It’s a great three parter on another blog today. I went to high school with Sarah, and this is Annabel’s birth story.

wednesday 4.4.12: daytime
i think by wednesday morning i sort of knew things were . . . happening. certain signs had occurred, and i actually wondered if my water had broken in a very non-dramatic/subtle fashion [i called our OB triage nurse who seemed unimpressed by my description]. i was also just starting to feeling contractions that actually had a pain component. it was a very braxton-hicks-heavy pregnancy, so i was used to the routine tightening, but wednesday was the first time these tightenings were accompanied by a crampy sensation — really no different than period cramps, actually.

i wasn’t sure if this really meant anything, but deep down i must have known. i started tidying up my affairs — sent a final draft of the poster i had been working on to my boss, made sure the hospital bag was completely ready, and started timing the cramps to see if i could make out any pattern. during the day, they were coming fairly irregularly, every 20-30 minutes or so.

Click below to keep reading:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The rest of her blog is pretty awesome too, so check it out while you’re there!

It had been a couple months before I was willing to even think about the possibility.  I was a college student, on my own, and taking care of my self.  I can’t remember exactly why but I stopped in to the student health center on campus and was given a pregnancy test.  It came back positive and I was mortified.  I immediately texted my best friend, and from there the story and knowledge of it all started.

For the duration of my “pregnancy” I had no prenatal care, I drank regularly (I had turned 21 immediately after conception and had no knowledge of the pregnancy for several months), tried to make it to classes when I was not too tired to get out of bed and actually walk across campus.  I lived off a meal from the cafe where I worked which usually consisted of a grilled cheese with tomatoes and many cups of super strength espresso, as I was a barista for the better part of the day. I was truly in denial; I allowed it, my best friend allowed it, and I never once heard back from the health center about it.  I didn’t really show, although, I remember one mortifying moment when I was working at the Puyallup Fair and a lady mentioned she did not want to bump into the baby, I thought to myself…THE WHAT? My feet were super swollen and I was super tired.

It was very early in November when I got a phone call from my friend Brittney when she was hanging out with my best friend and another friend of ours Kerrie.  It was out: my best friend had shared the secret and now these two other friends knew.  Let the freaking out commence.  The girls were hysterical with worry and I think excitement.  I cried, a lot!  I was very upset with my best friend, but I think it was the best spiteful thing she ever did for me.

Brittney was on the ball for it all, we looked up phone numbers upon phone numbers of places and people to call.  In our search over the next two days we got in touch with a maternity case management program and made an appointment with an ob/gyn, which was difficult as no one wanted to take someone as far along as I was while having no previous prenatal care.  But we got those few appointments scheduled and we were just waiting.

The next question was, what are we going to do about ….the baby?  I had convinced myself I could not keep the baby.  So Brittney, Kerrie, and I had an appointment at an adoption agency.  There were a few families willing to accept babies from mothers who had been drinking.  I looked at their albums and they were all beautiful, but I had a sick feeling in my stomach, and it did not feel right.

That night we stayed up  late playing Uno and Kerrie got a bright idea to call her mother, over in Eastern Washington, who was a labor and delivery nurse.  The girls really wanted me to go to the hospital and get checked out, and I tried convincing them that I felt just fine, but they convinced me along with Kerrie’s mother that it would just put every one’s mind at ease.  So we got ready around 1:30AM and trudged in to the hospital and in the wake of shock, awe, and much disdain amongst the staff (due to the lack of prenatal care and knowledge of the pregnancy) we were checked in around 2AM.

They ran a lot tests, took a lot of blood, and hooked me up to a lot of monitors.  Essentially everything was going great, I was seemingly healthy and baby was seemingly healthy.  Here is where the fun part starts, precisely at 4AM they did an internal exam, which immediately put me in to labor something fierce.  I do not remember much about the labor except that it hurt, a lot.  It was really intense and happening really fast.  I remember asking for pain medication and they were rushing around getting ready to prep for an epidural.  I was being encouraged to sit up and I could not hardly move.  By the time I got to a sitting position on the side of the bed I had the urge to go to the bathroom and I shared that with the nurse, and she told me to lay back down because it was not the bathroom, it was the baby coming, whoa, really?  That was five minutes before 6AM.  I pushed and pushed and a healthy baby girl of 9 pounds and 10 ounces was born at 6:15AM.  2 hours and 15 minutes of labor from start to finish was pretty impressive.

It was around then that I knew that there was no way that I could ever give up this baby.  Although I had not really bonded with my pregnancy or baby for the duration of the pregnancy, in my heart and soul I knew she was meant for me.  It was love at first sight.

One day old

On her second day, I named her Aurora June Bronson.  I do not really know where Aurora came from it just popped in to my head, but June was my grandmother’s name, and I felt that since I was blessed with my grandmother’s name, I though it would be nice to do something similar for my daughter.

She was a huge blessing and a very “good” baby.  She slept through the night after about 2 weeks old.  She nursed well and always had a really great appetite. She was always happy and content.  I know in my heart that God meant for me to have her and everything has worked out exactly as it should.

Aurora at five years old, after losing her bottom teeth

I have learned a lot from this experience.  My second child’s birth was much different and I look forward to sharing that story soon.

I’m sending you to another blog for today’s story. Here’s Part I:

Mead’s birth story!

Born January 12, 2012 (39 weeks)

8lbs 1oz, 21 in.

On Wednesday, January 11, 2012, I went to work like normal. I was 38w6d along in my 2nd pregnancy and I had been getting all of the, “you’re still here!” comments for the past week. I joked with a coworker about how nothing was going on and I was going to be at work forever. I left a few things to finish the next morning because there was no indication that anything was going on. My first son was born at 37w2d so I had never been that pregnant before.

I left work at 4:30 as usual and headed to the birth center for my 5:30 appointment. I managed to get there a few minutes early but wasn’t taken back until 5:45. I had also delivered my son Holland there in May of 2009, and my appointment was with the nurse who helped after he was born. Greta and I really liked her so it was great to see her again. We chatted for awhile and did blood pressure, etc. The birth center doesn’t typically do cervical checks until you reach 40 weeks, but at my 37 week appointment we had the midwife check (she offered) while she was doing the GBS exam and I was 3 cm at that point. I normally wouldn’t care and would have refused that first check, but Greta was at that appointment and wanted to know. The curiosity was killing me after that check, so I asked if we could do a cervical check at this appointment and she said we could. I figured I’d see if any progress had been made over those two weeks. Around 6pm I got up on the exam table and as I sat down I felt a little gush. And then 1 or 2 more. It seemed a little weird, so I actually asked if it was normal to have increased discharge at this point in the pregnancy and she said absolutely. I laid back on the table and she measured me and felt around for the size/position of the baby (head still REALLY low) and listened to his heartbeat. She helped me sit up and said she would leave the room so I could get undressed for the cervical exam. When she left the room I got up to take off my pants and underwear and realized that my underwear was SOAKED and my pants were all wet as well. When I took everything off fluid continued to come out onto the floor. I went back and forth towards the door in the exam room trying to decide if I should go and get her or wait for her to come back. This was kind of humorous because as I kept walking back and forth I was just making a bigger mess on the floor. So she came back in and I said, “I think my water may have broken!” We thought I could have peed but I think in the back of my mind I knew that wasn’t it.

I sat back up on the exam table and fluid continued to leak out. She had me lay back again so that she could take a look with the speculum. She remarked that there was a lot of fluid pooling up in my vagina and that if someone came in like that they would have assumed that it was aminiotic fluid. However, since we had already started the process we decided that we would just test it to make sure that it was. I decided to hold off on calling Greta until we knew for sure. She put some on a slide and we waited a few minutes to see if it was ferning. She also did a pH test and we waited for that to come back. In the meantime I sat still while fluid continued to come out and she cleaned up the mess I made on the floor and went out and told the midwife on call what was going on. After alerting the midwife on call, she checked out the test strip (pH 7.5) and the microscope and confirmed that my water had indeed broken. I got instantly excited and nervous. Here we go!

The midwife on call came in and we were all just laughing about how funny the whole thing was. She went and got me a dry pair of scrubs and some pads and disposable underwear and they hooked me up to the NST machine. At this point I called Greta and told her. She was NOT expecting that at all. She had spent 3 hours at the pediatrician’s office with Holland that day and thought I was calling to say I was on my way home. I told her I’d call her back shortly with the plan because I wasn’t sure if I was going to come home or not (since nothing else was going on at that point). The NST looked great and I was having pretty good contractions every three minutes. I couldn’t feel them though; it felt like some very light, dull cramps but that was it. The midwife on call decided that I should just stick around. There was one other woman coming in who was also in labor but that was it. Her feeling was that the contractions looked good and it was a second baby and since I had a 45 minute drive home it made sense to stick around. So around 6:45pm I called Greta and told her to come. She had already called my mom and told her to make her way over because we knew that even if I ended up coming home, we’d be leaving in the morning. I had mostly packed a bag but Greta had to finish and once she did that she headed to the birth center.

While I waited for Greta to show up the midwife took me downstairs (around 7?) and let me pick a room (the other woman hadn’t arrived yet). I picked the same room that I delivered Holland in . I was starving so she brought me some menus and I ordered myself a pizza and a bottle of water to be delivered and I sat in the room. The food was delivered around 7:30ish so I sat in the kitchen area and ate some. Greta showed up just before 8pm and sat with me. During all of this I was feeling crampy but it was fine. It really just felt like my period was coming.

When I finished eating a different midwife came on. We’ll call her J and she has been there since I had Holland so I know her and like her a lot. She was actually the first midwife that we met with when my water broke with him! I told her about my stillbirth fear and she said she would be checking the heartrate every 30 minutes until I was in active labor, but she could check more often if I wanted her to. We could have either hung out in the living room and watched TV or hung out in the room and tried to rest. J said that’s what she wanted me to do – REST! So we decided to put some music on and lay in the bed in our room and just talk and see what was happening. I said several times that maybe we should just go home because I felt like I was taking up space. I asked the nurse, S, and she said it was perfectly fine to stay so we did. And I’m really glad that we did! While we were laying around we could hear the other woman laboring next door. It got me really nervous. And then all of a sudden they left for the hospital across the street for some reason and the midwife went with them and a new midwife came on. I was really disappointed by that, but J ended up coming back just in time for my delivery.

Somewhere in the 9:00pm hour I started to have some bloody show and in the 10:00pm hour I started to notice the contractions more. According to the contraction timer app on my phone I started timing them around 10:42pm. The first one lasted 44 seconds. The second one came 6 minutes later and lasted 1 minute, 7 seconds. The next one was the same and the one after was 3 minutes later and lasted almost 2 minutes. This was around 11 pm and they were really starting to hurt. I had to stand through them and Greta rubbed my back. Around 11:40pm it was getting too difficult to try and time them anymore so I quit at that point. Around that time I could feel him coming down – I never felt that with Holland but I knew that was what it was. The nurse was coming in and out and then J came back at some point. They frequently checked the baby’s heartrate and my vitals. The nurse came in around midnight and I told her I was really uncomfortable and she asked if I wanted to get checked. I said yes! (I had never been checked during the prenatal exam because we didn’t want to increase the risk of infection once we realized my water had broken).

The midwife came in and I told her I felt like I was starting to push without trying and she said that was fine, to just do what felt right. At 12:30am she checked me and exclaimed, “Jessie, you’re not going to need the castor oil, you’re fully dilated!” I had been saying since my water broke that I really wanted to avoid the castor oil again (I had to do castor oil with Holland and it was gross. It worked and I avoided the hospital for an induction, but it was gross!). This was a HUGE relief. It also meant that I could start pushing, which I started at 12:34. We had me lie on the bed on my right side. I would hold my left leg up when I pushed and Greta was sitting up by my head and I would grab her during each contraction. The pain was unbelievable and awful and I didn’t think I could do it. The act of pushing did help a little because at least I was doing something and I got a lot of encouragement from J about the fact that he was so low and right there. She asked Greta if she wanted to catch the baby but I needed someone up by my head to grab on to. The pain was insanely intense. As we were nearing the end they had me quickly roll onto my back and push my legs back. This was the only time I felt nervous because there was a sense of urgency in J’s voice and I remember thinking “shoulders” to myself. It turns out that he had his left hand straight up against his head and they were having trouble getting him out so there was a lot of maneuvering necessary and that is why they put me in a position that is used for shoulder dystocias. Once they got his shoulders out they had me reach down and grab him and pull him out the rest of the way. This was at 12:44am on January 12th. Somehow all of that pushing happened in only 10 minutes! I had no clue about that until I was reading the report afterwards and asked Greta. She said it was REALLY quick. Of course, it felt like forever to me.

I laid him on my chest immediately and we waited for the cord to stop pulsing before Greta cut it. Delivering the placenta was fine and J noticed that it sort of had a funky shape on one section and she thinks that may have been the part that was close to my cervix (I had to have several ultrasounds for low lying placenta). At first J thought I may not need stitches but it turns out I needed 4 for a first degree tear. During delivery I had on an expensive bra and a nice maternity tank top that I had worn to work that day. I never bothered to take them off and I don’t think either are going to make it.

Jessie, Greta, & Mead

He laid on my chest for a long time and latched on well. They did his newborn exam an hour or so later. 8 pounds, 1 ounce and 21 inches. He seemed smaller to me! I took a shower. We tried to take a little nap around 3:30am but didn’t really sleep. We left the birth center at 7:45am and were home by 8:30am. I had Greta stop at Starbucks on the way home for a caffeinated beverage.

The recovery has been so much easier than Holland’s. I immediately felt like I could sit down without being in severe pain and I barely took any ibuprofen.

The similarities between my 2 birth stories amaze me. Water broke in a kind of funny spot, both boys born with a nuchal left arm, both born in the same room at the birth center, both natural deliveries. Both came quick.

All in all I would say it was a fairly “easy” delivery. Not easy in terms of pain (um AT ALL) but quick and fairly cut and dry and I feel pretty good. I didn’t lose as much blood as I did with my first delivery, despite the low placenta and low iron. Greta was a great support person. I loved the midwife and nurse. I didn’t need the castor oil! I’m just so glad that he’s here.

My Dad’s birthday is the 12th as well and he had been pushing for that date ever since he found out I was pregnant and due on the 19th. I feel really lucky – I’m so thrilled with how it turned out.

Maggie

3/25/2011

4:32pm

Margaret Jo Mullin was born on Friday, March 25, 2011 via cesarean section at Bryn Mawr Hospital.  The week leading up to my due date of March 26th I had been experiencing contractions.  True contractions that would come and go, but never did amount to anything.  The contractions would start in my back and wrap around to the front.  Wednesday, March 23^rd I was woken up in the middle of the night by a very painful contraction.  After screaming from pain, I screamed with joy, thinking ‘this is it’!  It wasn’t. 

I was a patient of The Birth Center, a free standing clinic of midwives.  I was very excited to have a natural birth.  I wanted to be present and remember the experience with a clear mind.  In addition to choosing to birth at a birth center I elected to have a doula, Ally, present at the birth.  I read every book on natural birth that I could get my hands on.  I was ready and waiting (not so patiently) to experience labor. 

The Birth Center is 30 minutes away from our home and my husband’s office.  Most of the appointments I chose to go by myself, partially because I found it a waste of Mark’s time to spend two hours of ‘vacation’ time to watch me get on a scale, and partially because my dad’s office is around the corner from The Birth Center.  Yes, I scheduled each of my appointments at lunch time, my dad’s treat!  At 39 weeks pregnant, my stomach was a torpedo.  It was too uncomfortable and frankly unsafe for me to drive.  Mark drove me to my 5 minute 39 week appointment.  Mark was planning to take me to my 40 week appointment as well.  However, my mom called and said that she was off and that she would love to take me.  I made her promise to take me to lunch afterwards; it was the routine, after all.  I ate breakfast at 8:30 am that morning and when my mom came by at 10am to pick me up I grabbed an apple for each of us for the ride. 

My mom asked if it would be okay to come back into the room during the appointment; I of course said yes, and I am glad that I did.  First the midwife took my blood pressure, 148/72.  Pre-pregnancy my blood pressure was 90/60.  At my 39 week appointment my blood pressure was 108/62.  148/72 was a huge jump.  Additionally, I had gained four pounds in my 40^th week of pregnancy.  The midwife asked to perform an internal exam on me.  Up to this point I had not had an internal exam.  The Birth Center does not do them and my doula had cautioned me not to allow it.  I wasn’t planning on any interventions, so my dilation wasn’t a priority.  My contractions would signal to me that labor had begun, not an examination.  However, with my elevated blood pressure and my significant weight gain I agreed to the internal examination.  For this, I am thankful. 

Upon examination the midwife noted that I was 3 centimeters dilated (yah!) and that she thought she felt a foot (ugh).  She said that there was a small possibility that it was a hand instead of a foot and the baby was trying to fly out like superman.  She went to the back room to get the ultrasound machine.  The ultrasound showed that my baby was footling breech (essentially standing straight up inside of me instead of head down).  And so the crying began.  I felt horrible for the midwife that had to tell me the bad news; that I had to go to the hospital for an emergent cesarean section.  My high blood pressure, weight gain, dilation, and full term breech baby had just bought me a trip to the hospital and most likely a c-section.  I was devastated to say the least.  It was everything I was against. 

I called Mark and told him the news that my mom and I were leaving the birthing center and driving across the street to the hospital.  He was shocked.  I told him to leave work, grab the bag and meet me there.  My bag for The Birth Center included a bathing suit, umbro shorts, crackers, vitamin water and the ultimate birthing playlist that I had spend months fine tuning. Obviously, the contents of my bag were not appropriate for a four night stay at the hospital, which is what you are required to stay after a c-section.  (Later I learned that women who plan to give birth at a hospital buy themselves fancy pajamas for their stay.  Birth Center patients are required to leave four to twelve hours after giving birth.  Fancy pajamas were unnecessary.) 

Mark arrived at the hospital at 1230pm.  After his arrival the doctor came in to see us and perform another ultrasound to confirm the position of the baby.  Once the position was confirmed as footling breech I put a call into my doula to break the news to her.  Ally, my doula and I discussed my options to flip my baby which included pointing a flashlight up my vagina (as babies sometimes turn towards the light), burning a Chinese herb moxi stick to my pinkie toe to stimulate my yang energy, or acupuncture.  In the end, we decided it was too late (and risky) to attempt any of the methods to encourage the baby to flip. 

The doctors told me that since I ate an apple at 10am I wouldn’t be able to have the surgery until 6pm (ugh).  So the waiting game began.  In hindsight, the time went very quickly.  At 3:30, the team decided that it would be safe for me to have the c-section at 4.  At 4pm I walked into the operating room wheeling my IV pole with me.  I hopped up on the table and the anesthesiologist inserted my spinal.  The surgeon asked for me to tell him when I could feel him pinching my belly.  I waited and waited…and nothing.  The spinal worked.  The anesthesiologist said they were placing clamps all over my stomach for the procedure.  It was a strange feeling.  I could feel them pulling and tugging during the procedure but there was no pain associated with it. 

At 4:32pm the team pulled a baby out of me.  A mid-wife from The Birth Center, Nancy, was in the OR during the birth to act as my advocate.  Nancy was a bit of a tree hugger.  Overtop of her blue hospital jumpsuit she wore a forest green fleece vest.  I’ll never forget this.  She was focused on making sure that I still felt that I was given an opportunity to ‘birth’ my baby.  So as the doctor was pulling the baby out of me, she said a half dozen time “you are now delivering your baby’.  She knew that part of our birth plan was for Mark to announce the sex of the baby.  Nancy said, ‘I see what it is’, after they pulled the baby above the curtain.  As a matter of fact, she said it a few times.  I think she was hinting for Mark to take a peek above the curtain.  The doctor, at this time asked who was announcing the sex.  Finally I yelled, What is it?  It was a girl!  Margaret Jo Mullin was born at 4:32pm on March 25, 2011.  Her birth was exactly opposite what I had hoped and prepared for, but she was more that I could have ever imagined. 

I’ve got another blogger’s story today, so I’m sending you over there for her story. Here’s a teaser:

SO.

DH and I went in for a scheduled induction on a cold clear morning not too long ago. We arrived at the hospital, McStomachache in hand shortly after 7 am. Got into a room right away, and they started the pitocin drip around 8 am. I was dilated to a soft 1, and baby’s head was right there. We had a kick ass nurse, and she thought things would move along swimmingly.

Well, I didn’t progress like they thought. I was having contractions every few minutes, but they weren’t painful. So they broke my water at around 1:30. Good lord, I am SOOO glad that was in a controlled setting. That was when the fun started.

Read the rest here:

The gory details, or what I remember

I’m directing you to another blog (www.modgblog.com) for a really great story. One of those “I knew what kind of birth I wanted but nothing went the way I planned stories.” It’s a three-parter but worth your time. It’s funny and you are rewarded with lots of pictures.

Amanda’s (aka MODG) Story:

My birth story actually starts 30 years ago, with my own birth. Like with me, as a baby. But I’ll spare you the 30 years of bullshit that happened between then and now. See, I was 4 weeks late as a baby.  Which is a whole insane power packed month for my mother, where I just chilled and grew to 10lbs. Don’t ask me how medical science let that happen. I mean,  it was 1980, not 1780. Anyway, I was terrified of this becoming my fate with a growing Plankton who was in the 75th percentile already for HEAD SIZE. So I took some matters into my own hands. Mistake #1.

Most of you know me well enough to know that I don’t just sit around and wait for stuff. I make stuff happen. Usually it’s an internet blog war, but whatever. So at 38 weeks our midwife recommended I start shooting evening primrose oil pills up the vag to soften and prepare the cervix. She said there is a teeny tiny midget of a chance that it can make my water break but don’t worry about that. I was all, sounds good to me, break my water and let’s get this show started. Little did I know about anything, at all, like ever. Mistake #2.

Then I was all, something named “primrose” won’t make me go into labor, it just won’t. Maybe if it was named boarfist or something. So let’s google “accupressure for labor”. Oh cool and easy. I push these ankle spots and Plankton gets all agitated and comes out. Super neat. I think I’ll sit on my bed for 2 hours and push around my ankle spots. He won’t come that fast. It’s just ankles. Mistake #3.

To keep reading, go here:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

My birth story with Krista….

Krista was due November 30th, 1998. It was a stressful pregnancy due to issues with her biological father, but thankfully my family was there to support me. My water broke on Thursday, November 19th in the morning. Seventeen hours of labor. I believe I slept for 13 hours due to my amazing epidural. The doctor woke me up to push her out….her head was literally hanging out. Twenty minutes of pushing and she was born on November 20th, 1998 at 5:17 a.m. No complications ad she was 7lbs 5 oz. 19 1/2 inches long. She was 10 days early but perfect!!!

My birth story with Olivia….

Olivia was due on October 15, 2006. It was my second pregnancy, so I figured I’d go early and knew what I was up against. This pregnancy was stressful because there was a 1 in 175 chance she had down syndrome. We decided against an amnio and took our chances. Her pinkies showed a small middle bone which is a down syndrome marker. Other than that, no down syndrome markers. Friday, October 13th, 2006, I thought my water broke and I went to the hospital. I was not dilated at all and my water did not break but she kicked me so hard, I peed myself. My doctor decided to induce me Monday morning due to my weight gain. I gained about 65lbs with Olivia. Around the same weight as Krista, but I weighed less before I had Krista so it wasn’t as much of an issue. I woke up Monday, October 16th, one day past my due date and went to be induced. Before I went to the hospital, I figured I’d eat something because after an epidural you pretty much have to eat ice chips or juice. Immediately after eating my dunkin donuts sandwich, I felt a sharp pain….very intense. I threw up on the way to the hospital….either the food was bad or I was going into active labor. I was only one cm dilated. My doctor lied and got me into the hospital and started pitocin to jump-start labor. The epidural was done and I was feeling good. About 8 hours later, the epidural wore off and it was time to push. Pain i never experienced with my first birth and I never ever want to experience again came over my body. Olivia was up high so I had to push an extra 10 minutes to get her down. Finally I just said screw it, and after 30 minutes of pushing she arrived. At one point I told my doctor to rip her out because that is how intense labor pain is. Olivia was 8lbs., 0oz 20 1/2 long. Olivia was a special delivery because we didn’t know if she was going to be down syndrome or not. Immediately after her delivery, she was cleared by the neonatologist as being perfectly normal….No downs. Relief came over all of us.

Atley’s birth

This is one of those stories that you always hear about but could never dream it would happen to you.  My baby came so quickly that we had him at home by ourselves.  The midwife didn’t make it in time.

The birth ended up being on New Year’s Eve, but for the entire month beforehand, I had been experiencing what I would call earnest but not painful contractions.  Only once or twice did they fall into some pattern, but it never lasted.  As with my first, I expected to deliver early because of these contractions (my ‘due date’ was December 30^th).  I don’t know why I fell into the same trap of expectation with Atley as I did with my first.  She was 9 days ‘late’ as it turned out, so why did I think it would happen early this time?  Perhaps part of my expectations were founded in an extreme desire to get this baby out—I was HUGE.  This child was weighing much heavier on me than my first did, but no one could tell if it was due to the size of the baby, or just that it was the holidays and I was treating myself to plenty of sugar and fat…anyway, people still were saying that classic phrase ‘oh you look perfect-all the weight is right in your tummy and nowhere else.’  Well there was a lot of weight in that tummy.

So the morning of New Years Eve dawns, and our toddler is still asleep.  Being anxious to have this baby before the next calendar year, my husband and I decide to try to take matters into our own hands—yes, this means we had sex in an attempt to get labor started.  It worked with our first baby, but hadn’t worked yet on this pregnancy.

So this accomplished (yes, it feels like a chore to accomplish when you are this big), I get out of bed to begin making breakfast—it was going to be a hearty one so that if/when I went into labor I would have some fuel.  As soon as I stood up I felt an odd pressure and tightness throughout my abdomen.  It was not like a contraction because it didn’t come and go in waves—it was just ‘on’ as long as I was standing, and ‘off’ whenever I sat down.  So I would try to get up and make breakfast for a minute, but then sit back down and it would go away.  All the while I’m thinking ‘I am really hungry.  I really want breakfast.  And this can’t be labor because these aren’t contractions, but what if it is? But I am really hungry so I’m going to get up….nope, I’ll sit back down…” and so on.  This was happening at about 7:15.

My husband, being very diligent, put a call into the midwife at this point, though I doubted the need.  He also called our friends who were committed to taking our toddler during the labor.  I doubted this as well because I still didn’t think it was ‘go time.’  By 7:40ish, I started feeling the typical wave-like ebb and flow of contractions, but still nothing too uncomfortable.  Meanwhile I hear the toddler on the monitor waking up for the day.  At 7:45, while attempting to get back to making breakfast, a contraction hit that sent me to my hands and knees on the floor groaning.  At this precise moment, our friend Josh came through the front door to collect our daughter, and she came around the corner to find mommy doing this funny thing on the floor.  My out-of-body-self was laughing at the comedic timing of all of this.  She crawled over to me and peered up into my face, giggling a little nervously at how silly mom was behaving.  Josh said ‘OK let’s go!  Good luck!” and was out the door in no time.  I don’t believe she even had a jacket on.

With this contraction, I was convinced it was actually ‘go time.’  I headed straight for the bed and assumed the Bradley Method prescribed position for relaxation through labor while cursing the fact that I knew I wasn’t going to get breakfast, d&*n it!  The midwife called back about this time—over half an hour after our first call, mind you!  Ben caught her up to speed, and they made a plan to meet at the Birthing Inn at 9:00.  (She lives about 40 minutes away).  While they were on the phone, I was actively resting through a contraction.  She heard my grunts and groanings in the background and told Ben that it sounded like I was pushing.  I remember being somewhat irate that she would be so hasty as to say that I was pushing already.  (In our preliminary meetings, she seemed very convinced that I was going to labor almost too quickly with this one, and so at this moment I was feeling defensive about knowing my own body.)

In fact, I wasn’t pushing…at that moment.  In the next, however, I was.  Moments after that call ended, my water broke.  Ben happened to have his hand on my stomach when it happened, and the baby kicked really hard at the same time.  It was a very surreal feeling and surreal moment.  Feeling the baby’s limbs so completely through my deflated torso was almost like an odd purgatory–somewhere between still safe inside and born.  It was this moment when I thought, Oh My God I’m having an unplanned home birth RIGHT NOW!”  It was not a panicking moment, however (for me), but it just became a reality that I think we both accepted instantly.  We had no other choice.  Thankfully, we had had a ‘what if’ discussion with the midwife about this scenario.  She encouraged us not to call 911, as EMTs aren’t well trained in labor and child-birth.  I’m not sure we would have considered this as an option anyway, but I’m glad it wasn’t part of our experience.

So, my contractions are right on top of each other now.  We’re about 35 minutes from my first inkling of labor in at this point.  Then I start feeling and saying ‘I can’t do this.’  Not because we were alone, but out of that deep, deep place in you that thinks this is too hard to handle.  With Ben’s encouragement I found a deeper place that says ‘YOU ARE GOING TO DO THIS WHETHER YOU LIKE IT OR NOT TORI!”  He was very calm and very focused this entire time, and when he told me ‘Yes you can, honey.  You’re doing amazing’ I believed him, if only for a couple of minutes until the next contraction peaked.  After the water broke I soon began to actually feel the pushing urge.  But, in reality it was more like my body was pushing and I just had to agree with it mentally.

Ben called the midwife back as soon as the water broke, and from this point on she was on speaker-phone, perched on our dresser while we worked through each massively productive contraction.  She was a wonder.  While driving, presumably as quickly and safely as possible towards us, she was also closely listening to me for cues as to my progress and attitude.  Even over the phone she could hear when I was wavering in my willingness to proceed and encouraging me to keep it up.  She could virtually hear that baby coming down the canal, and instructed us to change positions accordingly.  She asked Ben questions about what he was seeing and feeling—telling him certain things to look for and preparing him for what would happen next.  It was astounding how much she understood about what was going on on our end of the line based only on sound.  Between her firm grasp of the situation, and Ben’s remarkable calmness, I was feeling focused on the straight and narrow path ahead.  I did not have any concerns about all the traumatic things that potentially happen during childbirth.  There was no time or mental space for thinking, per se.  It was all a very primal state of being.

So now its about 8:30, and this baby is coming so fast I truly can’t believe it.  Ben says he can see the head and wants to know of I want to feel it.  I reach down in disbelief, completely out of breath and trying to re-coup for the next contraction only seconds away.  I feel something warm and squishy and pull back.  Its poop.  Yes.  I have been pooping in front of my husband, on our bed.  But I file this information away presently because I have no time for humiliation.  The midwife is actually telling Ben to gently push back on the baby’s head at this point in an effort to slow down the birth—not so that she can get there in time, but so that I might not tear too badly.  She has me lay on my side to try to get gravity to work against us.  All to no avail.  This kid is exiting like a Mac Truck in a hurry.  Now she instructs me to get on all fours, with one knee up close to my chest.  She is trying to instruct Ben on how to turn the baby’s shoulders with his fingers as I am having what turn out to be the final pushes.  My out-of-body self was highly impressed, again, with how well Ben was taking instruction for something that sounded so important, delicate, and complicated.  I was on the more blunt and primal end of the business and glad for it.

At 8:42 Atley was born, and then I really, really couldn’t believe what had just transpired.  I flopped over and Ben placed him on my tummy.  He slipped down onto the bed next to me.  I think the first thing I said was “Is he okay!? Yes I think he looks just fine!”  I am no expert, but I felt instinctively that he was doing just fine.  I grabbed whatever sheets and blankets were around and wrapped us both up in them.

Yes, I am using towels as blankets. We were not prepared for any of this, so the towels became the easiest thing to grab to get everybody warm again.

Ben now had to turn his attention to the midwife.  He was now coaching her.  She had taken the wrong exit off the freeway, and was now weaving through our city trying to find her way to our house.  This is when I did begin to feel panicked.  Adrenaline and a chill fell over me, and I began to shake uncontrollably.  I wasn’t investigating, but was worried that I might be loosing too much blood, as the midwife had proposed might happen.  I began to worry about keeping the baby warm, too, as I realized it was one of the coldest days of the year, our thermostat was set to 67 degrees and we were both soaking wet.  I was getting panicked that I was still having painful pushing contractions to get the placenta out, yet it felt stuck and nothing was moving.  I did not experience this with our first baby.  She tried to have Ben pull on the cord a little to help it come out, but that didn’t work either.  The singular focus of child-labor was gone, and with it, all peace.  I had too many concerns now, and was wishing that we could all just snuggle and get to know each other in a warm, dry bed.  Atley did a little coughing and some crying-just the right amount to let us know he was okay.  I tried to be patient and use all the time passing to pray for his little life.

Finally the midwife came.  It was nearly half-an-hour after the baby’s birth.  Also, my best friend arrived.  We had planned for her to be at the birth, when we had expected it to be more normal and take place at the Birthing Inn.  But she obviously didn’t make it in time either-a fact all parties are grateful for!  I was very glad to have her here now, though, as she willingly and graciously became the midwife’s pinch-hitter assistant.  She warmed up towels and blankets in the dryer for the baby and I, getting everyone comfortable.  From here, it was straightforward. The midwife helped me deliver the placenta, we cut the cord, and I got a shot of pitocin as I was in fact bleeding a bit more than average.  I also had to get stitched up for some tearing that occurred, not surprisingly.  This, however, was interesting, in that I had to bare all to the window of our bedroom for the stitching procedure in order for the midwife to have enough light…the neighbor 15 feet away has never been happier that he didn’t choose that moment to gaze out his window…

The baby was fine, I was fine, and even Ben seemed to have pulled through in great shape.  He is my solid rock.  Once everything had calmed down, he donned his domestic goddess cap and finished that breakfast I hadn’t quite gotten to—squash waffles with almond butter.  Then, he did laundry, and laundry, and laundry.  Nearly every blanket, sheet and towel had gotten…lets just say, soiled in this escapade.  The mattress? A casualty.  Early in the fray he had striped off his shirt, but his jeans now had every human by-product possible on them.  The scene would have looked grim if it wasn’t for the perfect, plump, pink newborn baby boy in the middle of it weighing in at 10 pounds 1 ounce.

The story ends, I suppose, with a knock at the door.  Ben, still in the battle-smeared jeans opened the door to receive our friend and real-estate agent who had dropped by to give us a Happy New Year’s bottle of champagne for buying our house in the last year.  I’ll never forget the look on her face when they ushered her into our bedroom to meet the newest newborn baby she has ever seen.  He was all of about 1 ½ hours old.  The champagne this year celebrated much more than a new calendar!

Dressed to be warm and snuggly. He didn't leave the bed he was born in for the better part of the day!