First baby, so much better than I expected!

Before we get to the details of our story, these were my expectations going in -- I would be overdue...at least 8 days. I would experience false labor AT LEAST once. I would have a long labor...at least 20 hours. I would go into labor at night and be incredibly tired. I would know when I was having contractions. Things might not go the way I wanted. I might not be able to do this (anyone else go from thinking “newborns are so tiny!” to “Their heads are so HUGE!” as they neared the due date?). When we met with our doula, Bobbie, at 38 weeks, she told us that she wanted us to be able to look back on our experience and have it be everything we had hoped. When she said that I instantly thought, “well, I don’t want to expect THAT much.” I know things don’t always go as planned with labor, and I wanted to be realistic. But I can honestly say we had an incredible experience. This is our story…

On Tuesday, February 4, I had my 39 week appointment but opted not to get checked because I didn’t want to be disappointed or have false hope. My doctor was fine with waiting until 40 weeks to check me again. At 10:15 that night, I emailed our doula, Bobbie, an update about our appointment and to tell her I’d had an unusual discharge earlier that day that was “all clear and kind of snotty consistency” but with some light pink at the end (I’m pretty sure it WAS my mucus plug). I also told her my back had been achy pretty consistently that evening, but in a more constant way (not getting worse or going away). As I tried to sleep, I remember looking at the clock around 11pm and thinking that I really didn't feel good.

We had asked my friend, Rachel, to attend our birth to help keep our families and friends updated, take pictures, and provide extra support for me and my husband as needed. At 6:20am on February 5, I texted Rachel to let her know I was having bad back cramps since the night before, but that it was probably nothing. Rachel is a nurse, so I asked for her work schedule because I wanted to know how much of a heads up she might need when we thought we were in labor...in a couple days. She responded that she was working 7am-3pm that day and that she’d keep her phone with her.

At 7:30am, I texted Bobbie to let her know I was still having “bad period cramps” but that I couldn’t distinguish a start/peak/stop or a pattern. The more intense cramping only lasted about 30 seconds, and I was still achy/crampy in between. At that point, I was really not feeling well and decided to take a nap and then call the chiropractor to see if I could go that morning. Laying down and being in the dark made me feel worse, but I was so tired it was worth it. My husband was going to get out of class at 10:40am, so I was hoping he could drive me. Unfortunately, when I woke up from my nap and called the chiropractor at 9:40am, their last appointment was at 10:30am. So I decided to try to make it myself for a 10am appointment….I just put on sweats, brushed my teeth, and left. When our chiropractor, Dr. John, asked me how I was doing (I wasn’t looking too good at that point!), I couldn’t help crying. I was just tired, didn’t feel well, and was dreading the thought of feeling like that for the next two weeks. In reality, I was just emotional, because I was definitely in early labor!

When I got home, I really didn’t feel like being by myself, so I called Kyle and asked him to come home right after his class before he had to work in the office from 12-3pm (the office is in the dorm right across the hall from our apartment). I just wanted the presence of another person. He came home and got some food for me to try to eat, and I drank a glass of red raspberry leaf “iced” tea which I’d been drinking faithfully several times a day for weeks. By 11:15am I texted Rachel and Bobbie that there was nothing new.

My husband left for work at noon, and I texted my friend, Kristie, to see if she was able to hang out. It didn’t work out, but she encouraged me to time my contractions. At 12:48pm, I texted Kristie back: “So the first two I timed sitting were about 1 min long and 9 min apart. But then I got up and it’s 20-40 seconds 2-6 min apart. So confusing cuz it seems so much more situational. Like always right after I go to the bathroom. And I can feel it really tight in my back but I don’t feel like my stomach is really hard. It’s not quite making sense to me.

By 2pm, I decided I needed to rest, so I found a movie on Netflix and laid down in bed to watch. At that point, things were getting more intense, and I had to pause the movie three times and only made it through the first 5 minutes of the movie before shutting it off. When a contraction hit, I paused the movie, clenched my pillow, and rocked back and forth on the bed groaning. That was not how I was supposed to (or wanting to) handle contractions, but I couldn’t do it by myself. I called Kyle and asked if he could come home. At 2:44pm I texted Rachel that I thought I was having consistent contractions and that we might want her to come when she got off work at 3..

I kept going back and forth about whether I thought my cramping was contractions. I had talked to Bobbie at 2:50pm, and I think she could tell that I was in active labor because shortly after our conversation she asked for a contraction update. At 3:15pm, I responded: “We haven’t been able to track 100% but mostly 45-50 seconds and 2-5 minutes apart. It seems to be getting closer. They’re not each the same intensity but they all hurt. I’ve been handling it better since Kyle got here. And I’m still in denial (at least in between).”

At 3:14pm, Rachel called about what we needed her to get for us before she came. I couldn’t make it through a conversation with her at that point, and I kept apologizing for always needing to pause while giving her a list of snacks I wanted from the grocery store. I was also getting texts from people, but I couldn’t respond back. (These should have been clues to me that THIS WAS IT...but again, my expectations told me it was all just going to end, and we’d have weeks left).

That afternoon, Bobbie was actually at her own OB appointment to find out the gender of their little one. Since I was in denial that I was in labor, and I didn’t want her to miss her appointment, we told her we were fine. Between 3 and 4pm things picked up and at 3:51pm I texted Bobbie that contractions were about 30 seconds long and 2 minutes apart, but I didn’t think they were intense enough to be super close to having the baby. Shortly after that when her appointment ended, my husband asked her to come. By the time we called, I just kept hoping she would get here soon.

Labor started getting really intense very quickly. Kyle could only leave me for a moment before I would call out “I need help,” and he’d run back and press on my back. My whole labor was back labor, and I spent all of labor in our bedroom (since we live in a dorm, we had planned to go to a nearby hotel to labor, but that never happened). The most comfortable position for me was to lean over a tall stack of pillows at the edge of our bed with Kyle pressing on my back. Unfortunately, my legs got tired, so I had to mix it up by sitting on a chair or exercise ball occasionally. I had to go the the bathroom frequently during labor, and I always dreaded it because I knew a strong contraction would hit right after. And EVERY time my husband would have to meet me at the sink for support before I made it back to the bed.

Rachel arrived about 4:45pm and Bobbie arrived around 5:15pm. I was so happy when they got there. We had not finished packing for the hospital yet (I had thrown a few things together “just in case” earlier that day), so they were trying to get our things together in between contractions. Thankfully I had written a detailed list =) Bobbie asked if she could check my purple line. I just remember her saying something like, “Ok, good.” I thought her reaction meant I wasn’t very far into labor, but she had motioned to my husband and Rachel that she thought I was 5cm. At some point I asked Bobbie if this was going to just go away (still thinking it could be false labor), and she responded with “you are DEFINITELY in labor.”

We started talking about going to the hospital, but I just wasn’t sure what the right decision was (you know...since I was STILL in denial about how far into labor I was). We made the decision and everyone starting hurrying to get everything ready to go. That was especially hard for my husband because I kept calling him back to press on my back. Bobbie timed contractions between 6:02pm and 6:49pm -- and I had SIXTEEN contractions between that time that were a minute to almost two minutes long and just about two and a half minutes apart. My breaks were only a minute! At some point in there I threw up. After the fact, Bobbie told me that by the time we left, she was very glad we had decided to go to the hospital because she knew we were getting so close to having the baby.

I don’t remember having contractions in the car, but I do remember repeatedly telling my husband, “It’s ok. We’re fine. Just be safe.” during the drive. Although most of labor went smoothly and like we had hoped, getting to the hospital did not. The trip included going up an on ramp (the wrong way), not finding a parking spot, going to the wrong floor, and having many contractions on the way to our room. Once we FINALLY made it where we were supposed to be, our awesome nurse decided we could go straight to a room instead of heading to triage to see if I was really in labor -- that much was clear.

Once we made it to our room (about 7pm), they checked me and said I was 6-7 cm. I wanted to labor in the tub, but that room was taken and they couldn’t get the blow up tub (apparently a necessary part was missing). They strapped on the monitor to check baby’s heart rate and said I’d have to be on for 30 minutes, but it ended up being much longer than that. Although I didn’t know it, they apparently kept losing his heart beat, and they needed a consistent strip before letting me go. Thankfully, they let me kneel and lean against the propped up head of the bed which was much better than lying down. At some point right after I got into that position my water broke. And shortly after that I threw up again. They had ice chips for me which I really enjoyed being able to chew between contractions. Getting the hep lock set was difficult because my contractions were so frequent and intense, but they eventually got it on the second attempt.

Dr. Radbill was on call that night and came by and prayed for us. As I was experiencing intense contractions, I overheard him cheerfully say “I’ll be back in a few hours” and I thought “You’ve got to be kidding me….it couldn’t be that much longer still.”

When they finally let me get off the monitor, I went to use the restroom. Since I knew I’d be having contractions, I sat on the toilet backwards so my husband and Bobbie would have access to my back to apply pressure. Labor got even more intense at that point. Bobbie kept trying to have me moan/groan low, but it was so hard. Throughout labor, I kept thinking “I know I should relax through this, but I just can’t.” When I was able to get control and deeply moan, it helped. I always thought I’d be very internal and quiet during labor -- that was definitely NOT the case. Keeping my eyes closed pretty much the entirety of labor was the only thing “quiet and internal” about my laboring. I needed to be very verbal to make it through each contraction, so that’s what happened. I don’t think I ever quite made it to a scream, but there was some loud grunting and groaning happening (for those who know me, that is not characteristic of my personality...but once labor takes over, personality doesn’t have much say).

While I was on the toilet, I had my “I can’t do this” moment. Although I didn’t express that verbally or even fully register it mentally, Bobbie later told me I started shaking my head (a sign that I was nearing giving up). She knew I needed to change it up. We decided to get an exercise ball and get in the shower. Once I got in the shower, I sat on the world’s smallest exercise ball. No seriously...it was so small and half deflated. So that wasn’t going to work -- it was extremely uncomfortable for me to sit on. I wedged the ball in the corner of the shower so I could lean against it, and Bobbie ran hot water over my back. That water felt SO good and finally got to all areas of my back that were hurting. Labor quickly intensified in the shower, and my body started bearing down with contractions. Bobbie knew I was complete, but waited until I felt pressure to have me go back to the bed. Everything was so intense at that moment, and with the last contraction I had in the shower, my body started curling in on itself with my heels raised off the floor -- my body was pushing!

I don’t even remember walking from the bathroom back to the bed (around 8:30/8:45pm), but I somehow ended up back on the bed leaning against the back of it. They checked me and said I was complete and ready to push. At that point I was just relieved we were getting to the end, and I think my mind started to clear a little bit. Excitement started to take over the room. Dr, Radbill came by, confirmed I was complete, said first time moms usually push 1-3 hours, and left (I don’t remember that part). Shortly after, I overheard the nurse calling the doctor again to tell him we were complete, pushing, and crowning and pretty much that he should run. He hadn’t even made it back to his office. The pushing stage of labor was such a relief. It’s almost like I didn’t feel the pain anymore. My husband and Bobbie just rubbed my back gently, and my body took over. Though I didn’t fully register the words, I have vague memories of Bobbie repeatedly telling me, “Good job. You’re doing this. Keep going. You’re doing this.” Her encouraging words were so helpful during our whole labor.

I honestly never even really tried to push. My body just instinctively (and intensely) did it on its own with each contraction. Once the doctor got there and set up, they told me they could see the head. My husband responded with “He’s so cute!” And I laughed because that was just ridiculous (turns out he hadn’t even seen anything). They told me I could reach down and feel his head which was awesome and gave me the extra boost I needed. Although contractions didn’t feel as intense, I was feeling pressure and stretching that was painful, but not as distinct as the “ring of fire” I’ve heard about. Dr. Radbill did an excellent job of coaching me through pushing and slowed me down at the end to minimize tearing. His head was born and then the rest of him slid out with the next contraction. Our little boy was born at 9:14pm on February 5 (5 days early!).

They handed him to me for immediate skin to skin. Our little guy was here! He weighed 8lb11oz, was 22 inches long and his head was 14.5 inches. And the first thing he did was poop all over me and himself. I needed stitches in three spots, but I didn’t tear too badly. We attempted breastfeeding, and he had a hard time latching at first. That was a surprise to me because I’ve heard stories of babies easily and quickly figuring it out especially if they were immediately given to the mother for skin to skin. Thankfully we have not had many problems since.

The scariest part of our whole experience was later that evening when I almost passed out in the bathroom. I was barely responsive for a while leaning against the rail by the toilet as they kept asking me “are you with me?” I had bled a lot right before that, and the bathroom (including the heated toilet seat) was hot. The nurse called in another nurse, and they got a wheelchair to take me back to bed. I felt better once I got back to the cooler air of the room and had a drink. They started setting up pitocin, but my husband stood up for me and double checked whether it was necessary. They decided they could let me wait a while and check my bleeding one more time before giving it to me. Thankfully, I didn’t end up needing it, and I’m so thankful!

Our Bradley class was very helpful in helping us feel prepared for labor, and I think it especially helped my husband feel prepared to support me during labor. He was THE BEST support I could have asked for. Bobbie was an incredible doula, and I’m so thankful for her support, guidance, and encouragement throughout our labor. And Rachel kept our families and friends updated, took pictures, talked to nurses, moved our car, got us dinner, and was in general just wonderful. I couldn’t have done it without any of them.
We are so thankful for our birth experience and understand we were very blessed with a relatively quick, complication-free first labor. Even the timing of our son's birth was perfect so that my husband did not miss much school and both sets of our parents were able to visit from up north shortly after our son's birth. We are so incredibly blessed to be his parents! He is such a sweet baby.

My second baby, another fast birth!

Elias Hawk was born on September 9, 2013 at 10:20pm. He was 8 pounds, 5 oz. and 20 inches long. Here is the story of his birth day:

I was surprised how much my mood changed after I crossed the line past 41 weeks pregnant. Friday, I still felt bright and confident that things would continue to go well until Hawk decided to join us earthside, but as Saturday (officially one week post-dates) rolled by and there were still no signs of impending labor, I began to lose confidence quickly. Waking up Sunday morning at 41 weeks plus one day gestation, I began to question my ability to go into labor on my own. I was so discouraged.

To his credit, my sweet doctor never uttered the word "induction" to me. So many are quick to schedule medical procedures once a mama approaches post-dates pregnancy, but my doc remained encouraging and supportive of my low-intervention birth plan. Still, my next appointment was scheduled on Tuesday afternoon, and I knew we wouldn't be able to avoid the topic this time.

Sunday evening, the boys and I curled up on the couch to watch a movie together. Every few minutes, I'd slide my bottom off the edge of the couch and allow myself to dangle in a squat, supported by my arms. I wiggled my hips, trying to help Hawk engage his head into my pelvis. I could tell he was still not in the right position to be born. I felt his head grinding on my pelvic bone once again, and suddenly I knew. He was trying to come down, but couldn't get his head past my pelvis. Remembering the day big brother Seth was born, I recalled vividly how my oldest son had been lodged behind my pelvic bone and I spent nearly four excruciating hours trying to push him around it. I remembered how bruised the top of Seth's head was when he finally emerged, and how I felt as if I'd been hit by a train for weeks after. I never told anyone how traumatizing his birth had been until early into my second pregnancy, because I had so much pride wrapped up in having "accomplished" the goal of having a natural birth the first time.

I decided then that, if I woke up pregnant one more day, I'd immediately call a chiropractor. I'd never been to a chiropractor before, and I have a fear of new experiences. I resolved that I was more afraid of having another traumatic birth, and swallowed my pride. Monday morning, I called the chiro that Aimee, my doula,  had recommended and scheduled an appointment for that afternoon. I knew it was possible the adjustment would put me in labor, and I was nervous. Eric stayed home from work Monday, and he took me to the chiropractor appointment. Afterward, we took Seth out for popsicles and an afternoon at the park. By the time dinner rolled around, I felt virtually the same, although as if a ton of weight had been removed from my lower back and hips. I still wasn't having contractions. Eric said he planned to go back to work Tuesday morning, and I felt deflated.

During the seven o'clock hour, I texted back and forth for a while with Aimee.  I confessed how scared I was of the prospect of going into labor alone the next day while Eric was at work, and she encouraged me to trust God's perfect timing. At eight o'clock, I sent an encouraging text to a friend from church who was scheduled for a 7 AM cesarean the next morning, feeling happy for her but anxious for myself. I headed to bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I felt tears well up in my eyes. But then, I felt God say to my heart: "I will never leave you or forsake you." 
"Thank You, Lord," I responded.

I dozed off, but after a while, a strong pain in my pelvis woke me up. It eased, and I rolled back into my pillow to go back to sleep. A few minutes later, I felt another pain. "Eric?" I called tentatively into the next room, afraid to say anything about the pain and then have it go away.

Eric came to the bedroom and I told him I'd had pains. "What time is it?" I asked him.

"9:05," he said. "Should we call someone?"

"I don't know." I hesitated. What if I called someone to come get Seth and the pain disappeared? That would be so embarrassing and frustrating. "No, not yet. Wait. Yes. Yes, let's go ahead and call someone."

Right after calling Eric's mom to come pick up Seth, I got another pain. It had been five minutes since the last. I knew I'd made the right decision immediately, and began to gather my things. Eric started to get Seth ready to go, and Seth was crying that he was scared to go without us. I felt so bad, but I couldn't dwell on it and I headed for the car with my purse and a water bottle. Eric brought a blanket from the bed out and laid it across our backseat, and he took Seth's car seat out to move into his mom's car. Seth came outside, and I heard him say, "I'm not really scared anymore. Just a little scared, but I'm ok." I was so proud of him. Right then, Eric's mom pulled into the driveway: it had been about fifteen minutes and I'd had at least two more contractions.

Through this, I'm texting back and forth with my sister and my doula. I fired off texts to everyone who'd asked to be notified when I was in labor so they could pray for me. I am amazed now that I had the presence of mind to follow through, because I had lost reasoning ability altogether almost as soon as labor began the day Seth was born. His birth had been relentless, and I felt so out of control. This time, I was totally lucid.

I crawled into the backseat on my hands and knees, and Eric started the car. The song "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman was on the radio, and I began to sing along with it right as another contraction began. As we pulled out onto the main highway, the song ended and a voice on the radio read a passage from Psalms:

From the ends of the earth I call to You,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge... (Psalm 61:2-3)

I leaned into the armrest on the car door and made that my prayer. With every contraction, I prayed and asked God to take me outside the pain: I imagined myself flying over it like an eagle. In between contractions, I continued to communicate with people by text: a friend from church, my sister, my doula (who was waiting for her husband to return home to be with their kids before she could leave to meet us). I kept an eye on the clock at the top of my phone display, and I noticed the pains we coming closer: now four minutes apart. I looked up for a landmark reference and eyed the back of a retail store moving quickly past on the side of the interstate. I asked Eric where we were, and he told me: we were about halfway there.

Closer: three minutes apart. I looked up for another reference, and texted my doula again: 3 min apart ... passing Hwy 119.

I'm not far behind you, she responded.

Right as we pulled around the curve of our exit ramp, I braced myself against the toughest contraction yet. Immediately, I thought: I'm in the transition stage. Transition is the point where most women lose any composure they have remaining. It can feel like you're losing your mind. I was amazed that I was able to process the thought and identify my body's progress. Almost there.

I had about three contractions like that before I felt the car ascending the ramp into the parking deck at the hospital, and then another contraction with the definite urge to push came. "I can't walk," I told Eric.

He hurriedly chose a handicapped space and left to go alert someone of our arrival. I climbed out of the car: as soon as I stood up, my body began bearing down and I peed all over myself. I felt Hawk's head move into the birth canal: a sensation I'd never been able to identify during Seth's birth, which had felt more like my whole lower half was being ripped apart with no distinguishable progress.

I had two pushing contractions standing there beside the car, and became convinced I was going to have a parking lot baby. Then, Eric returned with a nurse and a wheelchair. I panicked. I couldn't imagine sitting in a wheelchair in this state. At that moment, Aimee arrived. For the life of me, I don't know what she said to me but I calmed down enough to get in the chair and off we went.

A beautiful woman in scrubs was walking through the parking deck at the same time and joined us in the elevator. I only caught bits of what was said between her and the nurse, but I registered the phrase arrived just in time and thought they were just talking about me. I didn't realize then that the woman was the on-call OB, who'd arrived the same time we did!

When we arrived on the L&D floor, the nurse said, "We're going to room 12." I looked over my shoulder at the room numbers passing by: 15... 14... 13... Finally.

We got in the room, and the nurse asked me to undress and put on a gown. Somehow, I was able to comply in enough time to climb on the bed on hands and knees for the next contraction. The nurses were swarming, someone asked me to lay down. I shook my head no, and my doula asked them if I could stay like that since I was more comfortable that way. Then I looked up and saw the beautiful woman from the elevator in the room, and someone said, "Sarah, this is Dr. H------," and she said, "We already met in the elevator."

Eric's behind me, saying, "You're doing so good. He's almost here! We're almost done."

My doula was in front of me, whispering "You're safe. So close."

Someone says, "Sarah, lets turn over, and with the next contraction you can get him out."

I mustered the will to move and turned over, and that's when I felt the so-called "ring of fire": another sensation I'd skipped altogether the first time around. It was scary, but I knew then they were right and I was about to meet my baby!

With the next contraction, I pushed twice, and the ring of fire worsened but his head still wasn't out. I took a deep breath and committed to push one more time even though I didn't think I could: and there was his head. One more contraction, and his whole body emerged into the nice doctor's hands, and she placed him right on my chest. I was ecstatic!

He was perfect, clean, calm and blazing hot! I held his warmth next to me and couldn't stop smiling (even though I was still in pain!).

After a few minutes, the doctor looked at the cord and decided it was done pulsing and put a clamp on it. She turned to Eric and asked him if he wanted to cut the cord: of course he did! Someone asked me then if it was ok for them to take him or if I wanted to hold him a while longer. I agreed to let them take him to measure his vitals while I delivered the placenta.

I needed a few stitches: the doctor told me Hawk had his hand up next to his face when he emerged. She was very gentle and I barely felt a thing while she stitched me up.

My doula stuck around for quite a while, until I was relatively comfortable and Hawk was returned to me. She went to our car and retrieved my camera bag for us: I fixed the settings on the camera and handed it to her so she could snap some pictures of us with our youngest son. I was so grateful for her presence.

Start to finish, my labor only lasted one hour and twenty minutes. I am in awe: totally unable to believe I was able to accomplish such a monumental feat in such a short time.

The moment I met our youngest son, I knew our family was complete.

 

Accomplishment, joy, and leaving a legacy of natural birth

Before I had a natural birth, I was a natural birth. Back in the 80’s, when epidurals were the cool new thing and very few moms were going the natural route, my mom did. She told me her birth stories,and my dad told me how proud he was of her. I grew up knowing that when I had babies of my own, I wanted to birth them naturally.

However, that’s not how it happened with my first baby. As soon as I made it to 40 weeks, my doctor pressured me to schedule an induction. I reluctantly agreed, feeling that I didn’t really have an option. So, early on the third day past my due date, my doctor broke my water and started Pitocin. It got very intense very quickly, and I took an epidural as soon as I could just to save my strength. My sweet boy was born safely that afternoon, and I was thrilled.

For several months, I was content with my first birth. But occasionally I would meet someone who’d had a natural birth, and I still felt tingles in my spine as they talked about it. I had a deep need to fully experience the birth of a child, in all its challenge and for all its glory. I knew I would never be content if I didn’t. Three years later, when we were pregnant with our second baby, I was determined that it would be different this time. I found a new doctor, I hired Kelly as my doula, and I took a childbirth class taught by Fredia.

Apparently I bake my babies a long time. My due date came and went again, with only erratic contractions. Finally, on the fifth day past 40 weeks, I woke up at 1 AM with crampy contractions! I got up and ate a little bit while I timed my contractions. They kept coming, and I coped easily using deep breathing and relaxation techniques. I got my husband up when I was sure this was the real thing. I moved from a sitting position to lying on my side, and eventually I settled into an all-fours position. That’s where I was when Kelly got to my house. I was so excited to see her; it was really time!

Then the contractions really started getting intense. Standing or sitting upright during a contraction was almost unbearable because of the downward pressure. When deep breathing was no longer enough to help me relax, I started vocalizing a deep moan. This helped me continue to cope through those stronger contractions. After several of those, Kelly started encouraging us to get ready to move to the hospital. I was well past the stage when the doctor tells you to call, but we knew I wanted to labor at home as long as possible in order to streamline my admission to the hospital. We left the house around 6 AM. We drove fast down I-59, with our flashers on, me on my knees in the reclined front seat, facing the back. Once we got there, I had a deep urge to get settled in my room, to be on my knees in a bed again and stay there until this baby came out. I hustled inside, stopping to lean on something during contractions. I remember people kept asking if I wanted a wheelchair (as if I could have sat down!). When I got in my room, I got back on all fours in the bed. The contractions were really intense by then, and some of them were doubling up on the previous one. I remember thinking I couldn’t do this much longer. Those 5 minutes were evidently my transition phase. About that time, I was rather curtly telling the nurse that she couldn’t check my cervix until I was ready to push. She was a good sport and left me to it while she gathered her equipment. Not long after she left the room, my body kicked into a whole different gear. I was in the middle of a contraction, and all of a sudden, completely involuntarily, my back curled up like a cat and I was bearing down. I managed to tell Kelly, “Urge to push! Urge to push!” We had no idea what my cervix was like since I had so tactfully dismissed the nurse’s requests to check it. So to be on the safe side, I really needed to resist that urge to push until she came back. When you’re in childbirth class and they tell you to “blow out the candle” when you’re trying not push, I just don’t think it’s possible to convey what a monumental a task that is. It’s like trying not to sneeze with a feather in your face, only 10 times stronger. But for the most part, we managed. We finally got the nurse back to the room, and I still don’t think she really checked me because my baby’s head was already in the birth canal. That’s usually a good sign that your cervix is open. Wow, the relief! I got to push through the second half of that contraction, and then I got a break. Everyone around me was scrambling, I think; I had only been in the room about 30 minutes, and they were trying frantically to get my doctor in the room. But I was in another place. I was vaguely aware of all that going on around me, but my task was inside my own body. I knew it was doing its job, everything was going to be fine, and wow, it was already almost over. I was tired and ready to have a break, but I was not afraid.

My doctor made it just in time. The baby was crowning. My body pushed her head out with very little active effort from me. One more contraction and we had her shoulders out – she was born! Praise God! I had done it! I cannot describe what an amazing, exhilarating feeling I had right then. Up until that very moment, I still felt just a bit of nagging uncertainty. What if something went wrong? What if I needed an emergency C-section? What if I just got tired and discouraged, or I didn’t stand up for the kind of birth I wanted, and I accepted unnecessary interventions? What if it went like last time? But in that moment when she was born, when I gave birth to my baby, all those little what-ifs popped like bubbles all around me and I was left with exceeding joy and accomplishment. And then, as if that weren’t enough, I turned over and they handed me my baby. I held her close against my chest, skin to skin. She was sooooo soft. I nuzzled my mouth and cheek against the top of her fuzzy little head, and she snuggled into me. She started rooting, so I helped her find my breast. She latched on easily, and we were nursing! Soon I had another contraction, and I gently pushed my placenta out. Dr. Stone stitched up a small laceration while my baby and I cuddled. For several hours I just felt warm and fuzzy and wonderfully happy.

Altogether, my labor was about six and a half hours. I stayed in the bed afterwards and rested with my baby, ate a big breakfast, and took a shower. By the time all the family arrived, I was fresh and clean and moving around. My recovery was so much easier the second time – no swelling from IV fluids, far fewer stitches, no narcotic pain medication (or its side effects), and less muscle stiffness thanks to my mobility. But by far the best thing about my recovery was the emotional high. My body created its own pain relief with oxytocin and endorphins (and no medicine interfered with that process), I was in a natural state of euphoria that carried me all the way through the postpartum period. I was emotionally healthier after my second birth, in large part due to its being a totally natural labor. I had done it. I carried the art of natural birth through to another generation. And I was finally content.
~Jennifer