As I'm sure anyone who came within 50 yards of me during my conception and pregnancy stage knows, I became rather obsessed with natural birth, especially as expounded by my new hero Ina May, the hippie turned midwife who made home birthing cool again.
Ina May Gaskins (I love her!)
Even before I was pregnant, I'd studied up on her theories and loved what I learned. Having enmeshed myself in that philosophy, I wasn't afraid of the birthing experience at all. Sometimes I was worried that I was too unafraid and was going to end up being surprised and overwhelmed. But my wise midwives (carefully hand-selected because they were so in-line with my own deeply held, though untried, birthing beliefs) encouraged me to not be afraid and said if I had to choose between being naive and scared, to be naive. (I will write about how much I loved my midwives and home birth later. It is a topic worthy of its own post.)
Sometimes I hesitate to talk about my pregnancy and birthing experience because everything went so perfectly, I feel like I'm bragging, but for the sake of history I will tell the story exactly like it happened. While I did experience some rather severe feet swelling towards the end of my pregnancy and as a result couldn't stand for too long, my midwives gave me very specific directions on how to minimize the problem and as I result, I didn't suffer from it too greatly. That was really my only complaint after I completed my nauseous second month of pregnancy. I'm not sure why I was so lucky. Probably a combination of good genes and the hundreds of dollars I spent on pregnancy-related herbs. I'm sure my excellent Temper-Pedic mattress, getting a massage from my husband every day, and having a relatively stress-free desk jobs were all contributing factors as well. With all those things working in my favor, my pregnancy went splendidly and I was optimist that my labor and delivery would be equally problem-free.
A week or so before my baby came, I got the following fortune cookie:
I knew enough about the appearance of babies immediately after leaving the womb to know that it was a sign.
So, I was ready! My sister Heather prepared my toenails for the big event
It says "Adele" in case you can't read it.
The day before our due date, we had a routine appointment with the midwives. We had planned to go to our very favorite sushi place for dinner afterwards, but as we were leaving I realized that I was really in the mood for pizza. Then, I remembered that the week before the midwives had mentioned a pizza place with a labor-inducing pizza. So, we decided to go there instead. With some help from the waiter, we ordered said pizza (it was not clearly labeled) and a regular pizza to share (they were the small, artsy kind). It was tasty enough, but I didn't go into labor on the way home, so I pretty much forgot about it until about three weeks later. But, [spoiler alert!] based on what happened the next morning, I am including it in the birth story.
a picture of the restaurant to break up the monotony of text
We were super tired when we got home, so we were both in bed asleep by 8. The next morning, Matt woke up at 3am to go to work, like he always does. Most mornings, I just stay in bed, but this morning I got out of bed when he did. I was feeling a strange sensation in my stomach which, upon consideration, I decided might be a contraction. I decided to use the handy dandy app I had recently installed for just such an occasion and started to measure their length and consistency. Come to find out, they were coming every three minutes and lasting a minute each. After timing three or four, I decided to share this information with Matt.
I don't think I really believed that I was in labor, and if I was, surely I would be in labor for some time, so I told him that he should go ahead and go to work and I would just call him if I needed him to come home. So, we went ahead with his morning preparations. Well, he went ahead. At this point, I wasn't too much help. I wasn't immobilized of anything, but I only had about (well actually, exactly) two minutes to get anything done before I had another "intense sensation that requires all your concentration" (how Ina May describes contractions). I puttered around watching Matt make his sandwiches for work and timing my contractions. At 3:45am, we did our morning prayers together, and he put on his backpack and was heading out the door. All the sudden I realized that it wasn't a good idea for him to leave. As it turns out Matt was, as usual, a step ahead of me. He had already realized that he wouldn't be going to work that day, but had been going through the motions because he didn't want to bother disagreeing with me. Yes, at this point I had been already been having steady contractions for 45 minutes, but I guess I was just a little dense. I mean this was our actual due date-- we were NOT expecting this. Seriously, who has their baby on their actual due date?!!
In our birthing class (taught by one of our midwives! yay!), we learned that iron really helps with the birthing process, so as soon as you go into labor, you are supposed to eat a steak or something else iron-y. I had one in the fridge, marinated, cooked and ready to be devoured as soon as it was go time.
I can't remember when in the scheme of things it happened, but sufficient to say, the steak did not remain in my stomach all that long. But, hopefully my body was able to soak up some of the iron during its brief stay.
I waited until 4am (when I'd been having contractions for a full hour) before calling the midwife. I explained the situation and she asked me some follow-up questions. When I asked when I should call her again, she said, "Well, typically I would tell you to call again when your contractions were four minutes apart, but this is a little different from normal. So, I would say call me again in an hour OR if something happens like your water breaks OR if you want someone to come over." I thought that was a good plan, so I hung up and went on with my life again.
Matt started scurrying around getting things ready. We worked together to get the bed ready-- the nice sheets you want on the bed after the delivery, then a plastic sheet provided by the midwife, and on top some old sheets that you don't care about (also provided by the midwives). Matt had to move several pieces of furniture to make room for the birthing tub, and then he had to inflate it and fill it, so he had a lot of do.
I believe it was at this point that I decided that I really wanted to put in my contacts and wash my face (I was still wearing my makeup from the day before). I'm not sure how long it normally takes me to do this (I would THINK I would have been able to get it done in my two minute interlude, but of course the interlude were shrinking by this point) but it literally took me a half an hour (and I mean that "literally" literally, not in the "I'm trying to make a point" sense of the word). In hindsight, I realize it was good training for the next few weeks of my life when it would take about seven attempts and several hours to do something as simple as getting the dishwasher unloaded.
In an attempt to spend up my face washing, I decided to take a bath. Now, let me backtrack and tell you a really cool story. We are currently living in Matt's deceased grandparents' home. When Matt's mom was in labor with him, she brought his older siblings to this very house for grandma to watch them while she was in the hospital. When she got here, she decided that she felt like taking a bath to help with her laboring, so that's what she did. It turned out to be relaxing and comfortable, so stayed there for quite a while. She says all the adults in the house kept knocking on the door and telling her she ought to go to the hospital, but she was so relaxed she wanted to stay. Eventually, she did leave and less than an hour later Matt was born. Almost all of the laboring that produced my husband took place in my very own bath tub!!! So, obviously, I thought it would be super neat if I spent some time in the tub producing Matt's little one. Since my own birthing tub was still being set up, I figured the time was perfect.
Surprisingly, the brief time I spent in the regular bath tub was probably the most uncomfortable part of my whole labor. Laying down on my back was very unpleasant, and I will admit I felt very sorry for any woman giving birth in a hospital who has to stay in that position! So I tried sitting up, but then the whole top of my body got very cold. It was not very long at all before I gave up the idea entirely.
Before I knew it, the hour had passed, so I called the midwife back. When she asked how I was getting though the contractions, I told her that after my failed bath tub experience, I was standing up and moving my hips in a figure eight (something I'd read in one of my beloved hippie dippy books). She gave me excellent advice: "You can't go popping up every time you have a contraction-- you'll wear yourself out!" (I hadn't noticed it but I was, in fact, getting to be worn out) "Whenever you change positions, the first few contractions will be more intense, but you need to figure out a way to relax through them while you're sitting or laying down."
So I moved into my bed where I found a comfortable position laying on my side and started my deep breathing. My marvelous midwife was absolutely right--that was much better. After about thirty minutes in bed, I decided that it was time for the midwives to come, so I sent a text.
Melissa was the first midwife to arrive on the scene about 20-30 minutes later. We had some small talk. She was impressed that I had already thrown up twice without being the least bit upset about it. (It turns out, some people are traumatized by vomiting. That was a new idea to me.)
One nice thing about my midwives' philosophy is that they don't really believe pelvic exams are very useful. They think that knowing how far you're dilated usually gives people false worry or false sense of hope. It can take hours (or days) to get to a certain point, but could be super quick after that. Or vice versa. It's easier to tell how labor is progressing based the contractions. You can get through an entire birth with these ladies (including all your prenatals) and not have an exam "down there" until after the birth when they check to see if you tore. Now, that being said, Melissa explained to me that since I was progressing at an unusual pace, it was hard to get an idea of how far along I actually was, but if I wanted, she could check me out and see how quickly they needed to assemble the troops (AKA get the other midwives to come). That sounded smart to me (I've never been bothered by pelvic exams since I decided before my first one that it would only be as awkward as I made it), so she checked and I was at a five or six (I can't remember which one). I'm not sure if that was a number that warranted a fast gathering of everyone or not, but it does seem like everyone was there not too long after that.
In planning for labor and delivery, I had a feeling that I would be very inwardly focused during the whole thing and not really paying attention to my surroundings, and that did turn out to be the case. At one point (later on) I was laying in bed and I decided I wanted to put a blanket on me (or take it off), so I started doing that and out of nowhere came Matt's voice, "Do you want me to do that?" I was just like, "what, are you here?" But, of course, he was! Where else would he be! I'm sure there's some sort of spiritual analogy in there-- about God watching us, waiting to help, and us not being aware of Him.
Between when Melissa arrived and everyone else did, I decided to give the birthing tub a try.
First time in tub
I was in there awhile, but didn't find it very comfortable at that point. Maybe because the water wasn't warm enough. (That was probably my fault because the entire time Matt was filling it, I kept telling him not to make it too hot because typically I can't stand being submerged in water that is overly warm.) So, I was there in the not-quite-warm-enough water and Matt and Melissa were heating huge stock pots of water on the stove and dumping it in. And that must have taken awhile, so maybe I was in there longer than I thought. But before I could see if the hot water from the stove was doing any good, I decided that I needed to pee, so I got out of the tub and proceeded to the bathroom.
Let me tell you how much I love my midwife: Once I got on the pot, I realized that I was wet and cold. Before I could even say anything, she was in there wrapping me in blankets and towels. When I made a joke about dripping water on the hardwood floor in the hall, she went and wiped everything up and then put down pads to protect them from any future dripping. Then she went back to figuring out the birthing tub temperature.
Once I got over feeling wet and cold, I was very comfortable in the bathroom. I must have stayed in there for quite awhile, but I'm not for sure. At this point time had very little meaning for me. I don't think time had ever passed so quickly in my life. While I was in the bathroom, the other two midwives arrived. I wasn't paying attention to them. Everyone was busy scurrying around getting everything ready. I was happy to be alone in the bathroom doing my thing. Well, I really needed to pee, but couldn't, and that was very frustrating. The midwives would periodically yell out to me ideas that might help with the peeing situation, and although none of them helped, I felt loved and supported by their suggestions. While sitting there, I could easily stand up and lean on the edge of the tub and move my hips during contractions, which was quite helpful and didn't wear me out since it wasn't far to stand. I remember at one point Matt came to check on me and I said, "I'm fine. I'm comfortable here." which made the midwives laugh. But, I really did feel comfortable, all things considered.
At one point while I was in the bathroom, I threw up again. I only remember this because midwife Laura walked by and calmly said, "You know, they say you dilate one inch for every time you vomit!" I said that sounded likely a lovely idea. I really felt like I was progressing along. Throughout the whole thing, I just really felt like things were moving along at a nice, steady pace. Not frantic or too fast, and not slow and dragging. Just moving along nice and steady.
Not long thereafter, I decided to move back to the bed. I was focusing on listening to my body, which I interpreted as just doing what I felt like. I'm very good at that! I felt like going and laying in my bed on my side because that was so lovely before, so that's what I did.
(I am deeply embarrassed by the tattered and torn window blind in the background. Please know that it has since been replaced by something new and snazzy-looking.)
By that time, the birthing tub (which was in our room) had been filled with the right temperature water. The midwives covered it with a thick quilt to help it stay warm and left Matt and I by ourselves (I was still in bed). I was very inwardly focused, so I was hardly aware of Matt's presence, but it was nice to be there with him and no pressure and no outsider watching, just being. I called Laura in once to coach me through a contraction when I felt like I needed extra help. It was nice that they were all there if I needed them, but not hovering. I was just breathing and thinking relaxing things. I had decided against any formal kind of relaxing or self-hypnosis because I figured I already knew how to relax and didn't need anyone to tell me. Plus, the formulaic relaxing seemed like it required too much thinking. I wanted to go with the flow and not think too hard while in labor.
After a little while in bed, there was some sort of change in the way the contractions felt. I realized I must be starting transition (dilating the last three inches--typically considered the most painful part of labor). I remember yelling out, "THIS IS DIFFERENT!!!!" as my way of telling the midwives that I needed them now. They all came in right away. At this point, my contractions did get pretty intense. I couldn't focus enough to go to my "happy place" and wasn't sure what to do. God bless my wonderful midwives because they did know just what to do! Low moaning was the answer! I had read that in my books, but totally didn't think of it. They told me to take a deep breathe in and then make a moaning sound, as low as a possibly could, while I slowly breathed out. I can honestly tell you that the moaning decreased my discomfort by probably 80%. It was amazing! In addition to making me feel better, it occupied my mind, but didn't require any thinking. When things would get super intense, I would still moan, but it would become higher. One of the midwives would let out a low moan to remind me (without saying anything) to go lower and I would remember and moan lower, lower, lower. And it helped so, so, so much!
Even with the moaning, things were getting intense. I was still laying on my side in bed. Although I didn't realize it at the time, in hindsight I realized that someone was rubbing my back and someone else (maybe two someones?) were holding my legs slightly apart, which relieved some of the pressure I was experiencing. Between contractions (a rather short break now), I was still complaining that I needed to pee. They wrapped pads around me and told me to go ahead and pee if I wanted to. Honestly, needing to pee was almost as uncomfortable for me as the contractions. It was probably actually a good distraction. Periodically they would ask if I wanted to move to the birthing tub and I would always answer with a resounding NO. At one point, out of the blue, I told them to stop rubbing my back. I don't know why, but I just didn't want them to do it anymore. I remember hearing them say to each other that that meant the baby had moved into just the right position. So, I felt good because, obviously, I must have been listening to my body.
I remembered learning in the birthing class that lots of women got scared during transition because they were afraid that the contractions were going to get stronger and stronger, but in reality, at that point the contractions don't get stronger, they just get closer and closer together. I asked Laura (who had taught the class) if this was the point when the contractions wouldn't be getting stronger, just closer together, she said that I was probably at the point that they wouldn't even be getting any closer together. I found that very encouraging. If you had asked me how long transition lasted, I think I would have said five maybe ten very intense minutes. Turns out it was actually about 30 or 40. Time was seriously flying! (But I think that in my files, they might have started timing transition when the midwife saw me vomiting in the bathroom. Apparently that is a sign that transition is about to start.)
Around this time, I felt like getting into the birthing tub, but I didn't feel like I could move. The midwives said that they would help me, and then they pretty much carried me into the tub, which luckily was only about one foot away from the bed. I had one or two more contraction in the tub, and then I just decided "I'm done." Not like "I'm tired, I give up," but more like "I'm not going to do this anymore." Not like a giving up way, more like walking away from a bad relationship. That was me. "I'm done with contraction." And the crazy thing was, after that NO MORE CONTRACTIONS. Not the whole time I was pushing, so that was lucky.
When I had moved into the tube, I realized that it was getting close to time to start pushing. I thought of a friend who had given birth two months earlier (with the same midwives even), and I said, "Who knows--maybe I'll be pushing for four hours." The midwives laughed and said I definitely would not be. I don't know how they knew (well, probably the intuition that comes from experience), but they were totally right.
Once in the tub, I again started feeling the extreme need to poop. They said that was a GREAT sign because it indicates that the baby is in exactly the right position. "So, you're telling me I just need to poop this baby out?" When they said yes, I decided that that seems like something I was certainly capable of doing and a very ordinary sort of thing, and not intimidating at all. At this point, I felt like pushing the baby out would be very do-able. Another blessing.
I was on my hands and knees in the birthing tub with my head on the side of the tub. Matt was pouring water over my back, which was heavenly.
Since I wasn't feeling contractions at all, the whole thing was very relaxing. Occasionally my arms would get tired. When that happened, I'd just lean my head more heavily on the side of the tub and let my arms float in the water. Periodically I would ask for a drink, and Matt would place a straw right in my mouth.
I felt very, very relaxed.
Don't I look relaxed?
Now, in natural childbirth, ideally the woman pushes with a contraction and thus allow the uterus to do most of the work. Since I didn't know when I was having contractions, this did complicate things just a tad. The midwives kept reminding me to listen to my body, so I decided that I would not overthink it and just push when it occurred to me that doing so might be a good idea.
I've heard some friends say that while giving birth, they worried that they weren't doing it right or became discouraged when their efforts didn't yield results quickly enough. Luckily, my go-with-the-flow, non-exacting nature prevented this kind of discouragement for me. I decided there was no point in stressing out about when to push. If I started pushing and it didn't seem right, I'd stop. If I "randomly" decided to start pushing, it was probably the right time. It wasn't an exact science and no matter what the baby would come out eventually. I'd imagine that not being in pain helped with this immensely.
During this whole time, my water had never broken. (Which is lucky because, as I learned in my prenatal class, having the sack intact makes labor a lot easier by both cushioning the contractions and allowing the baby to move into position more easily.) Midwife Heidi invited me to reach down and feel the amniotic sack (which bulged out before the baby did) with my hand. At first, I wasn't interested, but then, not wanting to miss out on anything, I did. I could feel it bulging out, and I called out, "That is neat!" I could also feel Adele's head just underneath the surface. I remember thinking, "Oh, that will totally fit! No problem!"
One midwife was taking photos (per my request) and coaching me, as needed. Another was periodically checking the baby's heart rate and monitoring my progress, all while standing in less than one square foot of space because we'd unthinkingly put the tub in the very corner of the room not leaving space for someone to stand. The third midwife was (as I learned later), driving the kids/grandkids of all three midwives to a different babysitter. (They'd all been with one of the husbands, but he had to go to work.) At the time, I was not aware of any of those things. I was very "in the zone."
I was doing mostly little pushes because I didn't want to tear, but at some point I decided that wasn't getting the job done, so I started doing big ones. In hindsight, that must have been "listening to my body" because she was born shortly thereafter.
I've watched the video of Adele being born so many times that at this point, I can't really separate what I remember from what I've watched. But I guess that doesn't really matter anyway. (At this point, I will also say that I have the video of Adele being born on my phone. I decided that I will never post it anywhere, but I'm very happy to show it to anyone who wants to see it. Next time you're near me and my phone, just ask!)
I do remember the uncomfortable sensation of skin being pulled too tight. It made me say "ouch ouch ouch" for the first time. Laura said that was the "ring of fire" and to "blow it out" (in case that's not clear, she meant to blow like I was blowing out a candle, to help with the pain) I did, and felt better. Heidi (taking up the rear) told me that she was supporting my tissue, which was very reassuring and helped me relax some.
After a few more little pushes, I gave a big push and felt her head come out. I asked, "Is she out?" and they answered that her head was. Obviously, I knew it was just her head, I just wasn't worried about semantics at that time. Matt was there watching her head and talking to the midwife, all while still pouring water on my back.
Heidi and Matt exclaimed amazement that she "really was still in the bag" (It's said that babies born still in their bag are going to have very lucky lives!) Matt wished Adele a happy birthday. I said, "Wow! That wasn't so bad!!"
It was, beyond a doubt, the most shocking moment of my life.
This picture is very unattractive, but I like it because it captures my shock.
Matt and I had frequently talked about how there was a baby inside me, but it all just seemed so unfathomable that a real, live human being was just right there, with only a layer of flesh between us. We just couldn't ever quite wrap our minds around it. But then, there she was! It was a miracle. Really, really a miraculous miracle.
We got to sit in the tub and do skin-to-skin time and get to know each other while the cord stopped pulsating. It was amazing.
And the midwife took this video of me sharing my feelings about the experience:
Sitting in the tub after the birth was a lovely, peaceful while simultaneously exciting time. Once Matt cut the cord, things got kind of crazy. We started breastfeeding. One midwife was working on delivering the placenta, but it didn't seem to want to detach. They had never seen anything quite like it. In hindsight, I realize it was because of the wheat germ oil I'd been taking. That stuff works wonders for making your placenta nice and strong. You're supposed to stop taking it several weeks before delivery or else the placenta will be so strong that it might not detach after the birth. Apparently, I didn't stop taking it soon enough! But now I know it really works!
That knowledge didn't help in the moment though. I'm not for sure, but I THINK I heard one midwife say that if the placenta wouldn't detach, I'd have to go to the hospital. But, I knew in my heart (probably listening to my body again), that if I would stand up and squat, it would come out. So, we handed the baby over to Matt
and did just that. It came out, but was shredded into several different pieces. Again, they said they'd never seen anything like it. But they put it together and were quite confident they had it all. They did give me some sort of a pill as a precautionary measure "just in case."
I really wanted to take a shower, so while I did that, Matt got to snuggle the baby.
Midwife Laura walked me into the bathroom for my shower and she stood outside the stall the whole time asking if I felt lightheaded. I was feeling totally fine, so I thought it was strange that she was asking.
I'm not sure how they did this in the short time I was in the shower (I didn't even wash my hair), but when we got back to the room, the birthing tub was emptied and removed and our bed was made. (fun fact: they drained the tub out the window.) The midwives put a dreamy electric blanket on me and wrapped me up good, and I relaxed in bed while Matt helped weigh the baby. (7lbs, 12oz)
Then a midwife looked the baby over real good to make sure everything was ship shape, and she passed with flying colors.
Then we got our first family photo!
The three of us sat in bed bonding while the midwives were in the other room doing laundry and stuff. An hour or so later, they came back and examined me, and I also passed with flying colors-- no stitched needed!! They gave us some more advise (none of which I remembered, except Matt had to walk me to the bathroom for the rest of the day), and then left. (One called that night to see how we were doing, and another came the next evening to check on us. Love my midwives!)
Then Grandma came and brought me Arby's. Yum! Then we slept for several hours. (When babies are born, they'll normally be awake for a little while and then sleep for eight hours, so we took advantage.) When Grandpa got done with work, he and Grandma came. Such a perfect, relaxing afternoon. I was so, so thankful to be at home where I could sit around naked without any strangers coming in and out. I was so glad I didn't have to worry about going anywhere. So glad I could be completely comfortable and relaxed.
Here's our little angel a few hours after her birth. Since I haven't mentioned it yet, I will say that she was born at 10:04 am, almost exactly seven hours after I started noticing my contractions. (My midwives said that for my next baby, they will have to race over as soon as I show any signs at all.)
Adele slept all night on my chest. It was awesome. The next morning, I worked for about 90 minutes on a project for my ex-boss. We decided that Matt should go ahead and go to class that day, so his mom came to sit with me. My two sisters and five nieces and nephews came too. It was a party! And I felt pretty great.
So, that's my story. A bit unique in that I never for one moment felt scared or nervous or like I couldn't do it. I'm so thankful that for whatever reason, birth never seemed scary to me. I'm so thankful that I was surrounded by people I knew and loved and trusted. I'm thankful that I was able to be completely in control of the situation, but also not have to worry about managing anything. Most of all, I'm thankful that I get to be the mother of this sweet, energetic, curious, strong-willed little girl.
Happy 9 Months Adele!!!
