In addition to the fact that I've been busy feeding Liam ever since he arrived, I waited a while to write this because I wanted to simmer on it for a bit and make sure I collected and remembered all the details. (I write for a living, and I find that simmering on something before I ever sit down to write is what works best for me.) I think I've managed to gather everything here in my fuzzy brain, which now operates on an interrupted six hours of sleep each night, and I want to get it all down before Liam wakes up from his nap. Here is where mad typing ensues. Because of my meticulous attention to detail, I already know this will be a loooooong post, complete with reasons, details and several (OK, maybe many) related tangents. If you want to read the whole story, settle in.
I suppose I should start with WHY we decided that Liam's birth would be a homebirth. We had not originally planned on it when I got pregnant with him. I was all set to have another birth experience like Carolyn's, which was also amazing and at the time exactly everything I hoped it would be. I went back to the wonderful nurse midwife who delivered Carolyn in a hospital. I saw her for prenatal care for the first four months or so. Then, I learned that she was suddenly, and with no explanation, not with my OB/GYN's practice anymore. She had quit on the spot. To say the least, it shook my world. All of a sudden I was faced with the possibility that I would have to give birth in the hospital with an OB. I am not saying there's anything wrong with that, I just knew it was not what I wanted. I knew a midwife would support me much more fully to have the kind of birth experience (all natural, no drugs, no episiotomy, no interventions at all) that I wanted. In a tearful meltdown (remember, pregnancy hormones), I called my amazing doula, Jennifer. She was my doula for Carolyn's birth, and I had asked her to be my doula for Liam's birth.
Jennifer had been studying to be a certified homebirth midwife since before Carolyn's birth. In the two years since C's birth, she had nearly finished all her studies and was at that time an apprentice in a local midwifery practice. As we were discussing my options, she asked me if I had considered having a homebirth. My first response was, yes, absolutely I would consider it. But I was pretty certain Brian would never go for it. She very logically and calmly (Jennifer is always calm) told me the reasons that homebirth might be a perfect option for me. It was my second birth, and we knew from my first birth that I'm pretty good at the whole labor and delivery thing. I had zero complications with Carolyn, so it was more than likely that I would have no complications with my second birth. She also went through the statistics about how homebirth is just as safe, if not safer, for healthy moms who have had good prenatal care and no pregnancy complications. I was intrigued, and excited at the thought of actually having a homebirth. I brought it up with Brian...
Now, to his credit, he did hear me out as to why I wanted to have a homebirth, why it was safe, and why it was important to me. He was very open and honest and told me that the thought scared him. What if something went wrong with me or the baby? What if we couldn't get to the hospital in time? I told him that I just had a feeling, a knowing, that nothing would go wrong. That the baby and I would be just fine. He wasn't convinced, but said he'd take a few days to think about it. Turns out, at the end of a few days, he still wasn't comfortable with the idea. I said OK, and we decided that we would again do what we did with Carolyn: have an unmedicated birth in the hospital.
Several weeks went by, and it became more and more clear to me that I just wasn't OK with that decision. In another pregnancy meltdown (yes, there were many I'll admit), I again talked with Jennifer (my doula) about it. With her encouragement, I asked Brian to reconsider. I of course wanted him to feel comfortable with the decision and at the birth, but ultimately it was my body and I was the one who had to do all the work. I desired, with all of my heart, a homebirth for my second and last child. I asked him to watch "The Business of Being Born" with me, because I knew all the facts, stats and testimonials from doctors, etc. would speak to his engineering-centered brain. He watched it with me. And the next day said that if a homebirth was what I really wanted, then that's what we would do. At the time, I was 24 weeks pregnant.
I switched all my prenatal care to Jennifer, who then became my midwife. Because she was an apprentice, I always had one of the certified midwives at my prenatal checkups and I would have at least one of them at my birth. The prenatal care was terrific, and I credit it with a few things. First, it helped me to feel calm about the rest of my pregnancy. For years, I have had an anxiety about having my blood pressure taken. It scares me, because I begin to worry that it will be high. Especially during pregnancy, high blood pressure is never a good thing. Even though I know in my brain that I don't have high blood pressure, I could never stop the crippling fear that would rise up in me every time the cuff was wrapped around my arm. As a result, my numbers were always high. I struggled with this through my pregnancy with Carolyn, having to take my blood pressure at home rather than in the office so that I would have enough time to calm down and get an accurate read. Somehow, this issue completely disappeared when I began seeing Jennifer for my prenatal care. I felt calm and safe with her, and the numbers showed it.
The second reason I feel my prenatal care was so amazing is because Jennifer introduced me to several supplements that really made a difference. One was an iron supplement, which helped bring back my depleted energy. The other was a protein supplement, which I took for weeks. Both were expensive, but in the end very worth the good health they brought to Liam and I. I had no pregnancy complications whatsoever. (Though as many of you already know, it was a painfully uncomfortable time that I am extremely glad is now over.)
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Whew! With all that background, now I can get to the story of Liam's actual birth. It begins about three weeks before he arrived, when I was 36 weeks. At that time, I was huge, swollen and miserable. The swelling in my hands and fingers, though not incredibly severe, was enough to cause me to have pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome. My fingers, hands and wrists ached 24/7. Additionally, I had constant fatigue because I wasn't sleeping well at all. It was the middle of the Arizona summer, and I was beyond miserable. The day after my 36-week checkup, I finally took my midwife's advice to reduce my hours at work. I cut down to 20 hours a week.
I did 20 hours a week for two weeks. Then, at 38 weeks, Liam dropped so low in my pelvis that I felt like I constantly walked with a bowling ball between my legs. The degree of misery was upped about 20-fold. This time, at Brian's urging, I told work that I needed to work my 20 hours from home. Brian didn't want me driving, didn't want me in the office where, if I went into labor, there was a chance someone could call 911 and I'd end up having to deliver in a hospital. Completely undoing everything we had worked for up to that point. So it was in the house I stayed. I waddled around this place for a week with swollen fingers, hands and feet. Tired, aching joints and muscles. And a huge head as low as it could possibly get without actually coming out.
On July 31, one day before I hit the 39-week mark, my beautiful cousin and Carolyn's godmother, Jess, arrived for a week-long visit. She, along with the rest of us, was hoping that she'd get to meet Liam at some point during her visit. That night, I started having contractions that were a bit more intense than the Braxton Hicks contractions I'd been having since 32 weeks. And at times they were regular. Yay, we thought! It's going to happen soon!
Saturday and Sunday went by with absolutely nothing to show for the contractions. Turns out I was in prodromal labor, something I've described as a very special hell. During prodromal labor, contractions can be painful and even regularly spaced but don't actually do a thing to change the cervix. So in the end, it's not real labor. Not the labor that will bring the baby. My midwife told me that it's common for second-time moms to experience it, and that it can last for weeks. Yup, WEEKS. At which point I wanted to cry and then throw something against the wall. Up the misery by 100 and that's where I was.
This photo was taken on that Sunday, at the mall when I was desperately trying to walk Liam out. It says it all.
On Sunday evening, contractions got even more intense and regular. Mom and Dad were here for dinner, and everyone was certain that Liam would be arriving that night. He did not.
Monday morning came, and I woke up in a bad way. Meltdown #67 ensued, and I called Jennifer in tears asking if/when she thought this kid would ever come out. More importantly, I wanted to know how I would possibly make it through this. I was ready for the most intense labor pains anyone has ever experienced, and I was ready to be in labor for hours. I just wanted labor to START because I could not deal with the prodromal labor crap anymore. She assured me that I would make it through and encouraged me to get out of the house and focus on something else. To do something to pamper myself. It was great advice, so Jess and Carolyn and I packed up and headed to the mall for pedicures. Yes, we all got our toes done. It was C's first pedicure and she did so unbelievably well. She got pink, of course. (I got blue, in honor of the son I was hoping to have soon but was beginning to think would never show up.)
I sat in the chair and had contractions the whole time. I could still carry on a conversation, just had to breathe through them a bit. After the peds we walked around the mall. Carolyn and Jess rode the train. It was Carolyn's first ride on that train and she loved it.
On Monday afternoon, contractions ramped up another notch. This time it was enough that I actually called Brian at work and told him it might be a good idea if he came home. I think he was leaving his office before he even hung up the phone. He, too, was anxious for Liam to finally arrive and for me to be rescued from my special hell. He came home, cooked dinner and downloaded an app on his iPhone that would time my contractions.
They were as close as three minutes apart and, again, we all thought that was it. That real labor had begun. I even called Jennifer and told her I thought things might be finally happening. She came over that evening and checked my cervix. It was exactly the same as the last time she checked it a few days before. Disappointing, to say the very least. I cried. She told me to try to get some sleep.
I did try, but I couldn't sleep. Contractions were too painful and to the point where I had to moan through them. I was up moaning most of the night, and at 3 a.m. we called Jennifer again. She came over around 4 a.m. on Tuesday (Aug. 3) to check me. This time we were really hoping for progress. And nothing. Absolutely nothing. I cried; no, I bawled. Hysterically. Would it ever happen? Would I continue this way for days? I couldn't even bear the thought. Jennifer reassured me, and most importantly, told me that I was doing a phenomenal job. She again told me to try to get some rest and that she'd see me in the office for my regular 39-week checkup later on that morning. There was no rest for me after that, just more painful contractions. Carolyn came into our room at 6 a.m. (as she always does) and said that her ear hurt. We know better than to let a complaint of ear pain go unchecked, especially with C who went through a seven-month bout of constant ear infections last fall/winter/spring. I called the pediatrician to make an appointment for her that Mom and Jess would take her to while Brian and I went to my checkup.
At the 8:30 a.m. checkup, they checked my cervix again. Still no change. (!) Much more crying. One of the certified midwives asked me if I wanted her to strip my membranes, which can sometimes get labor going. YES! Yes, I wanted that more than anything. She went up there like a freight train. Wow. I had no idea stripping the membranes could hurt like that. I squeezed the dickens out of Brian's and Jennifer's hands the whole time. But she got some bloody show from it and said that she thought that might trigger things later on that day. I was told to go home and rest. (HA!)
At home, we met up with Mom, Jess and Carolyn, who checked out just fine at the doc, no ear infections.
The doctor said she might be coming down with a cold, so he advised us to not let her touch the baby's face or hands so that she wouldn't pass it on to him. I listened to that advice and somewhat shrugged it off. After all, this baby was never coming. I was convinced. Still, we thought it best for Mom and Jess to take C back to Mom's house for the day. That way Brian and I could relax (HA!) here at the house just in case things started to happen later on.
At this point, contractions were very painful and regular. I had to moan loudly through each one, and it was a very painful, pathetic moan. Brian described it as the worst sound he has ever heard -- a sound that signified intense pain, which he could do absolutely nothing about. I walked up and down our hall for hours moaning like this. Around 2 p.m., I called Jennifer again, begging her to come over and check me again. I had decided that if there was still no progress, I was going to drink a glass of red wine and try to relax. But if there WAS progress, I didn't want to drink the wine because I didn't want to slow things. She calmly reminded me that I had been checked three times in a 24-hour period, and that each time there had been no change. She suggested that what I needed to do was to let go of my attempts to control this situation, and just let it be however it was going to be. She said that there was nothing I could DO to begin labor, and when labor actually started, there would be nothing I could DO (even have a glass of wine) that would stop it. Her advice was to have the wine and try to relax. At which point I had another meltdown. Then realized that she was absolutely right. I hung up and asked Brian to pour me a glass of wine.
We tried to watch a movie (Revenge of the Nerds at my request). It turned out the wine was doing nothing to slow my contractions, and it got to the point where I couldn't even follow along with the movie, which I've seen about a million times. I was moaning too loud and was in too much pain. I told Brian I had to do something for the pain, so I asked him to fill up Carolyn's bathtub for me. I got in and moaned much more.
I sat in that tub for about an hour, and looking back, I now realize that my contractions steadily got more and more intense. Even though Brian said it was SOUNDING like they were getting more intense, I was so hesitant to say whether or not I felt like something was happening because up to that point, for days, nothing had been happening. Every time I thought my contractions were the beginning of labor, they weren't. So I wasn't going to make any declarations until I was undeniably certain.
I underestimated my body and my own intuition. Because it quickly got to the point where I knew I had to get out of that tub. And as I got out, I started to get the chills. Exactly as I had when I was in transition (when you dilate to six or seven centimeters) with Carolyn. Then I lost my mucus plug. And holy hell, contractions ramped up about 10 notches. I remember Brian called Jennifer at that point and told her that he really, really thought she should come over. Now. It was about 4:15/4:30 p.m. She was immediately on her way.
Brian helped me get dressed and I eased my way out to the living room where all I could do was get on my knees and lean on the birth ball. And moan very loudly through incredibly intense contractions. That's how Jennifer found me when she arrived a little before 5 p.m. She did counter pressure on my lower back for a few minutes, then started setting up all her equipment. She later told me that she wrote her first note in my chart at 5:15 p.m. (I'm guessing just to document that she had arrived at the house and began getting all the equipment ready. What that equipment was, I don't really know. I was aware of very little at that point except for each contraction.)
As I stayed on my knees leaning on the birth ball, I quickly began to feel a small urge to push. An urge that grew exponentially with each contraction. At that point, I was still dressed. Underwear on. And I began to panic. Brian was running around getting the birth tub set up and filled with water. Jennifer was still busy setting up everything. And I was increasingly certain that I needed to push this baby out. At one point I screamed "Help! Help!" during a contraction. Jennifer asked if she could remove my underwear and check my cervix at that point. Yes! Please! That was at 5:32 p.m. and I was seven centimeters. Seconds later, the tub was ready and Brian and Jennifer were helping me into it.
As soon as I got down into the water (which felt HEAVENLY, by the way), I pushed once. I pushed again and his head was born. I pushed one more time and Liam was born at 5:37 p.m. Let me just point out that I went from seven centimeters to Liam screaming in my arms in FIVE minutes. Impressive, no? He came out healthy and screaming.
He immediately latched on to nurse. And we stayed that way in the tub for a long time. I birthed the placenta about 30 minutes later. (I ended up needing a shot of pitocin in my thigh because my uterus wasn't contracting as quickly as it should have.)
After that, the midwives (there were three people here in total: Jennifer, a certified midwife and another apprentice midwife, although the certified midwife and the other apprentice didn't make it here in time for the actual birth) helped me out of the tub and into the shower. Brian took Liam and had some great daddy/son bonding time, during which Liam pooped all over him.
After my shower, I got into our bed, which the midwives had prepared with fresh sheets. Jennifer checked me for tears. Not a single tear at all. I think that's impressive, too, considering Liam's size at birth and the sheer speed with which he came out. Once I was all checked out and dressed, Liam got his examination right there on our bed. Jennifer checked him out from head to toe and took all his vitals. He was a perfectly healthy and thriving little guy. Then, the moment we had all been waiting for. Liam was weighed. I was dying to know how big this kid was that I had just given birth to at home. I was guessing somewhere in the mid-sevens. Brian was the one to weigh him.
And it turned out he weighed 8 lbs. 1.6 oz! Wow! He was an entire pound heavier than Carolyn when she was born. I was amazed, and entirely proud of myself. And vindicated for all the complaining I did in those last weeks about how HEAVY I felt. I felt heavy because I was carrying a heavy baby! (At least in comparison to Carolyn.)
It was shortly after Liam's checkup that the family arrived to the house. My parents, Jess, Brian's parents and his sister and nephew. Everyone came HOME to welcome Liam. It was wonderful being able to relax in my own bed, in my room, in my house and just enjoy our family and our new little boy.
The homebirth was everything I hoped it would be. And then I'd say it was even better than that. It was...incredible. An experience that I will cherish for the rest of my life. I am so thrilled I was able to give Liam that kind of start to life. To welcome him in an environment that was comfortable, soothing and safe. With people who were skilled, caring and loving. I was so blessed to share it with my husband, to allow him that kind of experience in his life.
I know people have mixed feelings about homebirth, and above all, I think every woman needs to birth where she feels most comfortable, wherever that may be. But for me, home was the perfect place to birth Liam. Oh, and the water birth was fantastic. I credit the warm, soothing water as the reason I didn't tear during Liam's lightning-fast delivery. I wouldn't change a thing about this experience, and all I can feel is blessed and so lucky that I was able to have it.
(This is a terrible picture of me, but one of the only post-birth family shots that we have. So for that reason, I'll suck it up and post it.)
Jen, thank you for sharing your story of Liam's birth. What an incredible experience for you to have. Congratulations, mama!
ReplyDeleteYou are a rock star!!!!!! What a great story. And- you look awesome in that picture. Pushing out a baby is freaking hard and ridiculous work- and you look like a real woman who just served her purpose.
ReplyDeleteLove it!!!