- Phillipians 4:13
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I am a Mama just like you! These are my personal birth stories.
I'm not one to usually share these without request, but really, they played quite a roll in developing me into the woman/wife/mother/sister/doula that I am... I hope you are blessed by them.
BIRTH #1: Jordan Albert - 6 lbs 14 oz
*WARNING* This is not a pleasant story... but don't stop reading here! This was a great lesson learned and much good has come from this. Keep reading!
Like I mentioned in my "Meet the Doula" section, I had a few real life lessons to learn. This birth was a real education! I was little educated in one area. The hospital. Now before anyone assumes I am anti-hospital, let me explain...
Women are in the grocery store when their water breaks right? Or they get gripped in the middle of the night by a torrent of surges (aka contractions)... *smile*
Well there I was, six days before I "expected" Jordan to arrive, six states away from anyone who loved me or could support me (besides my super rad husband -- it's just that he so happened to also be a newbie in the birth biz) and at the complete mercy of the Labor and Deliver floor of our hospital with a...
stomach ache. No contractions. No broken water. And being that this was my first time, I didn't know if maybe a constant stomache ache for an entire day and a half meant something... Maybe? They (the hospital staff, not my doctor, as it was the weekend) said to come in to get "checked".
Harmless enough... We packed up and went.
External examination after internal examination after internal examination, after monitor analysis, etc... Still nothing. I was NOT in labor. I was admitted, water was broken and put directly on pitocin.
Babies heart consistantly dropping below 90.
Nurses opening the door yelling, "roll over!"
Oxygen strapped to my face, blood pressure on one arm, IV inserted in the other, as well as internal fetal monitoring. And no help to get rolled over, mind you.
Crank up the "Pit".
Back labor.
Stadol made me feel like I was in a boat on the ocean.
Couldn't focus.
Crank up the "Pit".
Nurse slamming open door again and again... "Flip over!"
...all of this for, and thank my Lord, ONLY 9.5 hours. None of which I'd wish on anyone.
My urge to push came and I begged and pleaded -- "please, please, please, please, please, please, etc... let me push" and again, "please, please...."
The resident on duty flashed her attention to me and barked, "You are only at 9 1/2... Do you want to tear your cervix????" -- well, no, I don't... but then again, I am fighting an uncontrollable urge here. A vet nurse came in and gave me the go ahead to gently push to nudge away the remaining lip. Thank you to that nurse whoever she was!
45 minutes of purple pushing (blood shot eyes and broken vessels all over my face and neck... I must have been pretty purple when I was pushing!! *smile*). Then, "Here's your baby!" and not even 30 secs later "Okay, that's enough for now...". And there, proceeded with proceedure. You must know here, that there were no complications with his heart rate dropping... he had great Apgar scores and began fiercely crying right off the bat... It was just the routine exam, shots, eye drops, bath, etc...
45 minutes (all of which he was screaming... I have the video of it that I can no longer even watch) later he was finally allowed back in to my arms.
"Make sure he is nursing every two hours!" ...okay..??.
Never done that. Read a lot about it. Still... never done it.
"Can you send in the Lactation Consultant for me?"
"Unfortunately she is unable to come in since it is the weekend." ... okay..??.. So -- no one ever came. I figured it out on my own. Nursed 17 months strong, that boy did.
36 or so hours later..."Bye-bye now! Ya'll come back now, ya hear!"
No thanks. I didn't know much, but I knew I wasn't going back there.
Now - Please understand, this is NOT my "anti-hospital" story. This is NOT my "birth is horrid and traumatic" story. This is my, "Ladies everywhere!! Know your options! Don't just blindly go with whatever is posed to you as your only option!"
Regardless of it all -- Talk about empowering!! I did THAT birth. And rather well, I might add. I think I am part super-hero. And my son must be too! We went home... new lessons learned and more love in my heart than I knew was possible.
Regardless of it all -- Talk about empowering!! I did THAT birth. And rather well, I might add. I think I am part super-hero. And my son must be too! We went home... new lessons learned and more love in my heart than I knew was possible.
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All of that and I will say, hospital births can be quite pleasant...
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BIRTH #2: Nia Reece - 8 lbs 1 oz
We moved cross country when I was 6 months pregnant (meaning: a new hospital... northwest coastal town).
My sister in-law had her baby six weeks prior. Yay for cousins, being born close in age... except for, at that point, I wasn't really in a positive state of mind. She had naturally gone in to labor three weeks early and I had my last baby, albeit unpleasant as it was, six days early... And here I am on my "due date."
My dad had been there for a week already to help with Jordan and he was there at the fore-end of his busiest season at work. He couldn't stay forever.
My doctor didn't come right out with the offer, but did mention that he could induce me. I knew I absolutely did not want "induced" if it meant what I had gone through last time. I opted then for "the least invasive" induction. We scheduled for Tuesday.
I woke Tuesday morning with bloody show. That did a lot to soothe my guilt over agreeing to the induction. I knew I wasn't bringing this baby much sooner than my body was already preparing to do. Although, now that seems to sound all the more rediculous that I didn't just wait another day or two... or maybe three.
We made it there by 10 am. Was administerd Misoprostol (generic for Cytotec) at around 11:30. (I know now, that was not very invasive, maybe, but extremely dangerous! Please, do not, under any circumstance, consent to being administered Cytotec by either name. Very well meaning doctors will assure you it is safe. It most certainly is not. One of the many sites documenting this is here.)
I thank Jesus for keeping his hand on my daughter and me. I was contracting by 2 pm. It was such a different labor right off the bat. Unlike my previous birth that hurt all over my entire belly and lower back, this labor was concentrated right around the front of my pelvis. Oh the stretching! This labor was fast and furious, but I had a very attentive nurse that only occasionally, and briefly at that, left my side. Ann. She was so beautiful to me. I thought my husband and I would again be alone, but she was instrumental in helping me know that I could change positions and that I could get in the shower. I didn't have to have the routine IV or constant fetal monitoring. She watched me and told me, when she thought I was "there", that I may want to make my way back to the bed so that we could get ready to deliver this baby. I thought that was something... I was actually really confused as to how she could have known that just by watching me.
Sure enough I was a 10 and I began to grow more and more overcome and I remember I had made my way to my hands and knees on the bed, and began to feel the need to push with my body. The doctor ran in, had me turn over to the dead fly position, much to my protest, but I pushed once, twice, three times, and pop! My waters drenched my Doc and sweet Ann. I remember we had a good laugh with that. Not but a few more pushes and my perfect, precious, delightful daughter was in my arms. Ann let me keep her for a while and helped us establish breastfeeding right away. It was dreamy. She sat there and filled out all the paperwork for us. She made sure my husband was taken care of, and early the next day we were all ready for discharge.
I knew I wanted something different, something better, for this birth. I sure got it. We took the 1 hour 45 minute drive home with smiles on our faces.
This was the catalyst that got my doula fever spiking. I had to help women with the births of their most treasured joys. Because ya, it hurt, but I was so happy. All women need that support. Even ones as "educated" as myself. *smile*
Oh, and I sent Ann a card. She was exactly what I desperately needed for this birth. A doula.
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PREGNANCIES 3 and 4:
It was at this point we lost two of our much anticipated, and oh so magnificently loved babies. Our first loss we knew was coming and the day came at 10 1/2 weeks. Our second miscarriage, 7 months later, was totally unexpected at 12 weeks. I grieved deeply and at some length for both my babies.
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BIRTH #3: Samuel Warren - 8 lbs 8 oz
It was 9 months before we conceived again, and for all the healing that had taken place, not only in my body, but in my heart and mind as well, I was still really analitical (maybe overly). It didn't quite help that the early stages of pregnancy didn't quite go as smoothly as I was believing for.
I was six weeks pregnant and getting ready to move across state lines... again. The week before my second miscarriage, my friend had given me a copy of Supernatural Childbirth. It was the one thing, besides the Bible itself, that restored my faith in pregnancy -- reminding me that I could trust God completely. And I was going to do just that every single day until this baby was born. I was going to pray, think positively, and not leave an ounce of room for anything "bad".
Well, "bad" happened anyway. I started bleeding. Now, for as "perfect" as my first two pregnancies were, I just could not understand why the last three were not. I claimed the same faithfulness that God showed Hannah in 1 Samuel over this pregnancy, and prayed and prayed. I prescribed myself moderate bedrest.
The bleeding cleared up, we moved at eight weeks, and sure enough, I began bleeding again off and on for the next month when finally, at 12 weeks, I started contracting.
I resigned to doom.
I knew we were having a homebirth, but had not yet found a midwife that could help me. I ended up taking a friend to one of her prenatal appointments and her midwife was gracious enough to check for our baby's heartbeat...
music to my ears! Soft little heartbeats all with in the perfect range.
She also recommended that I take catnip to calm the contractions (even though they are quite common early on in subsequent pregnancies and come with no risk), but given my last two pregnancies she thought it to be wise. Thank you, is all I can say to her. The catnip worked.
Six months later, my husband called with the news that he had just heard that he was hired! For his dream job no less. Up until that point he was still active duty military but time was running out fast on his enlistment. This was wonderful news!
I decided to take a nap since my body just felt like it was shutting down. When I awoke, we went out to celebrate... Red Robin style! The waitress asked the familiar question:
When are you due?
I replied that it was technically seven days, but I was really expecting it to be another 14 or more... As I was waiting for my "Whiskey River BBQ Chicken Sandwich" I felt a strage contraction, nothing like any I'd ever felt...
Huh... wierd. Not another thought. (Remember, I had never gone into labor on my own up until now...)
We ate, paid, and got out to the car.
Another one. Then it hit me... "This is probably labor!" We watched and waited for a few more hours and they came steadily 45 mins to two hours apart. I called my midwife who lived in the a mountain town of Idaho at the end of December and the mountains were expecting a dumping of snow over the next few days. She packed up and headed out even though the birth could technically be days away. I am so glad she did. She went to her assistants house and waited for the call... which came at 5 am. The surges had finally gone from 30 minutes apart to 5 minutes apart within the last hour.
I was planning on a waterbirth and had the pool filled and to the right temp by 3 am and I was so looking forward to it. Our midwife arrived at 7:30 and asked if I would like to be checked. I didn't see the point... I was nowhere near delivering. I was still laughing and talking and moving and... what was the point? About another half hour went by and she said, "Why don't you just let me check you to get a gauge..."
"Okay, I am no where close, but whatever..." So I went and laid down and boy, that called on the super wave. Then she made the announcement... "You are 10 and ready to go!"
I was astonished. More than astonished. How in the world am I a 10?? I don't feel half as bad as I did early on in my last two deliveries. I didn't want to miss out on my waterbirth so I practically dove into the birth pool!
Sweet water! Oh, the comfort that overtook my senses! I love baths when I am not feeling well (I love them when I AM feeling well!), but this was something else. I'd never, ever, ever labor with out a deep pool filled with warm water again!
Well, after about an hour of being in the tub with amazingly long breaks between contractions my pushing instinct kicked in and he was born 3 contractions later. And just like his brother before him... six days "early".
Wow. Birth can be inexplicably wonderful! I was happy. I was focused. I listened. I had help when I needed it. The intensity was rewarding and I did it how I needed to do it.
My Samuel -- Because I asked the Lord for him. My blessing.
BIRTH #4: Eligh Abigail - 7 lbs 1 oz
I was sure I was not pregnant. I've felt awful for weeks, but given that I had had two full-on periods and a week of spotting all in the last 6 weeks, if I had been pregnant, there is no way I was now.
It was father's day weekend and I was going to call the doctor Monday morning to get some blood work done to find out what was so wrong with me. We were among the uninsured since leaving the Coast Guard and I thought that if I took a pregnancy test prior to going in, I could at least save the lab fee on that one (yeah, right.) I woke up Father's Day morning and took the test. I didn't even glance at it with anticipation before the two minutes were up. I took the test, washed up, got going on my hair for church and then remembered to give the test the obligatory check.
Bold as could be. I was indeed pregnant. All at once I was overjoyed and sick at heart.
Bleeding was not good. Especially not as much as I had been doing. Was I going to lose this baby too?? And on top of that, I had taken a lot of remedies to try to help myself feel better... a lot of which were not "safe" for pregnancy. Had I done more damage? What could be the reason for all of the bleeding? And again, no midwife yet (Again, we had moved!).
This baby was not as active as the rest. In fact, there would be entire weeks that would go by, up until about 26 weeks, that I would not feel her move even once. Not to mention, as I had with my last pregnancy, I began contracting at 10 weeks this time. I was a complete basket case and was absolutely positive, on more than one occasion, that our baby was gone. She never was. I was reassured by the verse in Psalm 139 that says that my baby was not hidden from God when she was being made in the secret place. I could not see... but I knew that God could. And every time I had conceeded to loss, she'd finally move.
The last ten weeks were a gift. She was big enough I felt her movements regularly, and I was eagerly anticipating her birth. I had a wonderful midwife that helped through every step of this roller coaster pregnancy, and just as her sister before her, she came 2 days past her estimated due date.
I woke at 3 am with a tightening remeniscent of the one I had with Samuel at Red Robin's. They continued at about 8 mins apart -- until I got up to get things set up. I figured labor was close anyway, so we finished up, got the pool filling and went back to bed. The surges came and went sparatically until we decided on a trip to our favorite Mexican food restaraunt and quick stop in at Walmart. It was about 4 pm when we were walking out of Walmart and i wanted to be home in the worst way... not even 5 minutes apart yet, but it was definitely for real this time. My midwife arrived at about 6 pm and again, labor was nothing unbearable.
I had kind of decided that Samuel's labor was somewhat of a fluke. My midwife kept saying, "You are closer than you think... you can get in the pool now." I couldn't believe that. I was still sane. I was still smiling. I had a looong way to go.
She was insistant that she could hear it in my tone and that I was very close. So I got in -- and again "Sweet water! Oh, the comfort that overtook my senses!"
Half an hour later, she was in my arms. Our perfect, whole, healthy baby. She had made it, and my joy overflowed. The awe of her sweet blue little face and the soggy wetness of her cry.
Birth is a gift.
I had some bleeding that wouldn't go away. --I am so sad that my midwife has hung up her gloves... rightly so for her, but what a loss to our birthing community.-- It took more than pitocin, shock tea, and herbs to get this under control and she did what was necessary with confidence and was not the least bit disuaded by my bellows. What a testimony to me of quality midwifery care and practice. My sincerest thanks to Cara.
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BIRTH #5: Luke Oliver - 9 lbs
Boy? Girl? We didn't know... My due date was March 3, but since my boys have come 6 days early and my girls came 2 days late, I naturally, albeit naively, assumed we'd have a boy if I had him on February 26 and a girl if she came on March 5. We may not have known it's sex, but we did, however, know his or her name. It was supposed to mean "light" as God had told me when I was only 10 weeks pregnant. So, it was to be Luke for a boy or Alba, Claire, Maizy, Liorah, or Len if it was a girl.
Well, Febuary 26 passed, so girl it was! That is, until March 5 passed as well... and March 6. And March 7. And March 8,9,10,11, and 12. Well, we had no idea what "it" was anymore, nor did we even know if it would come anymore! I was measuring 50 cm's already and bigger than I had ever been with any of my previous, so I was a little concerned for how challenging this labor would prove to be if the onset of labor was delayed much more.
With as big as I was getting, I still felt great! I was in the peak of health (Good nutrition! See here.), mostly energetic (though, a little anti-social at that point), not uncomfortable or swollen, and genuinely happy. And aside from the growing anticipation of seeing this baby, I was quite content to wait for its time to come.
I returned to my midwife for my weekly appointment that Monday the 12th. We had expected an earlier delivery based on my cervical changes and measurements, yet, there I was. I, for the first time in 7 pregnancies, had done precisely as the midwife had ordered... and was truly reaping the benefits! As if 10 days late is usually considered a benefit! Ha! Let me explain. I have always eaten more strictly healthy during pregnancy (although, my view of "healthy" has morphed through the years), but, for the first time, I was diligent in drinking 2-3 quarts of water and a quart of pregnancy tea a day. I took my whole-food prenatals, probiotics, cod liver oil/omegas, and liquid calcium magnesium daily, and in the last five weeks, took this five week birth preparation, faithfully. That made all the difference! At this appointment we found that I was a stretchy 5 cm dilated, 80 % effaced, +2 station (that means low), and totally ripe (soft). (That's why I said "benefits". I'd say if 10 days post-date gets you more than halfway through labor before it even starts then that's a pretty sweet trade-off!)
Uh... and I'm not in active labor? I hadn't had one single contraction. Not even many Braxton Hicks in the last couple weeks.
She sent me home and said labor was sure to be starting anytime now. Literally.
...Anytime now...
...ANY. TIME. NOW....
Or not.
Goodnight to another day...
Another day not knowing boy or girl.
Another day with empty arms and a still full belly.
.....
"Hey, girl..." I whispered in the darkness of still night. And Eligh, still not a consistant "through-the-nighter" and frequent midnight visitor, crawled up the side of our bed as I lifted the covers for her. She curled around my fullness and almost instantly was asleep again.
As I layed awake now, in the midst of night, I was disturbed again. This time from something inside me.
The long-awaited contraction.
Silently a tear rolled down my cheek and a tired smile came to my lips. I curled Eligh a little closer... our baby for two years now... as much our baby in size as she was in birth order. My little fairy. My delicate flower. I kissed her head and sniffed. She knew that tomorrow night there would be a new baby in our bed -- she was saying goodbye.
Tears still fill my eyes as I recall this tender night.
I had one more about 15 minutes later and the next thing I knew, we were awakening from a restful night's sleep to the light of morning.
And still, no more signs of labor. Until 10:15 am. Another slight contraction, and another at 11. Then nothing, again, until 2:30.
"What in the world?" I thought.
I'd been staring at my labor inducing oils and thinking about my pressure points for days now, but had not given in, believing whole-heartedly that Baby would come in God's perfect time.
It was in the 4 o'clock hour that afternoon when they started coming with any regularity. By 5:30 - 6 pm I had called my midwife. Not because of any remarkably noteable intensity to the contractions, nor was it because they were coming frequently and regularly, but for the simple reason that: When this sucker actually kicks in gear there won't be an hour for them to get here! I was at 8 cm when the midwife and her assistant got there, which was truly a shock due to it being the least painful, least rythmic labor ever. They were only slightly uncomfortable and they were anywhere from five to 20 minutes apart. I decided at about 8 o'clock or so that I might as well enjoy the birth pool while it was still warm. It sure couldn't hurt anything.
The contractions did not grow in intensity in the least and were seemingly, if not actually, getting further apart when it got to the point that I nearly told everyone to just go home. I couldn't believe this labor. It could continue in this fashion for days.
How funny it was then, not moments after I had that thought... words nearly formed on my tongue... that my bag of waters broke with a slam! What the labor had lacked for hours in power and strength, it made up for in the last 30 minutes with force.
Ahhh... here it is. Now it's baby time.
And it was.
8:52 pm -- 9 pounds -- 22 inches. Once he crowned, he shot out, body and all, in one push.
A beautifully pink, obviously healthy, big boy. I kissed his water-logged lips and thanked the God of Creation for this, yet another of His gifts given me.
Psalms 139 says:
...All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.
10 days late was perfectly perfect. In hindsight, the whole labor and birth were perfectly perfect, as well. Maybe it was a little slow and drawn out, but for as calm and painless as it was, I'd take a birth like that again, anytime.
His daddy and I are so looking forward to seeing how God fulfills the meaning of his name in his life.
Our Luke -- a light.
P.S: Eligh has never woken in the night and come to my bed since.
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For this is what the Lord has commanded us: "I have made you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring salvation to the ends of the earth." Acts 13:47
Luke's Birth Video (not graphic):
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=udxLN7DNUfQ&feature=youtu.be
