Naomi’s birth story actually starts months before her birth. When we announced her due date – April 28 – we realized that the weekend before she was due (April 23 and 24), I had a bat mitzvah student who would become bat mitzvah that weekend. This girl (M) and I had gotten close during her studies, and she informed me (in a way that only a 13 year old could) that if I didn’t make her bat mitzvah, she would kill me and steal my baby.
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.
In order to fully explain my VBAC birth I need to quickly explain my first birth. Although I prepared for my first birth by taking Bradley classes and hiring a doula, I did not end up with the natural vaginal birth I wanted.
After a 40 hour labor, 4 hours of pushing, and multiple attempts at vacuum extraction all with no medication, I ended up having a cesarean section. It wasn’t until they cut me open that the doctor realized that the reason she wouldn’t come out was that she was posterior and in brow position, which basically means that she had her neck cranked and was looking out the birth canal. Unfortunately the vacuum they had tried was pulling on her forehead instead of the crown of her head, and she came out with a gigantic purple bruise and a large scab in the middle of her forehead.
I was devastated, and spent the next year and a half mourning the loss of the natural childbirth I so desperately desired. When I got pregnant for the second time, less than a year later, I knew I had a lot of emotional healing to do. I was positive that I wanted to try for a VBAC, but I was actually scared to let myself believe that I could do it. I was terrified of getting my hopes too high and having my natural childbirth “stolen” from me like I felt it was the first time.
Our daughter Lauren was born at home on her due date, a Friday morning late in May.
In the week leading up to our due date, I could feel my body getting ready for the birth. I knew the baby had dropped because I could feel the pressure of her weight come off my pelvic bone and shift more towards the back of my body. Early Wednesday morning the mucus plug slithered down my leg.
I went to see my midwife on Thursday, the day before our due date, and she told me that if I didn’t deliver in the next 10 days she would have to turn me over to a doctor to be induced in the hospital, which was the last thing we wanted. She suggested there were some natural methods of induction we could try and since I felt my body was ready, I agreed to let her stretch my cervix. This was somewhat painful, but the pain faded within about 30 minutes. She told me that she could feel the baby’s hair, which made me realize the baby inside me was not the tiny fetus from the ultrasound pictures, but a full term baby. At the end of the appointment, she asked me if I felt I was ready to have the baby. I replied casually that I was.
Her story really starts with a book. My husband’s mother had been thinking for some time about becoming a doula, especially since they were planning on moving to Clarksville and there is a large military community here and many new mothers giving birth while their husbands are deployed. She had been a military wife during both of her children’s births and had had to do it without her spouse so she understood the need for support of such women.
When she found out we were expecting again she told us her desire to be a doula and asked if we would want her to try and finish the course by our due date so she could be a doula for us. We decided that her aspiration was wonderful and she should definitely pursue it, but we were very eager to have my husband coach the birth. She understood and went ahead with pursuing the doula training, but not with the urgency to have it completed by our due date.
I was 4+ cm dilated on Monday at my doctor’s visit. I stayed home from work that day because I was totally bummed out. Tuesday (our actual due date) I sacked up and went to work, which was a very bad idea because by the end of the day I was back to being totally glummo and I wanted to kill everyone, hence:
Tuesday night I told Jon that we should go out on a date to get our minds off the waiting part. I was getting pretty cranky about the whole thing after being so chill for so long. So, after our 5 billionth walk around the neighborhood we went out to get some food and then went to see “The Hangover”, where at some point during the movie someone threw a pair of 3D glasses and hit me in the head. But, the movie was funny because: Mike Tyson… singing. Do I even need to mention at this point that I was having contractions? I had been having them so often all week I was pretty much just ignoring it. They would get stronger as soon as we left the house or went on a walk but then not much else would happen.
I woke up earlier and perkier than normal on Wednesday February 10, 2009. I was having contractions much lower than normal, and it seemed that they were coming regularly. So, I lay in bed for the next hour waiting to see if they would subside. They didn’t, so I got out of bed to watch the news, check my e-mail, and clean up the kitchen. Still, the contractions were regular! I was so excited. I assumed that I would be way overdue as I was with my first baby. This time I was early! I also never had the chance to experience normal natural labor with my first. I was induced with Pitocin. Yuck.
Anyway, I took a shower, ate some breakfast, and called my husband. The contractions were strong enough that I really didn’t want to stay at home alone with my 3 year old all day. I was afraid I wouldn’t be as available to get him what he needed, so John agreed to come home. I also wanted John to be with me during the whole thing.
On Wednesday January 6th, at 5 days overdue and feeling like our baby was never going to arrive, we went in to see the midwives, who after a little check, informed me that I was 1 cm dilated, with some other good things happening down there. Now 1cm at nearly 41 weeks is nothing to write home about, but it was PROGRESS! Progress that made me feel like we actually may have this baby before it was time to register him for preschool!
That Friday we had a BPP (biophysical profile) test scheduled, which includes an ultrasound and a non-stress test, where they check all of baby’s stats and make sure everything is still OK. They look for baby’s movement, breathing, fluid levels and muscle tone, and then hook you up to a monitor to make sure baby’s heart rate is increasing with movement, etc.
Annnd….we kind of failed the test.
I remember writing my birth story with my second son, it was empowering and wonderful and completely healing from my intervention-filled first birth. This time around, I’m still in a daze from the wonderment that is my body.
I had bloody show on Friday, and contractions in the morning. After running some errands and shipping my boys off for a pre-planned out of town trip, my contractions stopped. I slept well that night, and they picked up again on Saturday. I laid around the house all day, watching Ugly Betty (great noncommittal TV programming!), snacking, baking, and blowing up my birth tub. I liked being alone, just me and my baby. I wrote her a letter, telling her about all the good things, cloth diapers, a birth tub, nursing, big brothers, etc when she decided to come and be born. I was ready.
Around 8pm, I felt my contractions picking up in timing and somewhat in strength, but it wasn’t anything to get excited about. I timed them for about two hours, and they were 3 to 5 minutes apart. I could walk through them and stand, I mostly stood and laid down when I felt I needed to.
I was due on Sunday, which came and went and by Monday I was feeling a little down that I hadn’t had ANY signs of labor (no mucus plug, no nesting, no show, etc.) When I came home from work on Monday evening I decided that I would clean the baseboards in our hallway, thinking that being on my hands and knees would be good to help baby into a good position for birth.
Once I started cleaning, signs began to appear! Bloody show? Check. Mucus plug? Check. Nesting? The baseboards looked great!
By around 11pm my contractions were about 10 minutes apart and felt like really strong menstrual cramps with a little bleeding. I called my doula who told me that I was probably in early labor and that I should try to get some sleep because my baby was probably going to be born the next day.
My second baby was 3 weeks early, so I was expecting my third baby ‘any time’ after that. Waiting was extremely tiring. I loved being pregnant this time & didn’t mind that he hadn’t come early, I just wished I had some idea *when* he was going to come.
On Sunday, March 1, 2009, my husband had an attack of labrynthitis (vertigo). It usually takes him several weeks to recover. Since I was already 40 weeks (or over, depending on the calculator), we knew there wasn’t going to be that much time, but I really hoped it was be at least a few days, otherwise he wasn’t going to be able to help much, if at all.
About this website
Birth is inspiring, amazing, and empowering. This website shares a collection of real natural birth experiences from you, the readers. Births the way nature intended. No pitocin. No epidural. Just the beauty (and intensity!) of the human body at work. Whether you've had one natural birth, five natural births, or are considering natural birth in the future, our hope is you will find courage and joy in these stories. Enjoy.
Recommended Reading:
 The Birth Partner: A Complete Guide to Childbirth for Dads, Doulas, and All Other Labor Companions |  Husband-Coached Childbirth: The Bradley Method of Natural Childbirth |
