Max has had 6 regular casts and just had his tenotomy 2 days ago. I will post as soon as I can about his progress and how everything has gone. Its been a totally different experience than what we went through with Oliver.
So finally...Max's birth story!
On Sunday, September 29, 2013 Jay and I welcomed our third baby into the world. A precious baby boy, Max Christopher was born at 12:25 pm weighing 8 lbs 5 oz and measuring 20 inches long.
This was going to be my second natural birth. With our first child, I had had a typical OB hospital birth experience. I was induced at 37 weeks 2 days due to high blood pressure (not pre-eclampsia) and had an epidural that did not work well. Afterwards, I gained so much faith in my body and decided to go a different route for my second birth. During my second pregnancy, I switched from my OB to a midwife when I realized I did not want to have to fight for the birth I wanted. I was almost 34 weeks pregnant when I switched and it was one of the best decisions of my life. I had a lovely natural hospital birth. My midwife with my second birth has become a dear friend of mine. She switched jobs after my daughter, Lucy, was born, and the day I found out she would not be my midwife for any future babies I cried! Thankfully, I found another wonderful midwife for my third pregnancy and birth. This would be my first out of hospital birth at a freestanding birthing center, and I couldn't wait.
My pregnancy with Max was unlike either of my previous pregnancies. The first couple of weeks reminded me a lot of my first pregnancy with smells bothering me, sickness especially at night, and sore breasts. I began to think "hmm, maybe another boy?" Over the weeks, however, many of those symptoms faded except for the sickness which lasted all day for weeks. I had hoped that if it was going to follow my first pregnancy I would get past the morning sickness by around week 10 or so just like I did before. No such luck! I was continuing to feel nauseated and would throw up well past the halfway mark in my pregnancy. I remember the week of my big ultrasound (23 weeks) I had just started to feel good. At that point, I was thinking, "Well, maybe its actually a girl!" since I was also so sick when I was carrying Lucy.
Just as I started to get past the sickness, I had my ultrasound that revealed we were having another baby expected to have clubfoot. (And we were having a boy!) Our first child, Oliver, had been born with bilateral (both feet) clubfoot in 2008. We had been through this once, and that did not provide a bit of comfort. Instead, it made me realize how hard this was going to be. This wrecked me in ways that I was not prepared for. Despite my strong Christian faith, I was angry at God for giving us this challenge. I felt like I went from being sick all the time to being a mess over how we were going to take care of this baby and his foot. The doctor that we had used for Oliver's clubfeet and absolutely loved was no longer practicing; I also found that out the day of my ultrasound. I spent the next 2 months losing countless hours of sleep as I worried about what we were going to do. I researched like a crazy person for a new doctor. The weight of the care our son needed burdened me and, admittedly, stole a lot of the joy from my pregnancy. I have always enjoyed being pregnant, but this time I did not. I feel awful admitting that but it is true. On top of everything else, this pregnancy was extremely painful for me. I had many symptoms of SPD, where just walking was excruciating and by the end of the day I would often just break down in tears as to how much pain I was in just from doing the bare minimum of everyday activities. In previous pregnancies, I was uncomfortable of course. But this time I was really affected by the pain and had to stop doing things very early on. At one point Jay asked me if I still wanted to have more children after this, and I replied, "Let me first forget how horrible this pregnancy has been."
Despite the physical pain, and emotional and mental anguish of preparing for another clubfoot baby, I did not wish away the pregnancy. In fact, there were times when I was panicked about how quickly it was going by. At one appointment with my midwife, I was waiting back in the room and I realized that soon I would be going to every week appointments. I got out my phone, opened the calendar, and literally counted three times to make sure I was in fact that far along. It couldn't be possible! I was so worried about how I was going to handle travelling for Max's treatment since I knew Jay would not be able to go with me each time. I worried about having a newborn in the house again. There were times I literally felt scared of this baby I was carrying. Lucy, while absolutely precious and wonderful, was a *very* difficult newborn. The days, weeks, and months after she was born were some of the hardest times I can remember since we have had children. I was really worried about making it through those infant days and actually enjoying him. People would ask me if I was ready, or getting excited, as I approached my due date. I smiled and said yes, of course. I really didn't want to admit to anyone how scared I was of adding a third child.
I spent many, many appointments with my wonderful midwife, Kori, processing all of these feelings. I worried that my fears would inhibit my labor. After all, while I was still carrying him, I didn't have to deal with the clubfoot. I didn't have to deal with the doctor appointments and the travel. I didn't have to worry about the insane sleep deprivation I experienced in the past with a baby who just would.not.sleep. Ever. I just had to talk it out over and over again. Although my midwife and I had known each other before this pregnancy (I had been a doula for two of her other clients), it was during these appointments that I truly felt like she switched from being just my care provider to being my friend. I will forever be thankful for her patience and kindness to me during this time. There truly is a difference in midwifery care.
During the last 3 weeks or so of my pregnancy, I had been having sporadic contractions. Although I knew that none of them were "real" labor contractions, they certainly were painful. Some of them would wake me up at night or keep me from falling asleep in the first place. None of the painless tightening contractions that I had felt during the end of my second pregnancy. These contractions hurt. I strongly felt as though I would have the baby early, well before my due date. There was just no way, with all of the contractions and the SPD pain, that I could possibly make it to my due date. I kept reminding myself that babies don't have a calendar and they will certainly come when they are ready. But darn it all, I was in SO much pain. I could barely stand the thought of waking up pregnant for many more days. I was nesting like mad. I threw away so many bags of stuff, donated countless items, and scrubbed the heck out of our house.
By 39 weeks, I was sure that I would have the baby any day now. I just "knew". It was also around this time that one evening something really "clicked" with me and I suddenly felt a complete and total peace about the baby coming. It was so sudden and so intense. I was laying in bed one night, and suddenly I had this strong memory of laying in bed with Oliver as a baby, snuggling up to him and pressing my face into that sweet spot of a newborn's neck. Rubbing my cheek against his soft baby cheeks. The memory was so vivid that it brought me to tears, and suddenly, I was excited. All of a sudden, I could not wait to hold my baby. I wanted to meet him so very badly. I was ready.
I really hadn't expected to have that peace until I met my baby, so when I felt that around week 39, I thought he would be born any day. Sure enough, though, I made it to my due date. My 40 week appointment was on Monday, the day before my due date. I asked to have my cervix checked for the first time as I was curious if I had made any progress. When I had my first check on my due date during my second pregnancy, I was 3 cms with a bulging water sack. I was hoping I was about the same this time. It was very painful to be checked, and I found out I was about 2-3 cms and 30% effaced, but my cervix was still high. Meh. I knew it didn't mean much; I could go on for a week or more like that, or I could go into labor that night. I really wanted to have a September baby, but I still had a week for that to happen. I decided against having my membranes stripped at that point because I just didn't feel like it would do much. I was having no significant labor signs.
With Lucy's pregnancy, I had that first check on my due date, I went into labor that night, and had her the next morning. I'll admit, I kind of expected the same thing to happen this time. Of course, it didn't. Over the course of the next couple of days after my appointment I began to lose a lot of discharge. Every time I would go to the bathroom, I would check to see if I was having any sort of bloody show. That was one of my first labor signs with Lucy, but I didn't have that at all with Max. I was starting to get really impatient.
Wednesday night I went to bed, having contractions as usual, and woke up around 3 am to a painful contraction. This pain was different. It was an all over sensation that really got my attention. Oliver had come into my bed at some point, and I was trying to deal with the contractions without waking him up. All I wanted to do was get up and move around, or take a shower, or something, but I knew that if this was it, I needed to rest. I was tired, so I would drift off in between contractions that were coming anywhere from 5-10 mins apart. As soon as a contraction would hit, it was like my body would come "alive". That is the only word I could think of during the pain. I would go from being sleepy and out of it to being extremely aware of every sensation in my body. This went on for about two hours. I texted Jay at work to let him know that I would most likely be needing him to come home, that I thought I was in labor and if this continued I would need help once the kids were awake.
The next thing I knew, I woke up and it was 7 am. Two hours had passed, and my contractions had gone away. "Damn it!" was all I could think. I couldn't believe it. I called my mom and was in tears over how exhausted I was. She and my dad ended up coming up from Indy for the day to help with the kids. I spent the afternoon in my bedroom. I spent time on my hands and knees and doing various positions to try to get baby in a good position in case that was why my labor hadn't really kicked in the previous night. I really wanted to go to the chiropractor, but had absolutely no energy or desire to leave the house. I slept for awhile, and when I woke up later that afternoon I had some more contractions. I ate dinner that night, a meal from Casa's, and ended up throwing it all back up. Gross. I called my midwife to give her a heads up about the night before and that maybe the contractions I was feeling would get going once the kids were in bed for the night.
No such luck. I woke up the next morning still pregnant. I got the kids ready for the day and my mother-in-law came and got Oliver to take him to preschool and took Lucy for the day. My parents had spent the night so that I didn't have to drive up to Auburn for my prenatal appointment by myself. We left early so that I could eat a big breakfast that was required before my ultrasound. They were going to do a biophysical profile to check on the baby.
Everything looked perfect on the ultrasound. I had never had an ultrasound so late in my pregnancy (obviously, since I had never gone past my due date), and I was amazed at how big he looked on the screen. His face looked so real, so full, so precious! He had his hand up by his face and it was incredible to see him. I was even more excited to meet this sweet little baby.
I decided to be checked again. I wanted to know if the contractions I had had that week, as well as some of the discharge I had experienced, had helped me make any progress. Sure enough I was 4 cms, 70% effaced, and my cervix was lower and more in the front than the Monday earlier that week. In fact, the exam was barely even uncomfortable. Because of that, I asked her to strip my membranes. In some ways, I'm kind of surprised I did that. It tends to go against my whole "wait it out" mentality, but really, I was just so done. I knew there was a possibility it wouldn't do anything, and I was ok with that. But if it helped things along with what I had already experienced, well ok then.
Its funny when I look back at my last two pregnancies, labors, and deliveries. Both were natural births with a midwife. But the first time I did it this way, I really wanted to do things MY way which really meant "nothing like what an OB does". I felt like I had to prove to...myself? others? I dont really know...that birth didnt have to be anything like what we hear. A woman doesn't have to have all of these vaginal exams. They didn't need to have an IV during labor. They don't have to do xyz to have a baby. But this last time, I didn't feel that need to prove anything. If I wanted to have my cervix checked, I was going to do it. If I wanted to have my membranes stripped, I was going to do it and not worry about how anyone might judge that. I was truly taking control over my own experience.
Friday night after my appointment, we went to my in-laws for dinner and to drop Oliver off for his regular Friday night sleepover with his cousins. I couldn't eat much, and again I was having regular contractions every 10 mins. They weren't extremely painful, but they certainly got my attention and they reminded me of early labor with Lucy. By the time we were ready to go, I had to stop while putting Lucy in her carseat to work through one of them. Hmm, I thought, this could be good. I expected to get her to sleep and then have things really pick up.
Sure enough, after about 3 hours of having contractions, they stopped. Again. I was frustrated and tired and fairly certain I was going to be pregnant forever. I was irrationally upset that I was certainly NOT going to have the September baby I had hoped for. I got a decent night's sleep that night, but I was so uncomfortable and worn down the next day that it didn't seem to matter much.
Saturday night I desperately wanted to get out of the house for awhile. We considered going to the grocery store, but it was already about 6:00 by the time we got ready and we didn't really want to keep the kids up late that night. Jay was also worried that I would go into labor while we were shopping in Fort Wayne, and then we'd have to come home, get the kids ready to go to my ILs, etc etc. He worried that since I was already 4 cms that things would go quickly. (Actually, I had tons of people tell me during that last week about how they had had nights of contractions similar to mine, and then once labor started, BAM. It was quick and intense and over with in just a couple of hours.) I scoffed at his concern about a fast labor, because, after all, I was going to be pregnant forever. I was even getting annoyed thinking about all of my friends who had gone into labor and had their babies before their due dates.
We ended up just going for a short walk, and I commented about halfway through that I was really glad we had decided to skip on the grocery trip. Just the amount of walking we were doing was painful and almost too much for me at that point. We came home and got the kids ready for bed, and Jay asked me if tonight was the night I would have the baby. I snapped at him something like, "Yeah, how would I know". (Sorry, sweetie!) I was irritated about everything at that point and knew I wouldn't have faith in my contractions if they did in fact start up.
During the last few weeks of my labor, I really needed time at night to be by myself. I didn't want any company, I just wanted alone time in my room to get into my "zone". I spent a lot of time praying, talking to Max, and focusing on good labor and delivery thoughts. I read Peggy Vincent's "Baby Catcher" book, especially the story where she talks about the clubfoot baby. That night I did those same things, all the while sitting on my birth ball. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Roll my hips. Willing, begging, pleading for labor to start. I was facebook messaging with a friend of mine. I had been her doula for her last delivery, so she is one of those "anything goes" friends. Around midnight, I had to pee, so I got up off of my ball, and I literally felt something fall out of me. I went to the bathroom, and passed a HUGE glob of mucus plug. I told my friend about it, and we both thought that maybe I was going to have this baby soon. Then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Sure enough, though, it wasn't long at all after I passed the mucus plug that contractions started. Holy crap. These HURT. They were coming every 5 minutes or so and lasting over a minute. I still had a hard time believing they were going to stick around, but something in me told me that this was probably it. I tried to rest but it was impossible. I double-checked everything in my bags and made sure the kids had clothes ready for the next day. I got the bags around and headed downstairs where Jay was. I told him I thought I was in labor but was trying to wait and see what happened.
At 1:40 am I called my doula to let her know what was going on. I wasn't ready for her to come or anything, but I was pretty positive that I'd be needing her that night. I felt calm and in control. As I was up doing things, my contractions got much closer, every two and a half minutes or so, but not lasting as long, maybe 45 seconds. I started to get confused as to what was going on, and decided to call my midwife. She asked me if there was any reason why I felt like this wasn't real labor, and I said my doubts were mainly because of the other nights I had had contractions start and then stop. I didn't want to call everyone and get to the birth center and then have to go home and waste anyone's time. She told me I didn't need to worry about that; if it happened, it happened. I told her about the strange pattern, and she suggested that I take 30 minutes and put my phone away (I was timing them with a contraction timing app) and just relax. I agreed that this was a good idea as I was starting to go nuts with timing them. I told her I would take the next half hour and then decide what seemed best after that. I put away my phone, set the kitchen timer for 30 minutes, and sat on my birth ball, and watched a funny TV show with Jay. After the timer went off, I decided to see what was going on with my contractions and had Jay start timing them again. They were back to every 5 minutes lasting about a minute. Around 3 am I decided this was it.
I had a list of people I needed to call. I called my mom, because she lives about two hours from the birthing center and it was important for me that she was there. I called my doula back and let her know this was it! We decided she would just meet me at the birthing center. Jay called his parents to come over and stay with the kids so that we didn't have to get them out of bed. I called my midwife back and let her know this was it, and that once my in-laws came we would be leaving. I called my birth photographer so that she could meet us at our house and follow us to the center. This was really happening!
I really don't remember the time between calling people and leaving. Contractions were already taking all of my attention and I just wanted to get the 45 minute drive to Auburn out of the way. I grabbed a towel to sit on in the van just in case my water broke. I decided to sit in the very back row so that I could lay down or move around more if I needed to. Once everyone got to the house I remember Jay filling his parents in on what they needed to know, and me telling Jennifer (my birth photographer) that the contractions were about every 5 minutes. I walked out of the house in the middle of Jay telling his parents something because I just couldn't be around anyone during a contraction.
The drive to the center was as bad as I expected. I knew my contractions were still about every 5 minutes, and occasionally I would notice the time and start to dread when I expected another one to hit. Every bump on the road felt awful and I was remembering why I wanted a home birth- to avoid the drive!! I was cursing the stupid fair that Auburn had going on that meant we had a detour in town and the drive was even longer. Once we got to the stoplight by the hospital, I remember thinking that I only had enough time left before we got to the center to have one more contraction. Thank goodness.
We got to Auburn Birthing Center sometime after 4 am, and as soon as we were parked in the garage I said, "Get me out of here" and quickly climbed out of the van. I remember seeing something in the garage labelled "Precipitous Birth Kit" or something like that. Another contraction hit and I thought, "I'm so glad I made it here to labor at the birth center, but I'm so jealous that some moms are already done when they get here!"
I went inside and saw my doula and my midwife. It was so quiet and peaceful. I could tell that I already felt so comfortable; there was no "re-adjusting" to my new space to feel "safe" again like when I was in the hospital. This was exactly where I wanted to be and I was so thankful for the chance to be there. My contractions were coming regularly, about every 5 minutes, and lasting 45 seconds. In between contractions I settled into the room I had chosen beforehand (the "circle room", appropriately named because of its decorations). Despite my intentions to walk around the birth center and labor other places, once I settled into this room I didn't leave until after he was born. As soon as I sat on the edge of the bed to talk to my midwife, a contraction hit and I went down onto my hands and knees on the floor to cope through it.
I asked to be examined and it was determined that I was 6 cm, 100% effaced, and baby was at 0 station. I asked Kori to remind me what the stations meant, and she explained to me that he was in line with my pelvis, but not to worry too much about the details. I remember being thrilled that I was 6 cms. Only 4 left to go! Surely I would hit transition soon and it wouldn't be long. I started to worry that my parents may not make it there in time. I sent my mom a text updating her and she sent one back saying to tell baby Max to slow down. Yeah right, I thought! I sent one back saying, "Tell Dad to hurry up!!" I had worship music playing and my doula was helping me by doing hip squeezes and other things to help me during contractions.
Around 5 am I made my way into the tub. I was hesitant to get in too early because the water had slowed my labor down with Lucy. But the thought of being in the water sounded so good. I wanted a water birth, but had also wanted that with Lucy, and was ok with doing whatever felt right at the time. Sure enough, the water just did not feel right. Contractions seemed to slow down, and I wasn't going to wait and see what happened this time. I felt sick to my stomach and almost threw up. At that point, I was done with the tub and wanted out. Getting in and out of that huge tub was such a pain. As soon as I got out I was so cold and shaking uncontrollably. I hadn't completely ruled out the idea of using the tub again at some point that night, but the thought of dealing with the shaking in case I wanted out again made up my mind. No more tub.
My parents arrived just before 6 am. I was out of the tub and laying on my left side. I remember someone putting a blanket or sheet or something over me to cover me when my dad walked in to say hello and I shoved it aside. Someone explained that my dad was in the room and they were just covering me up a bit and I said, "I do not care!! Get it off of me!" I soon asked for another check. For some reason, knowing my dilation was really important to me this time. I found out I was 7.5 cms and baby was still at 0 station.
I was determined to push this along if I could. At this point I have to rely heavily on my doula's notes because I don't remember much of this. I was very tired from the lack of sleep in the overnight hours, but I pressed on trying different positions to encourage labor progress. I tried hands and knees and alternated that with side-lying. Jay showed me some pictures of Oliver and Lucy on my phone. I also used the birth stool. Jay rubbed my back and held my hand. Amber, my doula, applied pressure on different places on my lower back and hips. The contractions continued to be so very intense. I didn't want anyone joking or talking to me during a contraction, and I remember feeling like it was never going to end. I just wanted to go home. It seemed as though I was having signs of transition. The one bad thing (for me) about having a lot of knowledge about birth is that I found myself frequently analyzing my labor in an attempt to figure out where I was at and how much longer it would last. Did contractions seem to be getting closer together? Did I feel like giving up? Was this transition, which meant pushing would be soon? I was feeling a lot more pressure and thought surely I was making a lot of progress. I was scared of pushing against a cervical lip like I had experienced during Lucy's labor, so I asked for yet another exam. At 7:55 am I had another check that showed I was still 7.5 cms.
I see why exams can be both good and bad. It was so discouraging to hear that I had not made any progress in dilation. I had experienced all of those horribly painful contractions and yet I was still 7.5 cms. I talked some with my doula, who asked what was going on in my mind. I told her I was just so tired, and so ready to be done. I felt like it was never going to end. I really wasn't having any problems "releasing" my baby to be born; mentally I was very ready. The worry that dealing with his clubfoot may inhibit my labor did not actually happen. My labor was just so very slow. Hearing that I had not progressed took me off the ledge that I was on of extreme pain and brought me back to reality to "ok, I need to figure out how to deal with these contractions." Kori offered to break my water but I declined. My mom was sitting next to me and I told her I really did not want my water broken. In between contractions my midwife asked if there was a specific reason why I didn't want that done. In all the talking I had done with her during my prenatal appointments, I had never gotten around to telling her that that was one thing I had regretted from Lucy's labor. I really wanted to experience what it was like to have my water break on its own. Kori said she did not feel that breaking my water would necessarily speed things up that much anyway, and that was all I needed to hear to know I definitely did not want it done.
At 8:30 am I decided I needed time just with Jay. I felt badly, but I kicked everyone else out of the room. I desperately needed rest. And similarly to how I needed that quiet time during my pregnancy to just get in my zone with Max, I now needed to do that again. Kori had reminded me at some point that I needed to stop fighting my body and welcome the contractions (I had started saying "Nooo, no no no not again" during contractions because of the pain). I knew she was right, and part of me felt guilty for acting that way! I've been on the other side, as a doula, and know that women go through a wide range of actions and emotions during labor. I've been able to let go of that guilt this time; after Lucy's birth it took me weeks to process how I acted during labor and get over the embarrassment I felt.
Being alone was exactly what I needed. I knew that people were waiting on me, but that was ok. Kori had given me the option of either walking around the center and trying some various things to progress labor, or laying down and resting. It is hard to describe, because in my mind I was already up and walking around and laboring elsewhere. But it was like my body was absolutely drawn to that bed. I wish I could say I had made the conscious decision to labor in bed for awhile, but I made no such decision. It was made for me. I knew that in order to complete this task of birthing my baby, I had to lay down and rest. I absolutely had to. I had no idea how long I would lay there, but the choice truly was made for me by my body's need for rest. We turned off my music, and everyone left. The support I felt with everyone in the room was wonderful, but with each contraction I just became over-stimulated. I felt the pain, I felt everyone's touch, I was praying in my mind, I was analyzing my labor. It was just too much.
I laid on my sides with pillows between my legs. The pain was so incredibly intense. Its crazy how a woman's body can handle that sort of pain. I kept thinking, "This is never going to end. If only I knew what time he was going to be born, I could see an end to this. But I can't. There is no end to this pain." But I took Kori's advice of welcoming the contractions, realizing that each one was bringing my baby to me. Believe it or not, I actually was able to smile during some of my contractions! Granted, Jay was next to me asleep and no one else was in the room, so maybe I wasn't smiling. But it sure felt like it. I began to think, "Yes, Max. Come to me. Do what you..." and at some point the thought trailed off into the haze of pain. At some point earlier in my labor I had started to panic because it was so hard to breathe during a contraction, and my doula reminded me that yes, I could breathe and to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Oh my goodness, that helped so much! While I was laying there resting, I would feel a contraction come on and I would breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. In my mind I was picturing this circle of breath coming into my body and leaving. I had my hands together, fingers intertwined, and would feel my hands tightening up. I desperately tried to relax because even my fingers felt the pain of the contractions. Surely this had to end soon because my body couldn't continue to handle it. During contractions I could feel the baby moving down. I couldn't hold back as my body would push him down. I could tell these weren't actual pushes, because as I would start to push, it was like the baby would hit a wall and it would get extremely painful, and I would have to back off. But I knew things were happening.
Kori continued to check on me every once in awhile and listen to the baby. He sounded great, and she assured me that as long as I was okay with labor progressing this way that I was doing fine. I certainly wasn't ok with labor progressing so slowly, but again, I really didn't feel like I had a choice in the matter. I absolutely needed that rest.
At 10:10 another check showed that I was 8-9 cm. I asked my doula to come join me again as I was having some really bad back pain. I've never felt such tightening and horrible pain in my back. It didn't go away between contractions but it certainly intensified during them. I could no longer lay on my side. Amber used massage as I went back into hands and knees position to try to relieve some of the back pain. I tried laying over the birth ball as well and that felt awful. My arms were tired so I went back to the birth stool. At one point I had to hold onto the sides of the birth stool and lock my arms, basically lifting myself up because I couldn't stand the pressure of sitting. My doula asked if having my arms that way helped, and again, I felt as though it was just something I had to do. After awhile, I was able to relax them. Jay supported me from behind, and being able to lay back onto him was so comforting. Amber was in front of me, holding my hands. There was something very tender and sweet about just being able to reach out and hold a friend's hand during the pain. I felt extremely loved and supported during the entire process. I had some birth affirmation cards with me, and Amber read scripture aloud. I rested in the knowledge that God had created this entire birthing process and He does not make mistakes. I could surely handle this because God had designed my body to do this. Both of my natural labors and deliveries have been extremely spiritual for me. I have had to rely on God's help to get me through because I knew I couldn't do it on my own. It was an act of obedience on my part to wait for my baby to come and to come into this world in the way God had designed it. I don't know that other Christian women feel this way, as this has just been a personal conviction of mine.
I was later told that I became very inward and remained composed during contractions. Although I can see now that that was true, its a very strange thing to be experiencing the worst pain of your life and other people not necessarily realize it. I remember Jay talking to me during one contraction and I could barely speak but I managed to say, "Quiet, I'm contracting." All I could see, feel, and sense was PAIN. How anyone else was functioning normally around me without this pain was just incomprehensible. It was just so consuming. At times I would cry out, moan, pray aloud, or grunt while my body worked to push my baby down.
At 11:23 am, I felt a little "pop" as my water broke while sitting on the birth stool. I had felt what I thought was a pop earlier in labor, but my water was still intact after that one, so I wasn't really sure what this pop was. Amber and I noticed some white "stuff" in the fluid that had leaked while I was sitting on the birth stool, so she went and got Kori. Kori thought it may have been some vernix and that my water had broken. "Cool," I thought, "I got to experience my water breaking. But really, that was quite uneventful." I expected a gush or something, but it was not very dramatic at all.
I kept saying that I felt like this would last forever, and even apologized to Jay at some point. I told him I just wanted him to be proud of me. He assured me that he was and that I was doing great. I felt very connected to him during this labor, and it was a wonderful bonding experience for us.
I got off of the birth stool and wanted to be back on my hands and knees. Again, this was a position that I spent a lot of time in during my pregnancy to relieve discomfort and it was my go-to position during labor as well. I pushed for a few contractions while I leaned over the side of the bed. I remember saying I felt a lot of pressure, and a lot in my bottom like I had to poop. I knew that that was a good thing. I got back onto the bed in hands and knees position and was pushing before I even realized that I really WAS pushing. It was all just my body taking over and doing what it needed to do to get Max out.
It was time. My mom and Jennifer were still out of the room from when I kicked everyone out earlier and suddenly, I was scared that everyone was going to miss it. I kept saying I wanted Jennifer in there for pictures, that she couldn't miss taking the pictures! I knew the baby was coming, and soon, and yet it seemed like everyone else was remaining calm and unhurried. I had a moment of panic that no one believed me that this baby was coming NOW! Amber was on my left, fanning me with a paper fan which felt amazing. Jay was on my right, and my mom was behind me (I think).
Now this is the part that I definitely did not see coming or ever expected. During my pregnancy, I had thought about how my dad would be there at the birthing center. I had toyed with the idea that if I was in the tub having a water birth, it might be neat for my dad to come into the room as Max was born so he could experience the birth of one of his grandchildren. Well, I obviously was not in the tub and yet just as Max was about to be born, I decided I wanted my dad in there. I can't explain it. Here I am giving birth and I want my dad in the room. I remember yelling for him and he didn't come. Other people yelled for him and he got in the room just in time. After the fact, part of me is somewhat embarrassed yet I am still glad I did it. Anyone that knows me well knows that my dad and I have had a lot of ups and downs in our relationship. It was very special to me that he was part of Max's birth.
My body truly took over as I was pushing. I felt the stretching, and the burning. At one point, I felt my body stretching and then I felt the baby go back up. Ugh, no!!! I did not want to have an extremely long pushing phase like I did with Lucy. But the next contraction I felt him stay down, and I knew it wasn't going to be long before my baby was born. My midwife encouraged me to do little pushes to decrease the chance of me tearing, and my body immediately started to do little "puffs" of breaths to slow down. Max's head was born, and unlike Lucy's birth where her head, shoulders and body were quickly born all at once, I had to wait for another contraction to push his body out. That felt like forever!! Here I was on my hands and knees with his head out of me and I had to wait. I couldn't see anything and everyone else was talking about how his head was out. At one point it felt like he moved and I practically yelled, "What is he doing?!" because it truly felt like he was trying to crawl back inside of me. Kori laughed and said, "He's yawning!" All I could think (and I believe someone actually said this..Kori maybe? or me?) was, "Is he bored?!?" What the heck little dude, you're halfway born and you're yawning?!? :)
The next contraction came and Max was born. I was still on my hands and knees and could see him come down onto the bed, although because of the position I was in it felt like he fell onto the bed. (My doula later reassured me that it was in fact quite controlled the way he came down.) I breathed a huge sigh of relief and reached down to pick up my baby.
The feeling of meeting my baby was absolutely incredible. There are truly no words. Its that moment where all you can think is, "My baby is here! I did it! Its over!" I was so extremely happy. I just wanted to laugh! He was perfect. I learned that the cord had been wrapped twice around his neck, but at no time during my labor did he show any signs of distress. Thank goodness. I really can't imagine if I had had to transport to the hospital. I truly feel that my labor was able to progress and I was able to reach completion mainly because of the peaceful environment I was in. It had been nearly 8 hours from when I was first checked and I was 6 cms to when Max was finally born.
There were quite a few tears as we heard Max's first cry that just seemed to go on and on. He was so perfect. I saw his foot, and instead of making me sad, it was just part of who he was. The clubfoot may have stolen joy from my pregnancy, but it stole nothing from my moment of meeting my son. He was perfect, and he was ours.
I just held onto him as I was still there on my knees in the bed. I had no idea how I was supposed to move out of that position, so thankfully others helped me get turned around and settled. My placenta came out within 30 minutes of delivery and we waited to cut the cord. It was neat to see the cord go completely white and limp as we waited for all of the blood to be delivered to Max. Jay cut the cord and Kori bagged up my placenta so that I could have it encapsulated. Shortly after he was born, the birth assistant, a dear friend of mine, arrived. I was disappointed that she had missed the actual birth but it was wonderful to see her and spend time with her afterwards. That is one neat thing about being involved in the local birth community - your birth team is composed of some of your closest friends. Although I did have to laugh when she helped to get a pad on me after the birth. How many of us have friends that have lifted us up to put underwear on us, or helped check out if we had a tear after childbirth?! Thankfully, I had just a minor first degree tear that did not require any stitches. I was thrilled to hear that! I had had second degree tears and stitches with both of my previous deliveries.
About an hour after Max was born my in-laws arrived with Oliver and Lucy. It was a precious moment to hear them come into the birthing center and know that they were going to meet their baby brother. I was so glad that Jennifer stuck around and got pictures of them meeting Max. So many wonderful memories.
We ended up sticking around the birth center for several hours after the birth. I ate some food, rested, and visited with some close family. Also, my midwife from Lucy's birth that I mentioned before came to visit us. That was so special to see her and her daughter. It added another memory to an already amazing day. Just about the time that I thought we might be getting ready to head home, I felt so incredibly tired all of a sudden. Lucy was next to me wanting to eat french fries and I could barely feed her. I felt bad because we had already been there for a few hours, but I talked to Candice (my friend who was the birthing assistant and was sticking around with us until we left) and she said it was fine if I wanted to take a nap before we left. Thank goodness. I slept for awhile, and then took a quick shower and got ready to head home. I felt like a new person after some sleep and a shower. Thank you, Candice, for staying that extra time and allowing us to enjoy our day at the center. I know it was much longer than a normal postpartum stay and I want you to know how much we appreciate you letting us stay.
Shortly after 8:00 that night (about 7.5 hours after Max was born) we packed up and headed home. Before we left we flew the "Its a Boy!" flag outside of the center. That was fun. Oliver kept saying it was the "Its a Brother!" flag.
As nervous as I was about having Max, he has truly been an incredible baby. The week after he was born we spent at home, just relaxing and getting to know each other. It was really one of the best weeks of my life. It was so healing to me in more ways than one. I was loving having a newborn again and I couldn't get enough of him. At the end of the week we had to call and schedule his first casting appointment to correct his clubfoot, and that was hard. I really feel like my peaceful birth experience set me up for a good start with Max, and gave me a good foundation to handle his treatment. At the time that I am writing this birth story, Max has had 3 casts and will soon get his 4th. The correction is going well and we have been blessed.
When I think of Max's labor and delivery, the thing that sticks out to me the most was the love and support I felt. I had the perfect birth team for me- my husband, my midwife, my doula, my birth photographer, and my parents. Everyone played a special role. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a huge believer in natural birth. But I didn't walk away from Max's birth thinking that everyone should have a natural birth because I did and mine was great. I walked away thinking (and wishing) that every woman should feel as loved and supported during their birth as I did.
On Sunday, September 29, 2013 Jay and I welcomed our third baby into the world. A precious baby boy, Max Christopher was born at 12:25 pm weighing 8 lbs 5 oz and measuring 20 inches long.
This was going to be my second natural birth. With our first child, I had had a typical OB hospital birth experience. I was induced at 37 weeks 2 days due to high blood pressure (not pre-eclampsia) and had an epidural that did not work well. Afterwards, I gained so much faith in my body and decided to go a different route for my second birth. During my second pregnancy, I switched from my OB to a midwife when I realized I did not want to have to fight for the birth I wanted. I was almost 34 weeks pregnant when I switched and it was one of the best decisions of my life. I had a lovely natural hospital birth. My midwife with my second birth has become a dear friend of mine. She switched jobs after my daughter, Lucy, was born, and the day I found out she would not be my midwife for any future babies I cried! Thankfully, I found another wonderful midwife for my third pregnancy and birth. This would be my first out of hospital birth at a freestanding birthing center, and I couldn't wait.
My pregnancy with Max was unlike either of my previous pregnancies. The first couple of weeks reminded me a lot of my first pregnancy with smells bothering me, sickness especially at night, and sore breasts. I began to think "hmm, maybe another boy?" Over the weeks, however, many of those symptoms faded except for the sickness which lasted all day for weeks. I had hoped that if it was going to follow my first pregnancy I would get past the morning sickness by around week 10 or so just like I did before. No such luck! I was continuing to feel nauseated and would throw up well past the halfway mark in my pregnancy. I remember the week of my big ultrasound (23 weeks) I had just started to feel good. At that point, I was thinking, "Well, maybe its actually a girl!" since I was also so sick when I was carrying Lucy.
Just as I started to get past the sickness, I had my ultrasound that revealed we were having another baby expected to have clubfoot. (And we were having a boy!) Our first child, Oliver, had been born with bilateral (both feet) clubfoot in 2008. We had been through this once, and that did not provide a bit of comfort. Instead, it made me realize how hard this was going to be. This wrecked me in ways that I was not prepared for. Despite my strong Christian faith, I was angry at God for giving us this challenge. I felt like I went from being sick all the time to being a mess over how we were going to take care of this baby and his foot. The doctor that we had used for Oliver's clubfeet and absolutely loved was no longer practicing; I also found that out the day of my ultrasound. I spent the next 2 months losing countless hours of sleep as I worried about what we were going to do. I researched like a crazy person for a new doctor. The weight of the care our son needed burdened me and, admittedly, stole a lot of the joy from my pregnancy. I have always enjoyed being pregnant, but this time I did not. I feel awful admitting that but it is true. On top of everything else, this pregnancy was extremely painful for me. I had many symptoms of SPD, where just walking was excruciating and by the end of the day I would often just break down in tears as to how much pain I was in just from doing the bare minimum of everyday activities. In previous pregnancies, I was uncomfortable of course. But this time I was really affected by the pain and had to stop doing things very early on. At one point Jay asked me if I still wanted to have more children after this, and I replied, "Let me first forget how horrible this pregnancy has been."
Despite the physical pain, and emotional and mental anguish of preparing for another clubfoot baby, I did not wish away the pregnancy. In fact, there were times when I was panicked about how quickly it was going by. At one appointment with my midwife, I was waiting back in the room and I realized that soon I would be going to every week appointments. I got out my phone, opened the calendar, and literally counted three times to make sure I was in fact that far along. It couldn't be possible! I was so worried about how I was going to handle travelling for Max's treatment since I knew Jay would not be able to go with me each time. I worried about having a newborn in the house again. There were times I literally felt scared of this baby I was carrying. Lucy, while absolutely precious and wonderful, was a *very* difficult newborn. The days, weeks, and months after she was born were some of the hardest times I can remember since we have had children. I was really worried about making it through those infant days and actually enjoying him. People would ask me if I was ready, or getting excited, as I approached my due date. I smiled and said yes, of course. I really didn't want to admit to anyone how scared I was of adding a third child.
I spent many, many appointments with my wonderful midwife, Kori, processing all of these feelings. I worried that my fears would inhibit my labor. After all, while I was still carrying him, I didn't have to deal with the clubfoot. I didn't have to deal with the doctor appointments and the travel. I didn't have to worry about the insane sleep deprivation I experienced in the past with a baby who just would.not.sleep. Ever. I just had to talk it out over and over again. Although my midwife and I had known each other before this pregnancy (I had been a doula for two of her other clients), it was during these appointments that I truly felt like she switched from being just my care provider to being my friend. I will forever be thankful for her patience and kindness to me during this time. There truly is a difference in midwifery care.
During the last 3 weeks or so of my pregnancy, I had been having sporadic contractions. Although I knew that none of them were "real" labor contractions, they certainly were painful. Some of them would wake me up at night or keep me from falling asleep in the first place. None of the painless tightening contractions that I had felt during the end of my second pregnancy. These contractions hurt. I strongly felt as though I would have the baby early, well before my due date. There was just no way, with all of the contractions and the SPD pain, that I could possibly make it to my due date. I kept reminding myself that babies don't have a calendar and they will certainly come when they are ready. But darn it all, I was in SO much pain. I could barely stand the thought of waking up pregnant for many more days. I was nesting like mad. I threw away so many bags of stuff, donated countless items, and scrubbed the heck out of our house.
By 39 weeks, I was sure that I would have the baby any day now. I just "knew". It was also around this time that one evening something really "clicked" with me and I suddenly felt a complete and total peace about the baby coming. It was so sudden and so intense. I was laying in bed one night, and suddenly I had this strong memory of laying in bed with Oliver as a baby, snuggling up to him and pressing my face into that sweet spot of a newborn's neck. Rubbing my cheek against his soft baby cheeks. The memory was so vivid that it brought me to tears, and suddenly, I was excited. All of a sudden, I could not wait to hold my baby. I wanted to meet him so very badly. I was ready.
I really hadn't expected to have that peace until I met my baby, so when I felt that around week 39, I thought he would be born any day. Sure enough, though, I made it to my due date. My 40 week appointment was on Monday, the day before my due date. I asked to have my cervix checked for the first time as I was curious if I had made any progress. When I had my first check on my due date during my second pregnancy, I was 3 cms with a bulging water sack. I was hoping I was about the same this time. It was very painful to be checked, and I found out I was about 2-3 cms and 30% effaced, but my cervix was still high. Meh. I knew it didn't mean much; I could go on for a week or more like that, or I could go into labor that night. I really wanted to have a September baby, but I still had a week for that to happen. I decided against having my membranes stripped at that point because I just didn't feel like it would do much. I was having no significant labor signs.
With Lucy's pregnancy, I had that first check on my due date, I went into labor that night, and had her the next morning. I'll admit, I kind of expected the same thing to happen this time. Of course, it didn't. Over the course of the next couple of days after my appointment I began to lose a lot of discharge. Every time I would go to the bathroom, I would check to see if I was having any sort of bloody show. That was one of my first labor signs with Lucy, but I didn't have that at all with Max. I was starting to get really impatient.
Wednesday night I went to bed, having contractions as usual, and woke up around 3 am to a painful contraction. This pain was different. It was an all over sensation that really got my attention. Oliver had come into my bed at some point, and I was trying to deal with the contractions without waking him up. All I wanted to do was get up and move around, or take a shower, or something, but I knew that if this was it, I needed to rest. I was tired, so I would drift off in between contractions that were coming anywhere from 5-10 mins apart. As soon as a contraction would hit, it was like my body would come "alive". That is the only word I could think of during the pain. I would go from being sleepy and out of it to being extremely aware of every sensation in my body. This went on for about two hours. I texted Jay at work to let him know that I would most likely be needing him to come home, that I thought I was in labor and if this continued I would need help once the kids were awake.
The next thing I knew, I woke up and it was 7 am. Two hours had passed, and my contractions had gone away. "Damn it!" was all I could think. I couldn't believe it. I called my mom and was in tears over how exhausted I was. She and my dad ended up coming up from Indy for the day to help with the kids. I spent the afternoon in my bedroom. I spent time on my hands and knees and doing various positions to try to get baby in a good position in case that was why my labor hadn't really kicked in the previous night. I really wanted to go to the chiropractor, but had absolutely no energy or desire to leave the house. I slept for awhile, and when I woke up later that afternoon I had some more contractions. I ate dinner that night, a meal from Casa's, and ended up throwing it all back up. Gross. I called my midwife to give her a heads up about the night before and that maybe the contractions I was feeling would get going once the kids were in bed for the night.
No such luck. I woke up the next morning still pregnant. I got the kids ready for the day and my mother-in-law came and got Oliver to take him to preschool and took Lucy for the day. My parents had spent the night so that I didn't have to drive up to Auburn for my prenatal appointment by myself. We left early so that I could eat a big breakfast that was required before my ultrasound. They were going to do a biophysical profile to check on the baby.
Everything looked perfect on the ultrasound. I had never had an ultrasound so late in my pregnancy (obviously, since I had never gone past my due date), and I was amazed at how big he looked on the screen. His face looked so real, so full, so precious! He had his hand up by his face and it was incredible to see him. I was even more excited to meet this sweet little baby.
I decided to be checked again. I wanted to know if the contractions I had had that week, as well as some of the discharge I had experienced, had helped me make any progress. Sure enough I was 4 cms, 70% effaced, and my cervix was lower and more in the front than the Monday earlier that week. In fact, the exam was barely even uncomfortable. Because of that, I asked her to strip my membranes. In some ways, I'm kind of surprised I did that. It tends to go against my whole "wait it out" mentality, but really, I was just so done. I knew there was a possibility it wouldn't do anything, and I was ok with that. But if it helped things along with what I had already experienced, well ok then.
Its funny when I look back at my last two pregnancies, labors, and deliveries. Both were natural births with a midwife. But the first time I did it this way, I really wanted to do things MY way which really meant "nothing like what an OB does". I felt like I had to prove to...myself? others? I dont really know...that birth didnt have to be anything like what we hear. A woman doesn't have to have all of these vaginal exams. They didn't need to have an IV during labor. They don't have to do xyz to have a baby. But this last time, I didn't feel that need to prove anything. If I wanted to have my cervix checked, I was going to do it. If I wanted to have my membranes stripped, I was going to do it and not worry about how anyone might judge that. I was truly taking control over my own experience.
Friday night after my appointment, we went to my in-laws for dinner and to drop Oliver off for his regular Friday night sleepover with his cousins. I couldn't eat much, and again I was having regular contractions every 10 mins. They weren't extremely painful, but they certainly got my attention and they reminded me of early labor with Lucy. By the time we were ready to go, I had to stop while putting Lucy in her carseat to work through one of them. Hmm, I thought, this could be good. I expected to get her to sleep and then have things really pick up.
Sure enough, after about 3 hours of having contractions, they stopped. Again. I was frustrated and tired and fairly certain I was going to be pregnant forever. I was irrationally upset that I was certainly NOT going to have the September baby I had hoped for. I got a decent night's sleep that night, but I was so uncomfortable and worn down the next day that it didn't seem to matter much.
Saturday night I desperately wanted to get out of the house for awhile. We considered going to the grocery store, but it was already about 6:00 by the time we got ready and we didn't really want to keep the kids up late that night. Jay was also worried that I would go into labor while we were shopping in Fort Wayne, and then we'd have to come home, get the kids ready to go to my ILs, etc etc. He worried that since I was already 4 cms that things would go quickly. (Actually, I had tons of people tell me during that last week about how they had had nights of contractions similar to mine, and then once labor started, BAM. It was quick and intense and over with in just a couple of hours.) I scoffed at his concern about a fast labor, because, after all, I was going to be pregnant forever. I was even getting annoyed thinking about all of my friends who had gone into labor and had their babies before their due dates.
We ended up just going for a short walk, and I commented about halfway through that I was really glad we had decided to skip on the grocery trip. Just the amount of walking we were doing was painful and almost too much for me at that point. We came home and got the kids ready for bed, and Jay asked me if tonight was the night I would have the baby. I snapped at him something like, "Yeah, how would I know". (Sorry, sweetie!) I was irritated about everything at that point and knew I wouldn't have faith in my contractions if they did in fact start up.
During the last few weeks of my labor, I really needed time at night to be by myself. I didn't want any company, I just wanted alone time in my room to get into my "zone". I spent a lot of time praying, talking to Max, and focusing on good labor and delivery thoughts. I read Peggy Vincent's "Baby Catcher" book, especially the story where she talks about the clubfoot baby. That night I did those same things, all the while sitting on my birth ball. Bounce, bounce, bounce. Roll my hips. Willing, begging, pleading for labor to start. I was facebook messaging with a friend of mine. I had been her doula for her last delivery, so she is one of those "anything goes" friends. Around midnight, I had to pee, so I got up off of my ball, and I literally felt something fall out of me. I went to the bathroom, and passed a HUGE glob of mucus plug. I told my friend about it, and we both thought that maybe I was going to have this baby soon. Then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking.
Sure enough, though, it wasn't long at all after I passed the mucus plug that contractions started. Holy crap. These HURT. They were coming every 5 minutes or so and lasting over a minute. I still had a hard time believing they were going to stick around, but something in me told me that this was probably it. I tried to rest but it was impossible. I double-checked everything in my bags and made sure the kids had clothes ready for the next day. I got the bags around and headed downstairs where Jay was. I told him I thought I was in labor but was trying to wait and see what happened.
At 1:40 am I called my doula to let her know what was going on. I wasn't ready for her to come or anything, but I was pretty positive that I'd be needing her that night. I felt calm and in control. As I was up doing things, my contractions got much closer, every two and a half minutes or so, but not lasting as long, maybe 45 seconds. I started to get confused as to what was going on, and decided to call my midwife. She asked me if there was any reason why I felt like this wasn't real labor, and I said my doubts were mainly because of the other nights I had had contractions start and then stop. I didn't want to call everyone and get to the birth center and then have to go home and waste anyone's time. She told me I didn't need to worry about that; if it happened, it happened. I told her about the strange pattern, and she suggested that I take 30 minutes and put my phone away (I was timing them with a contraction timing app) and just relax. I agreed that this was a good idea as I was starting to go nuts with timing them. I told her I would take the next half hour and then decide what seemed best after that. I put away my phone, set the kitchen timer for 30 minutes, and sat on my birth ball, and watched a funny TV show with Jay. After the timer went off, I decided to see what was going on with my contractions and had Jay start timing them again. They were back to every 5 minutes lasting about a minute. Around 3 am I decided this was it.
I had a list of people I needed to call. I called my mom, because she lives about two hours from the birthing center and it was important for me that she was there. I called my doula back and let her know this was it! We decided she would just meet me at the birthing center. Jay called his parents to come over and stay with the kids so that we didn't have to get them out of bed. I called my midwife back and let her know this was it, and that once my in-laws came we would be leaving. I called my birth photographer so that she could meet us at our house and follow us to the center. This was really happening!
I really don't remember the time between calling people and leaving. Contractions were already taking all of my attention and I just wanted to get the 45 minute drive to Auburn out of the way. I grabbed a towel to sit on in the van just in case my water broke. I decided to sit in the very back row so that I could lay down or move around more if I needed to. Once everyone got to the house I remember Jay filling his parents in on what they needed to know, and me telling Jennifer (my birth photographer) that the contractions were about every 5 minutes. I walked out of the house in the middle of Jay telling his parents something because I just couldn't be around anyone during a contraction.
The drive to the center was as bad as I expected. I knew my contractions were still about every 5 minutes, and occasionally I would notice the time and start to dread when I expected another one to hit. Every bump on the road felt awful and I was remembering why I wanted a home birth- to avoid the drive!! I was cursing the stupid fair that Auburn had going on that meant we had a detour in town and the drive was even longer. Once we got to the stoplight by the hospital, I remember thinking that I only had enough time left before we got to the center to have one more contraction. Thank goodness.
We got to Auburn Birthing Center sometime after 4 am, and as soon as we were parked in the garage I said, "Get me out of here" and quickly climbed out of the van. I remember seeing something in the garage labelled "Precipitous Birth Kit" or something like that. Another contraction hit and I thought, "I'm so glad I made it here to labor at the birth center, but I'm so jealous that some moms are already done when they get here!"
I went inside and saw my doula and my midwife. It was so quiet and peaceful. I could tell that I already felt so comfortable; there was no "re-adjusting" to my new space to feel "safe" again like when I was in the hospital. This was exactly where I wanted to be and I was so thankful for the chance to be there. My contractions were coming regularly, about every 5 minutes, and lasting 45 seconds. In between contractions I settled into the room I had chosen beforehand (the "circle room", appropriately named because of its decorations). Despite my intentions to walk around the birth center and labor other places, once I settled into this room I didn't leave until after he was born. As soon as I sat on the edge of the bed to talk to my midwife, a contraction hit and I went down onto my hands and knees on the floor to cope through it.
I asked to be examined and it was determined that I was 6 cm, 100% effaced, and baby was at 0 station. I asked Kori to remind me what the stations meant, and she explained to me that he was in line with my pelvis, but not to worry too much about the details. I remember being thrilled that I was 6 cms. Only 4 left to go! Surely I would hit transition soon and it wouldn't be long. I started to worry that my parents may not make it there in time. I sent my mom a text updating her and she sent one back saying to tell baby Max to slow down. Yeah right, I thought! I sent one back saying, "Tell Dad to hurry up!!" I had worship music playing and my doula was helping me by doing hip squeezes and other things to help me during contractions.
Around 5 am I made my way into the tub. I was hesitant to get in too early because the water had slowed my labor down with Lucy. But the thought of being in the water sounded so good. I wanted a water birth, but had also wanted that with Lucy, and was ok with doing whatever felt right at the time. Sure enough, the water just did not feel right. Contractions seemed to slow down, and I wasn't going to wait and see what happened this time. I felt sick to my stomach and almost threw up. At that point, I was done with the tub and wanted out. Getting in and out of that huge tub was such a pain. As soon as I got out I was so cold and shaking uncontrollably. I hadn't completely ruled out the idea of using the tub again at some point that night, but the thought of dealing with the shaking in case I wanted out again made up my mind. No more tub.
My parents arrived just before 6 am. I was out of the tub and laying on my left side. I remember someone putting a blanket or sheet or something over me to cover me when my dad walked in to say hello and I shoved it aside. Someone explained that my dad was in the room and they were just covering me up a bit and I said, "I do not care!! Get it off of me!" I soon asked for another check. For some reason, knowing my dilation was really important to me this time. I found out I was 7.5 cms and baby was still at 0 station.
I was determined to push this along if I could. At this point I have to rely heavily on my doula's notes because I don't remember much of this. I was very tired from the lack of sleep in the overnight hours, but I pressed on trying different positions to encourage labor progress. I tried hands and knees and alternated that with side-lying. Jay showed me some pictures of Oliver and Lucy on my phone. I also used the birth stool. Jay rubbed my back and held my hand. Amber, my doula, applied pressure on different places on my lower back and hips. The contractions continued to be so very intense. I didn't want anyone joking or talking to me during a contraction, and I remember feeling like it was never going to end. I just wanted to go home. It seemed as though I was having signs of transition. The one bad thing (for me) about having a lot of knowledge about birth is that I found myself frequently analyzing my labor in an attempt to figure out where I was at and how much longer it would last. Did contractions seem to be getting closer together? Did I feel like giving up? Was this transition, which meant pushing would be soon? I was feeling a lot more pressure and thought surely I was making a lot of progress. I was scared of pushing against a cervical lip like I had experienced during Lucy's labor, so I asked for yet another exam. At 7:55 am I had another check that showed I was still 7.5 cms.
I see why exams can be both good and bad. It was so discouraging to hear that I had not made any progress in dilation. I had experienced all of those horribly painful contractions and yet I was still 7.5 cms. I talked some with my doula, who asked what was going on in my mind. I told her I was just so tired, and so ready to be done. I felt like it was never going to end. I really wasn't having any problems "releasing" my baby to be born; mentally I was very ready. The worry that dealing with his clubfoot may inhibit my labor did not actually happen. My labor was just so very slow. Hearing that I had not progressed took me off the ledge that I was on of extreme pain and brought me back to reality to "ok, I need to figure out how to deal with these contractions." Kori offered to break my water but I declined. My mom was sitting next to me and I told her I really did not want my water broken. In between contractions my midwife asked if there was a specific reason why I didn't want that done. In all the talking I had done with her during my prenatal appointments, I had never gotten around to telling her that that was one thing I had regretted from Lucy's labor. I really wanted to experience what it was like to have my water break on its own. Kori said she did not feel that breaking my water would necessarily speed things up that much anyway, and that was all I needed to hear to know I definitely did not want it done.
At 8:30 am I decided I needed time just with Jay. I felt badly, but I kicked everyone else out of the room. I desperately needed rest. And similarly to how I needed that quiet time during my pregnancy to just get in my zone with Max, I now needed to do that again. Kori had reminded me at some point that I needed to stop fighting my body and welcome the contractions (I had started saying "Nooo, no no no not again" during contractions because of the pain). I knew she was right, and part of me felt guilty for acting that way! I've been on the other side, as a doula, and know that women go through a wide range of actions and emotions during labor. I've been able to let go of that guilt this time; after Lucy's birth it took me weeks to process how I acted during labor and get over the embarrassment I felt.
Being alone was exactly what I needed. I knew that people were waiting on me, but that was ok. Kori had given me the option of either walking around the center and trying some various things to progress labor, or laying down and resting. It is hard to describe, because in my mind I was already up and walking around and laboring elsewhere. But it was like my body was absolutely drawn to that bed. I wish I could say I had made the conscious decision to labor in bed for awhile, but I made no such decision. It was made for me. I knew that in order to complete this task of birthing my baby, I had to lay down and rest. I absolutely had to. I had no idea how long I would lay there, but the choice truly was made for me by my body's need for rest. We turned off my music, and everyone left. The support I felt with everyone in the room was wonderful, but with each contraction I just became over-stimulated. I felt the pain, I felt everyone's touch, I was praying in my mind, I was analyzing my labor. It was just too much.
I laid on my sides with pillows between my legs. The pain was so incredibly intense. Its crazy how a woman's body can handle that sort of pain. I kept thinking, "This is never going to end. If only I knew what time he was going to be born, I could see an end to this. But I can't. There is no end to this pain." But I took Kori's advice of welcoming the contractions, realizing that each one was bringing my baby to me. Believe it or not, I actually was able to smile during some of my contractions! Granted, Jay was next to me asleep and no one else was in the room, so maybe I wasn't smiling. But it sure felt like it. I began to think, "Yes, Max. Come to me. Do what you..." and at some point the thought trailed off into the haze of pain. At some point earlier in my labor I had started to panic because it was so hard to breathe during a contraction, and my doula reminded me that yes, I could breathe and to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Oh my goodness, that helped so much! While I was laying there resting, I would feel a contraction come on and I would breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. In my mind I was picturing this circle of breath coming into my body and leaving. I had my hands together, fingers intertwined, and would feel my hands tightening up. I desperately tried to relax because even my fingers felt the pain of the contractions. Surely this had to end soon because my body couldn't continue to handle it. During contractions I could feel the baby moving down. I couldn't hold back as my body would push him down. I could tell these weren't actual pushes, because as I would start to push, it was like the baby would hit a wall and it would get extremely painful, and I would have to back off. But I knew things were happening.
Kori continued to check on me every once in awhile and listen to the baby. He sounded great, and she assured me that as long as I was okay with labor progressing this way that I was doing fine. I certainly wasn't ok with labor progressing so slowly, but again, I really didn't feel like I had a choice in the matter. I absolutely needed that rest.
At 10:10 another check showed that I was 8-9 cm. I asked my doula to come join me again as I was having some really bad back pain. I've never felt such tightening and horrible pain in my back. It didn't go away between contractions but it certainly intensified during them. I could no longer lay on my side. Amber used massage as I went back into hands and knees position to try to relieve some of the back pain. I tried laying over the birth ball as well and that felt awful. My arms were tired so I went back to the birth stool. At one point I had to hold onto the sides of the birth stool and lock my arms, basically lifting myself up because I couldn't stand the pressure of sitting. My doula asked if having my arms that way helped, and again, I felt as though it was just something I had to do. After awhile, I was able to relax them. Jay supported me from behind, and being able to lay back onto him was so comforting. Amber was in front of me, holding my hands. There was something very tender and sweet about just being able to reach out and hold a friend's hand during the pain. I felt extremely loved and supported during the entire process. I had some birth affirmation cards with me, and Amber read scripture aloud. I rested in the knowledge that God had created this entire birthing process and He does not make mistakes. I could surely handle this because God had designed my body to do this. Both of my natural labors and deliveries have been extremely spiritual for me. I have had to rely on God's help to get me through because I knew I couldn't do it on my own. It was an act of obedience on my part to wait for my baby to come and to come into this world in the way God had designed it. I don't know that other Christian women feel this way, as this has just been a personal conviction of mine.
I was later told that I became very inward and remained composed during contractions. Although I can see now that that was true, its a very strange thing to be experiencing the worst pain of your life and other people not necessarily realize it. I remember Jay talking to me during one contraction and I could barely speak but I managed to say, "Quiet, I'm contracting." All I could see, feel, and sense was PAIN. How anyone else was functioning normally around me without this pain was just incomprehensible. It was just so consuming. At times I would cry out, moan, pray aloud, or grunt while my body worked to push my baby down.
At 11:23 am, I felt a little "pop" as my water broke while sitting on the birth stool. I had felt what I thought was a pop earlier in labor, but my water was still intact after that one, so I wasn't really sure what this pop was. Amber and I noticed some white "stuff" in the fluid that had leaked while I was sitting on the birth stool, so she went and got Kori. Kori thought it may have been some vernix and that my water had broken. "Cool," I thought, "I got to experience my water breaking. But really, that was quite uneventful." I expected a gush or something, but it was not very dramatic at all.
I kept saying that I felt like this would last forever, and even apologized to Jay at some point. I told him I just wanted him to be proud of me. He assured me that he was and that I was doing great. I felt very connected to him during this labor, and it was a wonderful bonding experience for us.
I got off of the birth stool and wanted to be back on my hands and knees. Again, this was a position that I spent a lot of time in during my pregnancy to relieve discomfort and it was my go-to position during labor as well. I pushed for a few contractions while I leaned over the side of the bed. I remember saying I felt a lot of pressure, and a lot in my bottom like I had to poop. I knew that that was a good thing. I got back onto the bed in hands and knees position and was pushing before I even realized that I really WAS pushing. It was all just my body taking over and doing what it needed to do to get Max out.
It was time. My mom and Jennifer were still out of the room from when I kicked everyone out earlier and suddenly, I was scared that everyone was going to miss it. I kept saying I wanted Jennifer in there for pictures, that she couldn't miss taking the pictures! I knew the baby was coming, and soon, and yet it seemed like everyone else was remaining calm and unhurried. I had a moment of panic that no one believed me that this baby was coming NOW! Amber was on my left, fanning me with a paper fan which felt amazing. Jay was on my right, and my mom was behind me (I think).
Now this is the part that I definitely did not see coming or ever expected. During my pregnancy, I had thought about how my dad would be there at the birthing center. I had toyed with the idea that if I was in the tub having a water birth, it might be neat for my dad to come into the room as Max was born so he could experience the birth of one of his grandchildren. Well, I obviously was not in the tub and yet just as Max was about to be born, I decided I wanted my dad in there. I can't explain it. Here I am giving birth and I want my dad in the room. I remember yelling for him and he didn't come. Other people yelled for him and he got in the room just in time. After the fact, part of me is somewhat embarrassed yet I am still glad I did it. Anyone that knows me well knows that my dad and I have had a lot of ups and downs in our relationship. It was very special to me that he was part of Max's birth.
My body truly took over as I was pushing. I felt the stretching, and the burning. At one point, I felt my body stretching and then I felt the baby go back up. Ugh, no!!! I did not want to have an extremely long pushing phase like I did with Lucy. But the next contraction I felt him stay down, and I knew it wasn't going to be long before my baby was born. My midwife encouraged me to do little pushes to decrease the chance of me tearing, and my body immediately started to do little "puffs" of breaths to slow down. Max's head was born, and unlike Lucy's birth where her head, shoulders and body were quickly born all at once, I had to wait for another contraction to push his body out. That felt like forever!! Here I was on my hands and knees with his head out of me and I had to wait. I couldn't see anything and everyone else was talking about how his head was out. At one point it felt like he moved and I practically yelled, "What is he doing?!" because it truly felt like he was trying to crawl back inside of me. Kori laughed and said, "He's yawning!" All I could think (and I believe someone actually said this..Kori maybe? or me?) was, "Is he bored?!?" What the heck little dude, you're halfway born and you're yawning?!? :)
The next contraction came and Max was born. I was still on my hands and knees and could see him come down onto the bed, although because of the position I was in it felt like he fell onto the bed. (My doula later reassured me that it was in fact quite controlled the way he came down.) I breathed a huge sigh of relief and reached down to pick up my baby.
The feeling of meeting my baby was absolutely incredible. There are truly no words. Its that moment where all you can think is, "My baby is here! I did it! Its over!" I was so extremely happy. I just wanted to laugh! He was perfect. I learned that the cord had been wrapped twice around his neck, but at no time during my labor did he show any signs of distress. Thank goodness. I really can't imagine if I had had to transport to the hospital. I truly feel that my labor was able to progress and I was able to reach completion mainly because of the peaceful environment I was in. It had been nearly 8 hours from when I was first checked and I was 6 cms to when Max was finally born.
There were quite a few tears as we heard Max's first cry that just seemed to go on and on. He was so perfect. I saw his foot, and instead of making me sad, it was just part of who he was. The clubfoot may have stolen joy from my pregnancy, but it stole nothing from my moment of meeting my son. He was perfect, and he was ours.
I just held onto him as I was still there on my knees in the bed. I had no idea how I was supposed to move out of that position, so thankfully others helped me get turned around and settled. My placenta came out within 30 minutes of delivery and we waited to cut the cord. It was neat to see the cord go completely white and limp as we waited for all of the blood to be delivered to Max. Jay cut the cord and Kori bagged up my placenta so that I could have it encapsulated. Shortly after he was born, the birth assistant, a dear friend of mine, arrived. I was disappointed that she had missed the actual birth but it was wonderful to see her and spend time with her afterwards. That is one neat thing about being involved in the local birth community - your birth team is composed of some of your closest friends. Although I did have to laugh when she helped to get a pad on me after the birth. How many of us have friends that have lifted us up to put underwear on us, or helped check out if we had a tear after childbirth?! Thankfully, I had just a minor first degree tear that did not require any stitches. I was thrilled to hear that! I had had second degree tears and stitches with both of my previous deliveries.
About an hour after Max was born my in-laws arrived with Oliver and Lucy. It was a precious moment to hear them come into the birthing center and know that they were going to meet their baby brother. I was so glad that Jennifer stuck around and got pictures of them meeting Max. So many wonderful memories.
We ended up sticking around the birth center for several hours after the birth. I ate some food, rested, and visited with some close family. Also, my midwife from Lucy's birth that I mentioned before came to visit us. That was so special to see her and her daughter. It added another memory to an already amazing day. Just about the time that I thought we might be getting ready to head home, I felt so incredibly tired all of a sudden. Lucy was next to me wanting to eat french fries and I could barely feed her. I felt bad because we had already been there for a few hours, but I talked to Candice (my friend who was the birthing assistant and was sticking around with us until we left) and she said it was fine if I wanted to take a nap before we left. Thank goodness. I slept for awhile, and then took a quick shower and got ready to head home. I felt like a new person after some sleep and a shower. Thank you, Candice, for staying that extra time and allowing us to enjoy our day at the center. I know it was much longer than a normal postpartum stay and I want you to know how much we appreciate you letting us stay.
Shortly after 8:00 that night (about 7.5 hours after Max was born) we packed up and headed home. Before we left we flew the "Its a Boy!" flag outside of the center. That was fun. Oliver kept saying it was the "Its a Brother!" flag.
As nervous as I was about having Max, he has truly been an incredible baby. The week after he was born we spent at home, just relaxing and getting to know each other. It was really one of the best weeks of my life. It was so healing to me in more ways than one. I was loving having a newborn again and I couldn't get enough of him. At the end of the week we had to call and schedule his first casting appointment to correct his clubfoot, and that was hard. I really feel like my peaceful birth experience set me up for a good start with Max, and gave me a good foundation to handle his treatment. At the time that I am writing this birth story, Max has had 3 casts and will soon get his 4th. The correction is going well and we have been blessed.
When I think of Max's labor and delivery, the thing that sticks out to me the most was the love and support I felt. I had the perfect birth team for me- my husband, my midwife, my doula, my birth photographer, and my parents. Everyone played a special role. Anyone that knows me knows that I am a huge believer in natural birth. But I didn't walk away from Max's birth thinking that everyone should have a natural birth because I did and mine was great. I walked away thinking (and wishing) that every woman should feel as loved and supported during their birth as I did.
Congrats; he's a cutie!
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