Notes before you read this:
- · Don’t worry nothing is too graphic.
- · Please bear with me on some of the descriptive language – it’s somewhat difficult to verbalize what was happening, what I was feeling, etc; just roll with my crazy descriptions.
- · There may be references to things that you will have to research further to fully understand.
- · There may be some foul language, I’m just going off the cuff.
- · All timing is approximate (aside from the overall duration, that’s accurate) since when you’re in labor, it’s hard to keep an eye on the clock and document every minute.
OK here we go …
“But wait, my tub isn’t clean!!!” This is literally the thought that was going
through my mind as I began to birth my second child.
And you thought this story wouldn’t have any humor.
It’s approximately 5 am.
I wake up having slight contractions and I notice my panty liner is
somewhat damp. Hmmm … looks like I
cracked my waters again (same thing happened with Bryce). Darn it, it would have been so cool to
deliver Miles in the caul. Is today the
day? I’ve been having contractions on
and off for days and basically … I’m over it.
Nothing has hurt so far, mostly it’s just annoying. I want to meet my little man and I want to no
longer feel like the size of a small killer whale.
I wander out into the living room and hang out with my birth
ball – monitoring my contractions until 6 am.
I’m getting excited … I call Charlie and give her the heads up. “I think today’s the day”, I tell her. Of course
she was expecting my call – she told me her average delivery date was 41
weeks and here I am 41 weeks and a day, right on schedule. “Keep monitoring things – I’ll start getting
things ready on my end”, she says. “Call
me in an hour with an update.” OK – no problem.
An hour later, contractions are progressing nicely. I woke up Eric up sometime between 6:15-6:30
am. “We’re having a baby today”, I tell
him. We’re both of the mindset this is
going to be a long day. He gets up and
sits with me for a bit as I have contractions in the living room, but he can
tell I’ve moved inward on what’s happening with my body.
Bryce and my sister wake up around 6:45-7 am. By this time, I’ve gotten a bit vocal with my
contractions. Humming and moaning
through them, sure they’re getting uncomfortable, but nothing crazy. Sometime between 6:30 and 7 am, I called my
mom and told her what was going on – she’s en route. I call Charlie again – “things are definitely
progressing I tell her”. “OK, I’m on my
way”, she says. I call the birth
photographer and let her know what’s up as well. She thanks me for the call – in theory the
way it’s supposed to work is Charlie will give her the final “head over” when
things get real. Oh … things are about
to get SO real.
Between 7-7:15 am I begin to enter active labor. This is the bat shit crazy phase of labor
people tell you about. I’m not going to
lie – when I planned a home birth with Miles, there was a fear factor involved
for me. I had Bryce in a hospital with
all the usual drugs and interventions so even though I’d given birth before, I’d
never really given birth before (moms who have done it both ways know exactly
what I mean when I say that). I had no
clue what my body was capable of or what I’d be able to endure. Active labor was intense – for anyone that
has seen the Business of Being Born, I was exactly like the midwife who tells
her birth story, there was a lot of moving, rocking, swaying, moaning, slight
yelling – I was trying any and all positions that would make me feel better and
damn if those contractions weren’t one right on top of the other. In my head all I could think was: I won’t be
able to endure hours of this.
Let’s take a quick step back: I have several friends who
have birthed at home. Every story I’ve
ever heard was one of a nice, relatively calm (but long) early labor at home
with friends and family followed by an intense, but brief, active labor and
then the final stage of labor (which varies for everyone). What the hell had happened to my early
labor? I began to suspect I’d been
having it for days and it had been stopping and starting ….
Back to the birth: it’s between 7:15-7:30 am now. I’m wailing around the house and my husband
is trying to get Bryce ready to go to school.
Initially, I had planned for him to be there for the birth, but now that
I can only focus on what’s happening with my body, I kind of need him out of
there. He does so well, my big boy – he’s
not scared by any of my wailing, he asks if I’m ok. “Yes, I tell him – your brother will be here
today buddy.” “OK, mommy”. He wants and hug and a kiss before he goes to
school … that was the hardest thing for me to do because of how intense and
quick my contractions were, but I did it – a big hug and a kiss for my child
that was about to become a brother. Off
he goes with daddy to school leaving my sister and I home alone.
When I think back on my active labor, I don’t immediately go
to the pain place. Sure – it was painful
(hello, I was having a baby after all), but nothing I couldn’t handle and I
began to wonder why I’d bothered with drugs when Bryce was born because
honestly – being able to move around during my labor was totally worth whatever
I was feeling vs being stuck in a bed with a catheter up your hu-ha. It’s now almost 8 am. I’ve wandered into my bedroom because it
turns out my bed is excellent for kneeling over during these god-awful
contractions. That’s when I feel
it. I’ve just hit transition.
“Missy”, I’m basically panting – “Call Charlie, tell her the
baby is coming”. My sister starts to
text my midwife. “No”, I tell her – “you
need to call her, and call the birth photographer too”. I hear my sister on the phone “tell her I
feel like pushing” I say. Missy relays
the message and I hear Charlie tell her to get me into the tub.
MY TUB IS DISGUSTING!!!
I purposely put off cleaning it because I wanted it to be
super clean when Miles arrived – I was supposed to have the long early labor
where I would cook a meal and clean my tub and watch a romantic comedy with my
family around me and laugh and joke and be calm before the baby arrived, what
the fuck happened to my early labor??
“Missy”, I pant again – “please, the tub, it needs to be
cleaned”. She’s on it – I’m panting out
where the vinegar, bucket and rags are as I kneel next to the bed again.
Shit, shit, shit … I’m feeling the urge to push. So I do.
Believe me ladies – this is not something you argue with your body
about, you listen and do what the fuck it tells you to do.
There I am … kneeling on the floor next to my bed, beginning
to birth my son while my sister cleans my tub and my husband takes my son to
school. As you read this you probably
find that quite humorous. Believe it or
not at the time, I did too. I also felt
insanely bad for ordering my sister around this way and that, but I was
useless. I was in full on biological
mode, doing what my body needed me to do – 100% listening to it and just doing
what it told me to. My sister cleaned
the tub in record time and filled it with warm water. In between contractions I moved from the
floor to the tub and, ohmygod, the difference.
That first push on the floor had felt like my insides were on fire
(read: burning sensation, not unbearable pain).
Once in the warm water, everything just felt lubricated (not in a gross
way) and the second push was much easier.
As I’m in the tub (just having a baby ya know), I’m asking my sister to
please get the peroxide because … yea, I bled on the carpet a little bit with
that first push and don’t want it to stain.
Anyone who knows me will tell you I am forever practical.
It’s now between 8-8:15 am.
My mom wanders in to find me in the tub right around the same time my
husband gets home from taking Bryce to school.
I am calm. There is no more
wailing, no more moving around. I have
assumed a position in the tub where I am on my knees (with my knees wedged into
the sides of the tub for leverage) and my hands and arms are resting on the
back edge of the tub (for reference: see pictures on FB). My eyes are closed and I am deep
breathing. The room is quiet. My mom takes one look at me as a contraction
hits and says “are you pushing?” “Yes”,
I reply. “No, you can’t – no one is here!” she replies back. I was afraid this might happen. “It’s ok I tell her – everyone is on the
way. I’m ok. If I have to catch him, I’ll catch him.” My mom doesn’t appear comforted by this
response.
I will admit something.
I was never afraid. I won’t lie –
I was a little nervous things had progressed so quickly, that Charlie wasn’t
there yet – I mean, I basically started the last phase of labor home alone with
my sister. But I never felt fear. Everything just felt right. I was 100% convinced, if I had to, I could
birth this baby without help and simply hold him until the cavalry arrived. Of course since I was the one giving birth, I
had trouble convincing others around me of that.
Eric sat on the toilet in the bathroom and asked if I needed
anything. A wet washcloth please –
having a baby will make you a little sweaty.
After that (and a few more pushes) he could tell I’d gone inward
again. I will admit going into this home
birthing process, I had no idea what type of birther I would be – would I be
loud and whiny and clingy or would I go inside myself, ignore my surroundings
and just do the damn thing – turns out, I’m the latter kind of birther. I didn’t want a lot of touching or talking –
I had a task to do, and dammit, I was going to do it.
About 15-20 minutes after my mom and Eric got there, Charlie
and Jenn (her birth assistant) arrived to find me about to squeeze a baby into
the world. They quickly checked on Miles’s
stats (I apologized for not being able to move into a more accommodating position)
and once everything checked out OK, they got ready to catch. I’d just like to take a minute to say how
truly amazing they were: they quickly got out all the supplies, towels,
whatever they were going to need right away and very unobtrusively. A few pushes later and Miles’s head was
born. Unfortunately for the poor kid, I
couldn’t do his entire birth in a single push so Charlie had me stand up out of
the water and prop a leg on the side of the tub. Another contraction later and I had a
beautiful new baby – who happened to come equipped with an amazing set of lungs
on him. Miles was passed to me
immediately out of the womb – we sat in the warm bath together, poor kid didn’t
have a warm towel because there hadn’t been time. I’m sure he was quite chilly going from a
98.6 degree oven to the real world. Charlie
quickly checked him out and then he & I sat there and met one another.
This is the part where I get slightly emotional. Doing all my research on birth, I had learned
about the oxytocin rush that accompanies giving birth and I had been looking
forward to experiencing it with Miles since you lose that when you use drugs at
the hospital. There really aren’t words
for it, but I’m going to try my best: it was like the past three & a half
hours had never happened. Like I’d gone
from being pregnant to holding my baby in the blink of an eye – all residual
pain and stiffness momentarily gone. I
was euphoric. I’ve never done drugs, but
I have to believe it’s similar to taking whatever it is that would make you
insanely happy and carefree. To some
extent it’s like experiencing emotional overload. I was laughing, I was crying, I was joking –
it was heaven. I had this beautiful new
baby and all this loving family around me, so proud of me for what I’d just
done. I’m pretty sure it’s the happiest
I’ve ever been. Part of it is a trick
from the brain to calm the body down and induce bonding with your new
offspring. Whatever the reason – it’s
amazing and I highly recommend it. As a
bonus: Miles was super alert from the moment he was born. Looking around, hollering, cooing, blinking,
moving – it was amazing, and so different from when I’d had Bryce because of
all the hospital interventions.
Our wonderful birth photographer Lee Anne unfortunately
missed the actual birth, but got there shortly thereafter and began snapping
pics of everything. Still connected by
the umbilical cord, I was helped out of the tub and Miles and I moved to my bed
for the after birth and to bond. This is
the part where having a professional caregiver came in handy. Because of how nuts and crazy fast my birth
had been (approx. 5 am to 8:49 am when Miles was born), my body couldn’t
process that everything was done and over with.
Miles and I stayed connected for almost an hour and he nursed on both
breasts during that time – still the placenta wouldn’t birth. Missy cut Miles’s umbilical cord and Charlie
gave me a shot of Pitocin – it felt like pure adrenaline and I hated it, I
hated the way it made me feel and it made me stop and reflect on my first birth
since that’s basically the second or third thing they hook up to your IV. The foreign-ness of it just felt wrong,
especially after my kick ass oxytocin rush.
Shortly thereafter we had a successful delivery and inspection of the
placenta (a fun – if slightly gross – learning process). I had decided not to encapsulate it so it
basically became medical waste, but it was still beautiful and I was thankful
it had done its job so well. The more I
learn about birth, the more the biology of it all (and what our bodies can do)
fascinates me. We literally grow an
organ to have a baby and then shed that organ when the baby is born. If that doesn’t make you feel awesome – well,
you are.
I returned to bed and my mom and sister made breakfast for
the whole gang. I enjoyed my scrambled
eggs and toast while Charlie performed the standard AGPAR test on Miles, gave
him his vitamin K shot and took his first bloodwork. Then Eric went to get him dressed and came
back for some cuddling. I had been
drinking Gatorade during and post birth to stay hydrated and because I was required
to pee after birth. This was another fun
process of having such a quick birth – my body simply wouldn’t go. I knew I had to go, but I was having trouble
with my brain communicating with the appropriate body parts to make that happen. I don’t think I’ve ever sat on the toilet so
long waiting for nature to take its course – I felt like a guy hogging the
toilet for a poop. Jenn sprinkled some peppermint
EO in the toilet to help, which was tingly and interesting. Still a no go. Charlie & Jenn prepared to leave with the
warning that I needed to go in the next few hours or they’d be back to insert a
catheter. Needless to say, when I went a
little over an hour later – I texted them ASAP to avoid that.
About 2 hours after having a baby, I was home, snuggled up
in my bed with my husband and my new baby.
Charlie and Jenn were gone and my sister and mom were in the kitchen
cleaning and straightening. This, by
far, was one of the biggest boons of having a child at home. Never once was I uncomfortable, never once
was I woken up to be poked or prodded and there were no beeping machines and
florescent lights. I was in my space and
it was fabulous.
It wouldn’t be a funny story if I didn’t highlight a few
things that took place. Shortly after my
mom arrived, my sister decided to make a Starbucks run – Charlie arrived
shortly after she left and told my mom to call her and tell her to turn around
or she was going to miss it. So my
wonderful sister sacrificed her coffee so she could watch my son be born, and
yes – she barely made it. Secondly, when
we drained the tub after Miles was born a clogged pipe led to overflowing
toilets – so our house was partially flooded less than 30 minutes or so after
having a baby. Poor Miles – we had to
turn the water off so instead of a wet rag, the poor kid had baby wipes used on
him for his first wipe down. Luckily he
was born in the tub or that could have been a lot grosser. I also had to forgo a shower until later that
evening when everything was resolved. We
called the county and after confirming it wasn’t on their end, we called a
plumber who came and snaked the drain (a fun sound to hear when you’re trying
to rest after having a baby). The whole
situation was humorous because normally I’d be uptight and freaked out over a
plumbing issue like that (and literally every towel being used to mop up
water), but I was still riding my birth high and was in “whatever” land so
things were handled without me, which was nice.
The rest of the day passed serenely. Eric and I bonded with the baby. I breastfed when Miles needed me. Miles and I both slept a lot. That evening Eric picked Bryce up like it was
a normal day and when he got home we showed him his brother. Bryce was more intrigued by the wrapped
present waiting for him – something I’d picked up a few weeks prior as a Big
Brother present so he’d feel like the day was special for him as well. It was a Buzz Lightyear action figure and
Bryce was in love. That’s to say – he didn’t
really notice there was a baby hanging around until the next evening. It was adorable and honestly, for the best as
I was still pretty tired and wrapped up in the new baby and his needs. We slept as a family of 4 for the first time
that night and I got to experience being snuggled in by both my children – a feeling
I’ll surely miss as they grow.
And there it is – the story of how Miles came to be (minus the
part about how we created him in Alaska in the first place).
And for those wondering, his middle name has double meaning:
(1) it’s my maiden name and (2) there is a Bennett Lake in Alaska, the place of
Miles’s conception.
