I feel like I need to start with this disclaimer. This is MY story and my experience and none of these are a judgement on you or your decisions or on the staff and people who have supported me through all of these babies.
To tell this story well, we have to start at my first delivery. I completely trusted my OBGYNs to take care of me. I read up a little on labor, but was most definitely NOT prepared. I ended up getting an epidural, which they let wear off (without telling me), so I ended the process in confused pain (because they wouldn’t tell me it had worn off) and slightly traumatized. So, with my 2nd, I knew I didn’t want to feel that panic again, so I chose to get an epidural asap… BUT I ended up back laboring to 10cm without one. But the actual pushing process was SO much easier. So by the time I had my 3rd, I figured I had done the pushing and actual birthing unmedicated with #1, then the whole labor with #2, so let’s put it together and have a fully unmedicated birth. And while it went well (and I realize I never shared #3’s full birth story), it was a WILD experience. I knew I was in labor first thing in the AM, checked with the midwives around 11, they sent me to lunch. Where I had contractions every 10 minutes, then by the end of the hour, every 5. We drove across the street and by the time I navigated the parking garage, went down an elevator, walked to another elevator, and up again, got checked in… my water broke in triage and 20 minutes later she was born. The staff was confused, flustered, and really unhelpful. As the nurse tried to give me pitocin after delivery and confusingly looked around for my IV, which I didn’t have, and knowing I specifically said no pitocin, and I wasn’t hemorrhaging, I just knew that we wouldn’t be choosing a hospital birth again.
Anyway, I’ve come a long way in understanding physiological birth. Wanting to feel safe, supported, peaceful, and present with what’s happening in my body during the process. So when we found out we were pregnant in March I immediately started interviewing midwives. I was a day away from signing the contract when we went for our 7 week ultrasound…
We were given the surprise of our lives when we saw TWO precious heartbeats, TWO precious blessings in my womb. I will never forget the screams that erupted from my 8 and 6 yr old, how my 2 yr old kept repeating “2 babies”, nor how Tim and I wept with the goodness of God. The joy (and definite overwhelm) will be some of my greatest memories.
I immediately was asked by the OBs if I would consider blood transfusions. That we would induce at 37 weeks (November 10th). That everything had to change. No homebirth. So, I went home and did what I do… I dove into research on whether I could homebirth or not, and truly while it might have been possible, I surrendered to a hospital birth and more monitoring than I wanted, because that’s what felt wisest to me.
That all changed just two short weeks later, when we discovered baby A had stopped growing.
There are other posts on how I dealt with the loss, and some I’ll never share, but what you need to know in regards to birth is that I got to sign that homebirth contract, with ALL the bittersweet emotions.
The first immediate difference in care was this:
After I lost baby A, the OB said, “you will probably lose this one too.” And the midwife said, “there is absolutely zero data for a spontaneous di-di pregnancy with no history of losses for you to lose this baby. You will have this baby come December.”
So...
Here we are, one week and some change past our due date. Wondering and starting to worry that we may have to perform interventions to get little man here. I had been having practice contractions for about a week, but nothing that would progress. It honestly felt like Groundhog Day.
The night before labor, I cried myself to sleep begging God to answer my prayers. That we would be safe, that he would come the next day…
2:50am- woke up to a huge contraction. Went to the bathroom and laid back down. Immediately another. Grabbed my ball to change positions and see if it would dissipate, 7 minutes later, it most definitely didn’t. Stood up for the next go around and at this point, I knew it was a GO.
3:30am- woke Tim up to start getting the room ready
3:45am- texted and called the midwife. Contractions were 7-8 minutes apart lasting 60-90 seconds.
5:00 am- midwife, Crystal, and birth angel (I mean assistant), Mary, arrived.
6:45 am- got to snuggle my sweet 2 year old.
Then they hid my clock. 😂
We discovered pretty quickly that even with all the chiropractic care and positioning exercises I diligently did, that baby boy had flipped ROP. If you don’t know what that means, just know it’s one of the worst positions possible and that it increases length of labor and pain.
As the contractions picked up, Mary went into doula mode and had me shifting into all kind of positions and wonderfully I could feel that baby and I were working together, he was shifting and we were making progress.
Somewhere before transition, after laboring on the dilation station, I got to hug my big girls and then it was go time.
Here’s where I’ll be super honest. Unmedicated childbirth is hard. It’s intense. Requires a lot of mental preparation and the ability to embrace pain (or intensity whatever you like to call it).
We prepared for grief to hit me at some point during or after labor… that I would mourn the second baby that wasn’t there. And it hit earlier than I expected. I quietly cried between contractions and truthfully when the waves would come, I didn’t want to embrace them and use them, I wanted to run from them. But I didn’t have a choice, and as Tim and I had practiced, he got more encouraging with each one.
I never went a moment without either his or Mary’s hands on me, encouraging and loving me. I never felt alone in my grief, pain, or overwhelm, and when things got crazy… (Flying cowgirl position is NUTS, but effective), and I didn’t want to keep going, their arms supported me.
I remember having to choose to work WITH the contractions. I remember literally crying out to God for help, over and over. I remember not being able to move into another position.
And then…
I was pushing. Standing up. What?!
I mean I had prepared to let gravity help me. I’d delivered side-lying with #3, but I didn’t think I’d do this lol.
But I did.
9:04am- He finally rotated. I made enough noise the girls were concerned, and his head was out.
9:05am- Tim and Crystal were ready to catch him and the next push, he was welcomed into his father’s waiting arms.
We did it.
God answered our prayers.
Our precious boy was born weighing 8lbs 9oz and 20.5” long.
10:10am- our 3 big girls walked into the bedroom to joyfully welcome their baby brother.
My precious family.
More blessings than I ever dared to hope.
Waiting to be reunited with our girl in heaven.
Knowing the goodness of God.
Knowing the hope Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection give us.
Knowing that this is just a glimpse of heaven.
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