrived at 1:30pm, and things went pretty quick from there. I was pretty vocal with each contraction at this point. La Shel checked me in the pool and found I was a stretchy 7cm. Not sure of the station but lord knows the child was DOWN there. I was also getting a liiiittle bit pushy at this point. The midwives wanted me out of the pool for a bit to get fresh water put in and because they prefer moms not stay in the water too long (and had told me this before the birth although I can’t remember when, but I’m sure they did) as things progressed a bit faster being mobile. So out I went and I was not too thrilled by it, but I had also thought I was a little further into transition and so moving things along a little sounded good too. I said I wanted to try sitting on the toilet so we slooowly made our way to the bathroom, me clutching onto Shanna’s back and having 2-3 contractions just to get the ten steps there.

Anthony came into the bathroom briefly to see what was up, and Shanna tried to step away and let him have some time with me but I knew he was starting to get a little distressed by my noise and all the commotion. Just as she stepped out a contraction started I all but pushed him away and managed to say, “No, Shanna!” and made a grab for her. So she came back and Anthony took off to grab Ray, who was wakened by all the yelling. (If he’d even slept at all, I don’t know how long he was up there.) My “ohhhh”s and “ahhhh”s had become “AHHHHHH”s and “OHHHHHH”s, although I did manage to keep the tone lower (sometimes with suggestion from my support people) to avoid any screaming. I wanted off the toilet so we decided on the birth ball in the hall near the kitchen. It felt pretty good but it became pretty clear I was pushing with contractions here so La Shel asked that I move to the air mattress quick to get checked before I started pushing in earnest.

Again, this took a couple of contractions, but we made it and found I was complete! Only 20 minutes after the midwives arrived at 7cm. (Which I’d like to think would account for all the bellowing, thank you very much.) At some point in here Anthony had taken Ray for a walk up to the park. He’d tried bringing him downstairs and Ray wanted to come see me, but every time I started yelling he would get scared and hide his face in dads shoulder.

So I digress, they checked me and immediately grabbed an amnio hook and started talking about breaking my water. I closed my legs up quick, able only to say “nooooooo!”. Jamin got down in front of me and explained quickly that the bag of water was really bulging and might be making the urge to push stronger at this point. She said also that I could push against the bag quite a while but it may slow down the baby coming. So I agreed and they broke it right away.

So the pushing begins! The pool had been emptied but was by no means full again. For a few minutes (entirely to appease my desire to get back in the pool and not in preparation for it actually becoming a reality) my mom continued filling the pool so I could get back in for the birth. I tried hands and knees but kept squatting back with every push, sitting on the babies head is not the best way to get him out! I was not terribly comfortable anyways. So I tried side-lying, and that’s what we stuck with. They tried to keep me pushing slowly to avoid tearing too badly, but it was SO hard. I’m a pretty strong pusher and my body was taking no prisoners, I was pushing whether I wanted to or not and there was no half-assing it. I could either not push (very hard, lots of “blowing out the candle”) or push like the dickens. So we went back and forth, go ahead and push, then wait hold it right there wait wait stretch stretch and then relax. Up until the last push or two that birthed him he turtled right back in there between contractions. I thought before hand that having that happen would really really discourage me but in the moment it was kind of a relief.

I was able to look down with a mirror and see his fuzzy head, and feel the squished up patch of skin that was emerging. Just a moment later (and wow, did pushing ever hurt. HOOOOLLLYYYYYY CRAP guys, that burning/stinging SUCKS) and his head was out, it was so cool feeling his shoulders pop down into the heads previous location, and I must say alot more comfortable. Another small push (same contraction) and his shoulders came easy, and La Shel told me to reach down and grab my baby. Some of the sweetest words I have ever heard in my life! So I reached down and grabbed him, although they had to slow me down because his legs were still in there! One last little “umph” and he slid out, and my mom loaned a hand as I brought him to my chest. There really are no words for how amazing it was in that moment.

He gave a couple little squawks but really didn’t cry much at all. The cord was once around his chest, which I know scared my poor Shanna a bit but it wasn’t compressed or tight at all. There was ALOT of cord, and the placenta came flying out hot on Dorian’s heels just a few moments later. A smaller chunk had seperated from it, and that took a little bit of pushing/coughing to come out, but out it came. The next 20-30 mins I just lay there holding onto my boy. Just a few minutes after the birth Anthony returned from the park with Ray, their timing could not have been more perfect.

(For those wondering Anthony and I both knew and accepted that while he was comfortable with our birth plans, he was not keen on being present as he gets pretty distressed. He ended up being around for almost the whole labor, and he was so supportive and loving and relaxed it was just fantastic. The whole environment was 100% better for him, not just me.)

So at 2:25pm, weighing in at 8lbs 8oz and 21 3/4″ long Dorian entered this world. After 2 days of gentle labor at home, roughly 6-8 hours of that being active labor, and one hour of crazy omg transition/pushing, I gave birth to my baby boy right here in my living room, on an air mattress. I ended up with two tentative due dates, one Oct 5th, by a 16 week dating ultrasound and fundal measurement that seemed supportive of that date, and Oct 12th, by last menstrual period. Towards the end of the pregnancy I decided for my sanity to go by the later date of the 12th. Well Dorian was born without a speck of vernix, loooooong fingernails, and very pruny hands and feet. La Shel marked him down as gestating 41 weeks 3 days, which I agree with. I do bake them long, but it was nice not feeling like the days were just dragging on and on, counting and worrying as I got later and later. He came right at the perfect time, when he was ready, with no coaxing at all.

Nastassja

I guess life has a way of turning things upside down on you and it gave me possibly the only birth experience that could have shaken up my world view sufficiently that I would end up changing my views on birth so dramatically.  After only a few hours of hard labor, rapid dilation to 8 cm, my darling daughter somehow managed to turn herself from head down to feet down, the cord prolapsed, she went into distress and an emergency c-section was done.

It all happened quickly, and I was put under general anesthesia, so I barely had time to register any fear.  We were lucky that it was a busy weekday morning and another surgery was about to begin, we didn’t have to wait for an operating room to be assembled.

After her birth I mourned for the experience I had planned for, seeing my baby born, getting to discover for myself whether she was a girl or a boy (instead of groggily asking a nurse in recovery), and holding her newly born self in my arms.  I missed her first hours and barely remember our first meeting.  I had no idea how important those things were to me until I did not get them.

In the months after Roxy’s birth I read hundreds of birth stories on the internet.  I searched for someone who had experienced what I had.  I searched for explanations to what had happened.  I felt that somehow my body had been at fault and I wanted to know if I should just schedule a cesarean birth for my next baby.  I found the women who had cesareans who were upset and angry about them and at some point came across a recommendation for Nancy Weiner Cohen’s book, The Silent Knife.  I read it and then more and more books, Gentle Birth Choices, and the Spiritual Midwife, and The Thinking Woman’s Guide, I read everything I could get my hands on.  Eventually, I posted on the Midwifery Today forums about my fears that my body had somehow caused Roxanne’s birth to go as it had.  The midwives there reassured me, and made me see that there was nothing wrong with me, it was just bad luck.

I began to see how much different our experience could have been if we had been accompanied by a doula, so I started to take steps to become trained myself.   I ended up being a few weeks pregnant with Erik when I took my doula training class.  I attended a few births during my pregnancy, but spent most of my effort getting myself ready.  I took a comprehensive out-of-hospital childbirth class with the most wonderful, experienced, and loving teacher who really helped me to gain confidence.  I practiced the self-hypnosis techniques she taught us and did yoga, anything I could to be ready.

Before I had even become pregnant with Erik I had been in contact with several local home birth midwives and the one standalone birth center in my area.  The birth center wasn’t allowed to do VBAC or it would likely have been my first choice, but I’m glad now that it wasn’t because I think it ended up being perfect for me to stay home.  The midwife I chose was incredibly supportive and had no concerns over my VBAC status.  She understood that I wasn’t really anymore likely to have an emergency situation develop than any other mom, so she treated me like she would everyone else.  Vigilantly watching out for any sign of something outside the norm, but trusting that more than likely everything would be just fine.

That’s not to say that there weren’t fears and issues with my planning a home birth for this baby.  Obviously, I know better than anyone how quickly things can go wrong, but because of everything I had learned I still felt more comfortable giving birth at home.  I knew that if I went to the hospital I would be required to wear monitors constantly and that I’d be surrounded by people who were afraid.  I talked with my midwife about how she would handle a complication and timed the drive the hospital, only seven minutes, less time than it takes to prepare the OR.  Ultimately though I just felt that everything was going to be fine and the more I practiced my self-hypnosis scripts and listened to affirmation the less I thought about any of these fears.

Finally, my birthing time came on October 28, 2003.  I had been having some early labor in the wee hours of the morning, but wasn’t really recognizing what was going on.  When I got up in the morning I had some show and checked my own cervix, it was about 4 cm, but again at the time I wasn’t realizing that this was really the beginning.

My sister came over with an early lunch and I had been having some surges as we sat and talked.  She was noticing that they were getting my attention and I was in the process of telling her that these were good contractions, but I wasn’t getting excited yet when my membranes ruptured midsentence.  Okay, maybe I should get excited!  I called my midwife, doula, husband, mom to let them know we were going to have a baby.  I told my midwife I’d see if contractions started up and call her back.  After three strong ones in 10 minutes, I realized it was time for her to come.

I remember sitting in the rocking chair while I waited for everyone to arrive, having a strong contraction and thinking “ouch, that sucked maybe I really can’t do this”.  Then I started listening to a script on my headphones and moving around the house, and I never felt that way again for the rest of the birth.  After that it just seemed powerful, like lifting a really heavy weight, intense and requiring concentration, but not painful.

My labor progressed smoothly, my team arrived and the tub was filled.  The midwife monitored me, but mostly just sat quietly to the side.  My mom sat in the corner of my bedroom, she was supposed to take notes, but she mostly just watched.  My sisters came in and out quietly, they were attending to Roxanne downstairs.  My doula took care of my needs.  My husband just stroked my head.  I moved around the bedroom for awhile, using the ball, leaning over the dresser, putting a foot up on the bed.  I felt total freedom to work with my body and it was so much easier than it had been with Roxanne, just laying in the bed suffering.

Eventually I wanted to get into the tub and I asked my midwife to check me, I didn’t want to get in the water too soon.  She told me that she could tell that it was fine, but did what I asked anyway and found my cervix to be 6 cm open.  The water was marvelous and I went further into my trance state as my body finished opening.  I think I labored for about an hour more in the tub before I felt my body beginning to bear down with the surge.  The midwife asked if I wanted to be checked or offered to check me, I’m not sure which.  She found that I had a small lip and helped to push it out of the way.

From then on I just let my body guide me as I pushed.  I would feel for his head as I pushed and could tell what was helping it to move.  My team quietly encouraged me and gave me new ideas for positions.  A second midwife arrived and she helped me push by playing towel tug-of-war with me.  It was hard work, but eventually I could feel that he’d come down and was staying down.  I got a little discouraged because it still seemed like there was just so much skin still to get past.

My doula suggested I get out of the tub, so everyone helped me to move onto a birth stool right next to the tub with my husband right behind me on the bed to give me support.  This helped tremendously because now with a mirror I could see how close I really was.  After a few more contractions on the stool, and a total of about 2 hours of pushing, Erik was born.  He had his hand up next to his good-sized head, so now we all understood why I had to push so hard!  Suzanne had me take my baby and I cried that I had done it.  I wrapped my arms around Erik, and my husband wrapped his arms around both of us.   After the placenta was delivered we moved to the bed, but my baby never left my arms.  I had missed out on that time with Roxanne, and I was going to relish it this time around.

Heidi
I am primarily mother to Roxy and Erik. In my spare time I am passionate about birth and helping women to have positive birth experiences.
http://mothers-choice.blogspot.com/

The 27th was Thanksgiving. We went to my moms for dinner and ate at about 2:30pm. We left at 20 to 7pm and came home. I was tired and just over done. About 8pm, I had a snack (popcorn) and Jason and I just relaxed. We were discussing Black Friday as he had planned on going out early in the a.m. to get a few things. We were making our list, I bought a few things online so he didn’t have a ton of things to shop for. Everything was fine and I was still pregnant and planning on being pregnant.

We decided to head to bed so he’d get some sleep and I was tired anyways. Went to bed at 11pm, put in a DVD of Golden Girls to watch while we fell asleep. At 1130pm, I started having contractions. They were stronger then my previous ones. I waited it out, I didn’t pay attention to how long they were or how frequent. After about 5 painful ones in a row, I woke Jason up and told him I didn’t think he was going to be heading out.

He jumped up immediately and asked if I was sure. I assured him I was. So we canceled the alarm and headed back into the living room. We decided to kill time and do some more shopping online. By this time we were able to get the prices.

I started timing my contractions, they were staying steady at 40-50 seconds every 7 minutes. Then once they got to 1+ minutes and were 4-5 minutes apart we called my midwife. She said she was on her way.

Jason filled the tub (this was about 2-3am) and I hopped in. It felt great during this time and contractions. We put in a movie to keep ourselves occupied. Golden Girls wasn’t on Lifetime anymore so in went “Groundhog Day”. I wanted something stupid to watch that I could listen to but not have to pay attention to.

While I sat in the pool, Jason used my computer to time the contractions. I’d tell him when they started and when the peak ended. Breathing through them and relaxing as much as I could in the water.

Once they started to become 4-5 minutes apart, I told Jason to call Kathi. This was about, 3:30am. He called her and she said she’d get her stuff together and be on her way. In all honesty, time was nothing to me. I have to ask Jason right now as I write this to know what times certain things happened.

Kathi showed up what seems like forever later. I highly doubt it though. Maybe 30-40 minutes later. By this time, I was a prune but did not want to leave the tub. The water was helping me relax and get through the contractions. I wasn’t in transition yet. Jason put in another movie “The Road to Wellville”, another one I could listen to but not have to pay attention to. I had to pee a lot, that was the strangest thing to me haha. The hardest part before I hit transition was having contractions while in the bathroom. Moving was becoming harder and harder as the contractions became longer and stronger. So going to the bathroom was becoming more of a pain then It should have been. Once she got there and the first time I went pee after she arrived, she checked me. I was 5cm and D’s waters were bulging. So we were getting somewhere.

About 4:30am, Katie, my midwife’s student showed up. They finished preparing all their supplies and Katie started writing down everything that was happening. I spent time on the couch, probably an hour and a half. Constantly going pee in between the contractions. I still am not sure how long they were lasting and how far apart they were. They did get a lot closer and stronger, I never asked though.

At about 5am a little after, Jason and I got into the tub. I could no longer sit on my contractions. I started kneeling and Jason rubbed my back. He honestly helped me get through this whole process. Without him, I don’t think I would have held out. We spent the next hour and a half to two hours in the tub. Drinking water and emergen-C.

The next few hours played out the same. I finally hit transition and the pain was something I wasn’t prepared for. I mean, I was but not completely. The contractions were back to back. I couldn’t stay in the tub anymore. They hurt so much more in the water then they did on land. So I went and laid on my side in our bed. Jason was behind me rubbing my back and coaching me to breathe through my nose and out my mouth. I was shaking through them because of how hard they were. I stayed in the bedroom for an hour. With Kathi and Katie, checking on me every once and awhile. Laurie the other midwife was there also, but I don’t remember her coming in while I was on the bed.

I could no longer stand laying on my side, so I tried to move back into the living room. The contractions would only let me get so far. I got just outside our bedroom door and spent probably another good 10-15 minutes standing there through the contractions. Breathing in my nose and out my mouth. Kathi, Katie and Laurie standing there encouraging me and telling me I was doing wonderfully.

Kathi told me the next time I had to go pee, she wanted me to have at least 3 contractions in there. So I had to sit through 3 painful contractions on the toilet. I could have screamed, it was the most uncomfortable position ever for me. Jason helped me up and I made my way back to the living room. By this time, we shut the t.v. off and Jason put on the Foo Fighters for me. Kathi had me lay on the couch again so she could check me. I was 7 almost 8 cm dilated and D’s head was extremely low and the waters bulging.

The contractions in transition hurt so much in the water I opted out of the tub. The only comfortable position for me was on my knees. So Katie suggested I lay at the end of the couch and kneel over it. I was to the point in my contractions I wanted to push but Kathi could still feel my cervix covering and not just a lip. She said I could push if I felt the pressure/need to. So I did. Jason sat on the floor next to me encouraging me. My right leg, well hip/butt area kept hurting, like it was going to give out. So he rubbed that for me. He and Katie also kept putting cold wash cloths on me because of how hot/sweaty I was. I refused to drink water for a little while because I felt so nauseous the whole laboring process. I did throw up once, but that was it.

Jason was able to finally get me to drink more emergen-C . The urge to push push was finally there. I let Kathi know and she told me to go with it. So I did. It took about an hour and a half of pushing before he was out. I remember seeing Jason’s reaction to his head starting to come out. “Wow” and this excited look on his face. It helped me know that I could continue because at that point in my mind, D was our last kid haha. Jason’s reaction and encouragement helped me finish pushing.

D’s head was finally born, she had me pause for a second and then push the rest of him out. At 1:47pm November 28th, 2008 D was born, at home. He came out crying and I instantly started to cry myself. I turned around and they immediately handed him to me. Jason ran into his nursery to grab more receiving blankets and less then 2 minutes of D being out, I pushed out his placenta. Jason cut the cord and took D so they could clean me up and help me into our bed.

D was immediately handed back to me. I didn’t tear except for one small scrape like a papercut.

They checked him out and weighed him. 7lbs 14oz and 22 inches long. Everything was perfect. He was so alert and calm.

I am so happy with how his birth experience turned out. I had moments where I wanted the epidural and I didn’t think I could make it through. Jason and Kathi reminded me that I could and I did. I’m so proud of myself, so happy. Our future babies will be born at home as well. This was the best experience ever. His birth gave me hope and power to know that if I set my mind to it, I can do it.

Marisa
I’m a 23 year old mama of 2 wonderful little boys and the wife of an amazing guy. I love to take photos and sew both I don’t think I’m very good at, but it doesn’t stop me from loving them. I have piercing’s and tattoos but I’m a shy, laid back, easy going kind of person. I stay at home with my 2 boys and love it. I am also pro-natural birth, breastfeeding, co-sleeping and baby wearing. I also advocate home birth. I’m just not your very good Suzie Homemaker!
www.mamaneedsahobby.net

I was induced simply because my OB/GYN said I was “overdue”… I was just 40w 6d. Mason was posterior, and I was stuck in bed with an epidural and the million and one wires connecting my body to various machines — the typical hospital birth scenario. My doctor declared CPD and FTP after stalling at 4 cm for 4 hours.

The cesarean was cold and impersonal. It was a traumatic experience. The doctors were busy gossiping, I was shaking uncontrollably, I felt ignored and belittled. The doctors never said “congratulations”, in fact I didn’t even know they had left the OR until I was suddenly being wheeled out of the room to be taken to recovery. Once there, I cried for my son… everyone got to see him but me, I was an invalid in bed. I didn’t get to see Mason until 3 hours after he was born, because I was passed out in recovery.

When I finally saw him, I didn’t feel that bond everyone told me about. I didn’t even know if he was mine or not–I never saw him leave my body. The cesarean ruined our first moments together. I didn’t think, “that was all worth it”, I wasn’t grateful for the cesarean. Already I knew I could have had him vaginally. I knew my cesarean was unnecessary.

Fast forward 19 months later–after one stressful and emotionally draining year of trying to conceive, we found out we were pregnant with our second child. We were due April 24th 2009, and over the moon with excitement. I immediately looked into my birthing options–A birth center or a homebirth with a midwife.

I soon found out that the birth center couldn’t take VBAC’s due to “liability issues”. They could only take me at the hospital across the street, something I knew I didn’t want. I was afraid that I would somehow be bullied into another cesarean section. The other option was a homebirth, which sounded lovely, but I wasn’t sold on it right away. It wasn’t until I was nearing the end of my 1st trimester that I suddenly turned to my husband Jason and said, “I want a homebirth”. We were sitting on the sofa watching TV. It just came to me out of the blue… it felt right. “Okay”, he said.

I envisioned a beautiful homebirth of a baby girl. I knew she was a girl from the start. I even had dreams about her well before the ultrasound. I called the midwife I had met a while back when still TTC, Joni, and told her we were finally pregnant, and indeed going with a homebirth.

The rest is history.

—-

On Thursday, April 23rd, Joni came over for my 40 week appointment, and I told her the whole time she was there I was having lots of Braxton Hicks. They weren’t painful at all–just tightening. She said, “Maybe that means I will be seeing you later!” I told her, “Yeah right!” I had been having Braxton Hicks since 20 weeks, so this was nothing new, plus I was already convinced I was going to go past my due date anyway.

The Braxton Hicks continued throughout the night, and a few of them woke me up from my sleep. Friday at around 5:30 in the morning I noticed they were much stronger. They weren’t very painful, but they just felt different. They had lots of pressure and the pain radiated from front to back. I was getting hopeful, but remember thinking, “Yeah right, what are the odds I will go into labor on my due date..”

Then the diarrhea started–I swear I must have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. At that point I had a feeling something was up. I got up and walked around, the contractions didn’t go away. I had a feeling this really was it, but at the same time I was in denial that my body was actually going into labor on it’s own. I didn’t want to get Jason’s hopes up, so I didn’t tell him. He asked me what was wrong but I told him it was nothing.

We got Mason up and had our typical morning routine. The contractions were coming anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes apart, but I could still walk and talk through them. I finally told Jason I was having some contractions, and I thought something was going on, but not sure. I told him maybe he should stay home, since I thought something was up. He decided to go to work, but told me to call if anything was happening. Looking back, I think he was in denial, as was I.

About an hour after Jason left, the contractions were suddenly getting more painful and more regular. They were about every 10 minutes apart, with some weaker ones in between. There were a few I could not walk through, and had to lean over. I started to panic a little–I always thought I would be one of those who wanted to be alone during labor, but I was just the opposite. I was afraid, I wanted someone there.

I called Jason, but he didn’t pick up his cell phone (I found out later he was blasting music and rocking out on the way to work) I called my sister Angel (who was going to be in charge of watching Mason), then I called Joni and told her what was going on. As I did, I felt silly. I was still in denial that this was really it. I told her I was having regular contractions and she told me she would give me a call back later to see how things were going, or I could call her if
it got really intense.

I was feeling very fidgety. I put on Blue’s Clue’s for Mason, and went around the house doing some last minute cleaning and prepping for the birth. I thought about making the cupcakes that I had planned on making in early labor–for Hannah’s birthday–but I just could not focus so I decided not to even try. I was on edge and everything was getting on my nerves.

I called Jason back, but this time I called his work number, he picked up and I told him I wanted him to come home, that I was scared and I felt this was really it. Looking back, I don’t know why I felt scared–I just didn’t want to be alone. I also wanted Joni there but knew it was way too early. I felt I needed to have people that I loved around me.

While I was waiting for Jason to come home, I made sure Mason was occupied and I took a shower and got dressed, all the while having regular, strong contractions. What a sight it must have been to see a heavily pregnant woman trying to maneuver around her huge 40 week belly to shave her legs and deal with contractions at the same time.

About an hour later, Jason was home. All three of us went for a walk down to the lake. I would have to stop every now and then and breathe through a contraction. The walk was surreal–I was in labor!

The dock was peaceful, and it was a beautiful sunny day. We sat on the picnic table for a while goofing around and taking pictures.

I seriously wanted to beat him. I was already on edge, and in the midst of a contraction, and that was the last thing that I wanted to hear. Jason, sensing my annoyance, said, “Well, we’re working on it now, actually”. “Oh”, he said, “Well good luck”. I just stood there breathing through contractions while Jason chatted with him for a few more minutes.

When we got home, we went out to the backyard and pushed Mason in his swing. We didn’t have any patio furniture yet so I made Jason go inside and get my birth ball. It really helped with the pressure, but when a contraction hit I just wanted to hang onto something, and there was nothing to brace myself, so it just ended up annoying me.

We went back inside. I was hungry but nothing sounded good. Jason called Chili’s and ordered us some food, then went to pick up. I stayed home with Mason, but needed to focus on contractions, so I let him on the computer so he could watch YouTube videos of PM Dawn.

I was in the sun room, and when one particular contraction hit, I had to fall to my hands and knees to work through it. Mason jumped on my back and wanted to wrestle. I panted to Jason, “Get (pant, pant) him, (pant, pant) off me”. I feel so bad about it now, but I really needed to focus through the contractions. After the contraction subsided, I stood back up like nothing ever happened. Mason probably thought I was crazy.

Angel texted me around this time and told me she was leaving work and asked if we needed any food. I told her we already ate. I was so glad she was on her way, not only for support, but also to keep Mason occupied.

By the time 4:30 pm rolled around, the contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart. Some milder ones were even coming every 3 minutes. I just stood in the bathroom, standing at the sink and leaning onto it, while swaying my hips with each contraction. It felt good to be up and mobile in labor–doing whatever I wanted to do. I looked in the mirror from time to time, not believing that was me in there, feeling this. My body had gone into labor on it’s own–I was not broken. I looked around the bathroom, the afternoon sun shining in through the window… it was beautiful and so peaceful. I wanted to remember that moment forever.

While I was in the bathroom, the first really painful, oh-my-god contraction hit. I had to moan through it. It really caught me by surprise and freaked me out. I knew that must have been the monster contraction that Joni was talking about. I did not feel in control at all during it and I was starting to become fearful again. I wanted Joni there. I told Jason to call her now and tell her to please come over–contractions 4 minutes apart and very, very intense.

Angel arrived around 5 pm, and came in the bedroom to see me on my knees in front of the bed. I was moaning through a contraction, and she looked a little freaked out.

The contractions were unbelievable by now. It took everything I had to make it through them. Angel went to occupy Mason, who was becoming increasingly distressed over my condition. He would cry every now and then if he heard me. Between contractions I would ask, “How is Mason? Is he okay?”. Looking back having Mason there was a bit distracting at times. When I heard him in the background, I would start to worry about him and loose my focus.

Joni arrived shortly after 6pm. When she walked into the bedroom, I was curled up on the bed in a fetal position moaning through a contraction. She was ready to check my progress, and I was eager to know how far along I was.

Just when she was ready to check me, I had yet another really intense contraction and my water broke in a huge gush all over the bed. “My water broke”, I said, as if it wasn’t obvious. I remember whimpering to Joni ,”Oh no–doesn’t that mean they are going to get even stronger?” I was petrified at how much more painful the contraction were going to get.

Joni checked me and I was 5 cm! I didn’t get past 4 cm with Mason. I felt better knowing I was indeed making progress, but at the same time I knew I was only halfway there, and I had just, by definition, entered active labor.

Labor was soon very, very painful and intense, and from this point on, everything is really fuzzy. I don’t remember what time it was, who said what, or even what I was doing. I had my eyes closed most of the time, so I didn’t even see much of anything. All I remember was PAIN and not wanting to be alone.

When I was in labor with Mason, Jason annoyed me and I didn’t want him near me. This time, I needed him. I wouldn’t let him leave my side. During those very intense, scary contractions, he was my anchor in a stormy sea. Every time I could feel a contraction coming on, I would say, “Grab my hand!” and I would squeeze it hard. I remember biting him at one point (hehe), and he told me,”Don’t bite, that hurts.” We stood up for a while, swaying back and forth. I would lean into him when a contraction hit, and just hang from him. During one such contraction, I suddenly felt like pushing. I couldn’t help it. It really does feel like everyone says it does–like taking a really big shit. “I’m pushing!” I yelled. “That’s okay”, Joni said.

At some point, the assistant midwife, Bea, arrived, and they set up the birth supplies. Joni put the birth ball on the bed, and I leaned into that for a while. I started having some more contractions that felt very “pushy”. I have always heard how the urge to push is unbelievable, and they were right. There is no fighting that urge. It’s like a freight train moving through your body. I thought pushing felt better though, I was actually doing something with the pain.

At one point Jason asked me what I wanted to eat. Nothing sounded very appetizing, but I did notice I was feeling pretty weak and I needed something. I told him peanut butter toast and jelly toast. He came back with them made just the way I like it–one with peanut butter and butter, and the other with jelly and butter, also a Gatorade juice box. He would periodically feed me bites of the toast and hold the Gatorade in front of my face to I could sip it every now and then.

Joni checked me at one point, and said I was 7 cm. I couldn’t believe it! Seven? Really? She told me she was going to try and stretch my cervi xa little bit with the next contraction, because I was starting to push with some contractions. She didn’t want my cervi xto swell.

She then suggested I move to the toilet and try to urinate. I couldn’t pee, but I did end up sitting there for a while. Jason sat to my left sitting on the sink, holding my hand. Joni was sitting on the floor at my feet, and Bea was filming a little just outside the bathroom. When a contraction would hit, I would take my right hand, brace the side of the toilet and lift myself up. I guess I did this because sitting completely on the toilet seat was too uncomfortable.

Someone, I think Joni, put a cold wash cloth around my neck, and that really helped. I was getting really hot and sweaty working so hard. I would push with almost every contraction now. I could feel her head going lower and lower. I kept saying, “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore…”. Joni would just reply, “But you are doing it. Your body is doing exactly what it needs to… you went into labor on your own–it’s awesome! Everything you are feeling is your own body doing what it’s supposed to…” Just what I needed to hear. I am so glad that I had her there, she’s not only an amazing midwife, but a wonderful person.

At that point I know 100% for a fact I would have taken the epidural if someone was able to get it to me. If I were in the hospital, I know I would have gotten it. I am not going to lie, at that point I was thinking, “Maybe the c-section would have been easier…” The pain was unreal. I was trying to stay on top of the contractions, but I just couldn’t. I was moaning and screaming, my throat was getting sore (I actually ended up losing my voice for a few days because of all the noise I was making). I’m glad I was home surrounded by people who supported me and believed in me 100%.

At some point Joni suggested I get off the toilet and try another position on the bed. The thought of moving was terrifying. As soon as the last contraction ended, I quickly made a dash for the bed, hoping one wouldn’t surprise me along the way. She had me lay down so she could check me again. I was 8 cm–I was elated to hear this, but at the same time I was in so much pain it wasn’t good enough. I was actually a little pissed off, thinking how long is this going to take? Joni stretched my cervi xwith the next contraction.

The next thing I knew I was pushing with every contraction, laying on my left side with my right knee being held up by Jason. No one ever said, “10 cm-time to push!” They let me do what my body was telling me to do. Jason, Joni and Bea were awesome, cheering me on and giving me encouragement when I would say “I cannot do this!” (which I had to have said at least 100 times, I am sure) Joni encouraged me to touch her head–wow, what a feeling that was. “Looks like she has dark hair!” she said. I was expecting a blondie like Mason. That definitely gave me the motivation to push even harder.

At one point, I distinctly remember Hannah pushing off of the top of my uterus as a contraction hit–trying to wriggle herself out. It was amazing that my baby girl was working with me. We were a team… in it together.

Pushing was somewhat manageable until she was crowning. Wow–that was the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I was screaming at one point. I have no idea how Mason, who was sleeping down the hall on the couch in the living room, did not wake up.

Joni later told me I pushed for about 2 hours. Honestly, I do not remember it being that long. Even with all the pain I was feeling, it seemed half that amount of time. I remember asking, “is her head out?” almost after every contraction, because I just wanted the pain to end. Joni and Bea would tell me I was making beautiful progress, and Jason would squeeze my hand saying,”She’s right there, babe.” I just kept pushing and screaming until I heard, “Her head is out!”

After a few more pushes, her shoulders wouldn’t budge, and this is where it gets really fuzzy and hectic.

All I remember is one minute, Bea was filming at the foot of the bed, and the next minute she was at Joni’s side. I was laying on my back at that point, and they told me to get on my hands and knees. As I flipped over, I looked at their faces and saw panic. That scared the crap out of me. I just remember asking, “Is she stuck!?”

It felt as if they were ripping me apart. They yanked her up and down as I screamed. The pain from the contractions and the force of Joni and Bea trying to free Hannah caused me to throw up. Then they had me flip onto my back again and pull my knees up to my chest. They kept saying, “Push Michele!! PUSH!!” I pushed with all the strength I had left. I knew I needed to get her out. At that point the pain didn’t matter, I didn’t care if they did rip me apart–I just wanted her out and alive.

Finally, she came out. Joni later told me it was 4 minutes that she was stuck. Looking back, it honestly didn’t feel like it was that long–those 4 minutes were such a blur to me. It was like an outer body experience.

When she was out, she was limp, and not breathing, but her heart was beating at 120 bpm. They gave her oxygen and tried stimulating her, meanwhile Jason and I were in shock. They had Angel call 911.

I couldn’t believe it was happening. I got really freaked out when Bea started praying (I was later told that shoulder dystocia is her worst fear). I was crying and saying over and over, “Oh no….Hannah, please don’t die…this isn’t happening”. I glanced over at Jason, he must have been pacing because he was across the room. He had his hands to his face, looking pale.

After about one minute (but felt an eternity) she finally started breathing–I heard her crying and relief swept over me. I was later told her Apgars were 3 and 7.

They handed her to me. She was still warm and wet from my womb. I will never forget that feeling. I was amazed at the amount of dark hair she had–Mason was born blond and almost bald! She was so beautiful! I couldn’t believe what I had just done–or should I say “we” because I felt Hannah and I worked as a team during the birth. We did it!

I still lay on my back on the bed, Hannah was now being assessed further by Joni and Bea. I don’t remember what they were doing exactly, since everything at this point is pretty fuzzy–but I am sure it was something to do with her right arm, which was pretty limp.

The next thing I remember is Joni at my feet telling me to push. The placenta came out quickly and there was no hemorrhaging–which is sometimes seen with a shoulder dystocia.

The medics arrived and Joni and Bea filled them in on what happened. Her color was fine and she was okay, but decided to go to the hospital just as a precaution. Joni and Bea cleaned me off and helped me get dressed. I went with Hannah in the ambulance, and Jason followed with Joni. Angel stayed home with Mason (who was still asleep, thank god).

They let me hold her in the ambulance, and had me hold an oxygen mask on her face. Once there, I was wheeled into the emergency room. Everyone kept saying “congratulations” as I was wheeled by with Hannah. You know that scene from Robocop, the one in which he has just been made into Robocop and the scene is shot from his perspective, with different people coming up to his face and talking to him? Well, that is what it was like for me, it seemed surreal. I felt like I was doped up. Different people were coming up to me asking questions. I couldn’t believe I was at the hospital–the very place I wanted to avoid.

We were taken to L&D. I was relieved when Jason and Joni walked into the room. Of course, the nurses and doctors were asking Joni lots of questions, as if she were on trial. They asked me about my pre-natal care, etc. I kept telling them I went to the birth center until 32 weeks, then I went with Joni for a homebirth–plain and simple.

I had a resident and an intern come over and stare at my vagina to assess the damage. I had a 2nd degree vaginal tear. They asked me what pain relief I wanted while they stitched me–and epidural or local anesthesia. At first I said I wanted the epidural. I just didn’t want to feel anymore pain (at this point I was still in shock at how painful the birth was) and was afraid the local wouldn’t numb me enough.

Joni talked some sense into me–if I got the epidural I would need a catheter (though I ended up with one anyway since I was so swollen I couldn’t urinate) and an IV. I opted for the local anesthesia.

I was getting annoyed–the resident was asking me questions and all I wanted to do was hold Hannah and feed her her first meal. She was across the room having some blood drawn and was being checked over, the whole time crying and rooting for my breast. Joni held my hand and comforted me when I started to cry about how the birth turned out, and how I just wanted to feed her. I seriously wanted to jump off the bed and punch my way through the crowd of nurses and doctors to get to her.

After what seemed like an eternity, they said she was fine, but her right arm seemed to have some possible nerve damage from being stuck, but would need to see over time what the prognosis was. I FINALLY got to breastfeed her–she latched on like a champ! It was wonderful. I sighed a huge sigh of relief. My baby, safe and sound.

Joni ended up leaving the hospital at around 2 AM–she stayed with us for a long time, giving us support and showing her concern. She took Jason home and then Jason drove back to the hospital in our car. He ended up staying the night there with me and Hannah and Angel stayed home with Mason.

We were supposed to go home the next morning, but there was a delay in the bloodwork so I stayed an extra day with her. That was hell. I felt like I was in a prison. Jason had to stay home with Mason, so I was alone and it was depressing and boring. Mason met his little sister for the first time at the hospital–I had always though it would have been at home.

Surprisingly, there was only one “homebirth is risky” comment while I was there. It was from the specialist that came to assess Hannah’s arm on the last day there. She told me that I should be thankful I didn’t rupture, then looked at me wide-eyed, like she was trying to scare me, “Do you know we have had ruptures happen here at the hospital?” I just looked at her and said, “Look, I did my research, I know all about it.” She then proceeded to say that I risked my life, and Hannah’s life. It annoyed me how she talked to me like I was a silly little girl.

By the time we left the hospital, her arm had already improved greatly. It is now pretty normal and I don’t think she will need physical therapy, though we have an appointment with a physical therapist just to be sure. (*update* it’s been 6 months since her birth, and her shoulder is totally healed, and has been for some time now)

Five days after the birth, I had my second postpartum visit with Joni. I cried to her and told her that though I pushed my baby out–I still was bothered by how it ended, the shoulder dystocia, the hospital, etc. I asked her if she would consider it a failed homebirth, to which she replied,”You had your baby at home.”

Talking to her made me feel at peace with it.

Though the ending wasn’t ideal, and very scary, it was an amazing experience overall. I pushed my baby out of my body, without pitocin, without pain medication, and disproved my former OB’s “CPD” diagnosis (Hannah was 7 oz. bigger than Mason, and almost half and inch longer)–and for that I am very proud.

The shoulder dystocia could have happened at the hospital too–it’s just unpredictable. I accept that. It occurs in about 1% of births–so I guess we won the lottery with that one. Joni told me she’s been doing homebirths for 10 years, and this was only her 3rd shoulder dystocia. We were unlucky but we pulled through and we are okay. My midwives, Joni and Bea, were incredible and handled it beautifully. I couldn’t thank them enough! Such awesome women!

I can actually say now, that I birthed my baby. I just couldn’t say that about Mason, it fit the term birth by definition only. I still can’t believe I did it. I really did it. I pushed my beautiful little girl out of my body. She is finally here. I birthed Hannah on the same bed in which she was conceived, and into loving arms, at home.

Michele
A stay at home mommy to my son Mason and baby girl Hannnah, loving wife to Jason, natural birth advocate, writer, artist and very proud VBAC and homebirth mama!
http://www.birthcut.com/
http://journeytohomebirth-hbac.blogspot.com/