Labor Eventually Turns to Birth!

Great birth story: prodromal labor, active labor halting, natural waterbirth at home.  A little bit of everything!

http://mamabirth.blogspot.com/2012/04/week-of-labor-and-totally-intervention.html

I find this encouraging that other women labor this way, and that all those contractions help, even though they may drive mama to the end of her rope.  A challenging way to labor, but with pluses as well.  Kudos to this mom for outlasting the ups and downs of prodromal labor!

My Sis, the Prodromal Laborer

My li'l sis, Deborah, just wrote a post on prodromal labor.  Last April, she gave birth to her third baby via this labor pattern.  I would love to link to or post the birth story when she makes it available (but I understand how it is--I still haven't published Ian's birth story from 19 months ago), but for now, this will have to suffice:

http://belladolcebirths.blogspot.com/2012/01/prodromal-labor-what-is-it.html

Deborah and I are of the same mind when it comes to discussing prodromal labor: that all-too-often, trying to fit what it is (or can be) into a chart or concise definition becomes too restrictive and not all that helpful.  This is the biggest reason that, for all my wanting to educate about the fact that such a labor pattern does exist, this blog has yet to truly "define" it in terms that many birthy sites have--I find those definitions leave one thinking too much in-the-box, which we tend to do anyway when it comes to what is "normal" in birth.  (Not to mention that my own experiences with this pattern often oppose what is detailed in the charts.)

Unfortunately, I have found that the people who are most close-minded in relation to the prodromal labor pattern are birth workers (be it doctors, nurses, midwives, doulas, or birth educators) and women who have given birth before.  In fact, in some cases, women who have several (even many) children tend to be the most dismissive about the possibility of prodromal labor, sometimes considering a woman's own experience with it suspect (as in, what could be wrong with your perception to make you think this can happen?).  It is as if whatever was their own experience is all that can possibly be out there.

The most open-minded people I've encountered on this subject are (not surprisingly) women who have experienced the pattern themselves and women who have never before given birth.  I've even seen people go from open-minded about the possibility before birth to completely narrow-minded after experiencing a more textbook birth.  (It is on the close-minded people that I sometimes wish prodromal labor, I admit.)  When it does occur, it can be very vindicating. :)

Want to Read Another Prodromal Experience from the Laboring Woman's Perspective?

Lynsie linked to this blog as she was (possibly is still?) in the middle of a prodromal pattern of labor a couple weeks ago. I like to divide prodromal labor into two categories--one that takes breaks (and can last weeks--perhaps 5-6 hours or a whole day/night, then not picking up like that again for another day or two), and the other that continues uninterrupted until baby is born (and lasts a couple days or more). It appears that what she experienced is the first pattern--and my favorite, personally!

In her post, she mentions that she's found it a comfort to read my experiences w/this type of labor, and that is exactly why I started this blog. There are too many women who come out of this pattern with no validation for what they've experienced, and from my perspective, it can create a very lonely--even crazy feeling. (More on feeling crazy later--have I got a story for you! I can hardly wait to tell it!)

So, if you are a woman who has stumbled upon this blog because you, too, are experiencing something that you cannot find in printed material or haven't had satisfactory answers from your provider, doula or childbirth educator (there are many who are either not aware it exists or have misconceptions about it), you may find comfort in hopping over to Lynsie's post, Diary of a Laboring Woman. She gives some good detail--helpful for those of us who search for things based on "sypmtoms." You may find her experience to be for you what mine was for her--comforting.

Go check it out. I do hope she posts about how it went!

Contracting vs. Not Contracting: A Visual

This was my belly a little over a week ago, at 19.5 weeks, not contracting.

The shape of my belly changes as I have a contraction.

As pregnancy progresses, some contractions become so obvious that even outsiders can tell a difference. A couple years ago, when I was 35 weeks with Haley, I was at a scrap-booking event with a friend. As a contraction began (they were about 10 minutes apart and very strong that day), I sat back in my chair and rested a moment. A couple ladies across the way (about 10 feet away) looked at my belly and asked, "Are you having a contraction? . . . Because your belly looks really odd." It did. It was contorted and almost boxy--like my uterus had corners to it! I have no idea what was going on during that contraction, but I sure wished I'd brought my camera!

20 Weeks, Contracting Regularly

Before I get into last night's events, I want to disclose a few things: I am not a clock-watcher. The reason I know so well the timing of last night's episode has to do with the fact that I was near a clock all evening and could not help but notice that contractions were coming very close together (verifiable by glancing at said clock). I had only to set my eyes in a particular direction to see what time it was in each room I found myself (and for the bath, I could also note the length of contractions, since that clock also had a second hand).

I would/do not advocate that every woman time every contraction that ever happens, nor do I do this myself. However, my researchy side has found that sometimes this is the only way for people to acknowledge that these kind of things actually do happen--they are not just impressions. Actual times can be noted. Several things that I have experienced contraction-wise in pregnancy and labor are so far from textbook that I find the in-the-textbook-box thinkers quite annoying at times.

It can be very discouraging to go through a non-textbook experience and have it discounted or explained away by these people. I recall being in a room full of women a few months ago, listening to a woman who has probably witnessed a few hundred births (if not more) and should know better, defining prodromal labor as contractions that a woman experiences that are only a few seconds long, but "mom" has the impression that she is in labor, when a more objective viewer can clearly see that she is simply paying attention too soon (another way to say prodromal labor is not real). While I do not doubt that this scenario is possible, I did not appreciate that she failed to acknowledge the fact that women do indeed have long, strong and close-together contractons for days at a time that very much fit the description of true labor contractions. What was made clear in her description was that she herself had not ever labored this way, and had probably not seen much of it either.

I hope to expound on a few of my "researchy" ideas in this pregnancy, but I need to talk with my midwives first, so for now, here's what began at 5 p.m. yesterday despite being well-rested, eating and snacking, drinking 64 ounces of water, emptying my bladder often and soaking in a warm tub of water:

Monday marked the completion of my 20th week of pregnancy. My body celebrated by contracting every 2 minutes for seven-plus hours. And that quite unexplainably, as they started about an hour after my waking from a 2-hr nap, while I was preparing dinner (and snacking on avocado, cheese, carrot, ham, etc.) and drinking water. In the beginning, it made a little sense that I was experiencing contractions at that moment (empty stomach, a while since I'd hydrated myself, etc.), but they didn't change after having 2 (16 oz) glasses of water and plenty of dinner. So far in this pregnancy, two-minute-apart contractions are not something I have experienced yet (at least that I have noticed).

My usual pregnancy/labor contractions are not very "regular" in the truest sense. Generally, the only way I have "regular" contractions is by grouping them in a window (say, 3-5 minutes apart), but last night, they were right. on. the dot. As one would start, I'd look at the clock on the stove and, sure enough, 2 minutes had gone by. I would feel another one coming on and could be certain that if I looked up again, I would see another even number.

After eating dinner, cleaning up and putting the girls to bed, Case and I sat down for the next few hours and checked e-mail and read up on a few things. I had another couple (16 oz) glasses of water. Yet the contractions did not budge a bit.

By 11:30, Case had gone to bed. I was still contracting, and not in a going-to-bed mood, as they were still very close and I didn't think I could sleep until they either slowed or calmed down, intensity-wise (not that most of them were intense--once-in-a-while I would feel a distinct down-low "opening" feeling at the contraction's peak, but otherwise, they were just noticeable, with a discernable start, peak, and decline).

So, I drew a bath, had another glass of water and a snack, and had a very short let-up timing-wise: Two contractions were 5 min. apart (about 30 seconds long), but then the next one was 4 min. (30 seconds again), the next 3 (45 seconds), and after those 4 contractions, they settled back into 2 min apart again, 45-50 seconds long for the duration of the bath. Around 12:40, I decided that I had exhausted all the things I could think of to slow/stop contractions, and I lay down to try to get some sleep.

It was a little difficult to fall asleep, as I could feel my belly dig into the mattress (I was on my side) every couple minutes. Hard to get past the distraction of my body working while I wanted to sleep. However, it wasn't more than 20 minutes before I was able to drift off, and they did not wake me through the night. In the morning, I awoke to contractions 15 minutes apart, and that was a good discovery.

Today was very busy, and I didn't notice another pattern of close-together contractions, so that is encouraging. It is not that I worry about these episodes--this is how my body gears up for giving birth. This kind of thing is nothing new to my pregnancies, and I haven't yet had the fear that I'm in pre-term labor.

This is the irony of my body doing automatically what my mind would never choose to do: if it were up to my mind, I don't believe I would have even one contraction until birth day. I am a procrastinator and have never been very motivated to practice or even begin something until it is just about due, be it a writing assignment or a baby's birth!

So, it is not that I worry when this kind of thing happens. However, having too many spells like this can have a frustrating effect, so I am grateful that today was not a continuation of yesterday's weirdness. This pregnancy, I am purposing to have a better attitude, should that kind of thing happen. My tendency is to become annoyed, and I want to instead welcome whatever happens, and follow Philippians 2:14 better by not grumbling or disputing. I did this too much with my second pregnancy, and fell into complaining about seemingly needless contractions now and then with my 3rd as well. So, this time even more, I'd like to be really mindful of my mental/emotional state within the physical state of unexplainable contractions and remain postitive.

Contraction at 12 Weeks

Early on in my four pregnancies, I always intend to take pictures of my very small uterus showing itself as I lay on my back. I think I may have accomplished this with Ruby, my first pregnancy, but otherwise, the weeks come and go with me thinking first thing in the morning, "I wish I had the camera right now." I have a few things to thank for this fascinatingly obvious baby bump (it's all uterus) so early on: 1) It is morning, and my bladder is full and 2) I am having a contraction.

I finally brought the camera by my bedside so I could take this pic in the morning, because it had been several weeks that my pregnancy was noticeable in this posture (as opposed to the other weeks--er--months that standing up, I have a belly, but it is most definitely mine).

Contractions started with this pregnancy toward the end of my sixth week. About the same time as they did last pregnancy. My latest-arriving Braxton-Hicks (B.H.) were with my second pregnancy, at about 14 weeks. They arrived before 12 weeks with my first, but I didn't take note of exactly when, because I didn't know it was "not supposed to happen." (Or, by many professionals, "DOESN'T happen." Ha! Where do they get this stuff?)

Differences with this pregnancy include that my B.H. have been ever-present, yes, but not incredibly bothersome. I can tell when I'm having one, but it doesn't usually hurt (annoying at times, yes). And I have only had a few truly "crampy" days, when the contractions felt menstrual-like and late-labor-ish. These days were clustered right around the time the contractions presented: at six and seven weeks. Another nice thing is that I have not spotted once in this pregnancy, and that is a first. Something for which I'm very grateful is the fact that my back does not constantly ache like it did even from the first weeks of my last pregnancy. I have a strong suspicion that the reason is that my abdominal muscles are stronger than they were in that pregnancy, since I had a few extra months "postpartum" to get back into shape (not that I did such a thing). It has been nice to not awaken to an already-aching back.

I am now almost 15 weeks into this journey. Not sure why, but my "first trimester" is extending into the second in the nausea/exhaustion department. Perhaps it is because my family and I have been battling sickness for over a month now (colds and whatnot). Maybe my body is trying to fight off/get better so much that it has no time to tend to other issues, like paying attention to what week it is :). The worst of it was the combination of nausea/gagging and profuse drainage (I know, TMI, but this whole post is pretty much TMI, so if you've gotten this far, are you actually surprised?). Drainage is no fun anyway, but I would not wish it on a first-trimester woman I didn't like.

Smells. . . in the first trimester, these can be very tricky to deal with. Not just bad ones, but overly "good" ones can be so sickening. My friend recently told me how she got sick of the smell of lavender after making a bunch of sachets as gifts during her first trimester. This pregnancy, the worst "good" smell has got to be our fabric softener. It makes me gag. I've noticed that I'll choose my or my children's clothing for the day based on the fact that it's not fresh out of the laundry, which is a challenge, since nowadays I do not have much in the way of clothing options, and almost all my options have been recently washed.

On to brighter things: despite how it looks in the above photo, I am still able to sleep on my stomach, and I am drinking up the nights where I still have every option open to me: Left side? yes. Right side? Well, okay. Back? Indeed. Stomach? Oh, yes, please! It has to be annoying for anyone who likes all their options--pregnancy is a sacrifice of comfort in many areas. I remember in my past postpartum recoveries, being more than happy to lie on my tummy to help the involution of my uterus (Here's a bonus tidbit: my home-birth midwives do not mash on my stomach after delivery. They take the far-gentler approach of assigning sessions of tummy-lying in the days after birth, for which I am grateful, because tummy-mashing hurts like the dickens.) My stomach-sleeping window is closing quickly. I will miss you, my comfortable friend, but look forward to when we will meet again in 6 months!

Okay, since I'm getting all my frivolous little complaints out there, I will also mention a question that has perplexed me for the last 3 pregnancies. No, not, "Why does my body have to gain weight there when I'm pregnant?" (Seriously, what do those parts have to do with carrying a baby?). The question of "Why, if I will not be giving birth for the next six months, does my pelvis have to get all loosey-goosey now?"

I would say it happened overnight, because that is how suddenly it came on, but it was even more suddenly. At 13 weeks, 2 days, I sat down to rest one afternoon and got up with that "splitting chicken" feeling, and it has been with me ever since. I do not have to describe this to most pregnant women, I'm sure, especially ones who have had more than one baby, but for those who have yet to experience this, picture for a moment that you have no legs, and someone has attached ropes to the bottom of your hip bones, and has given these ropes to opposing teams in a tug-of-war match.

That is the feeling to which I refer, and it limits one's ability to move about as lightly and gracefully as she once did (Mmm-hmm:). Small things become extremely painful. Have you ever used your foot/leg to scoot something that was a little too heavy to lift? That's out. Big steps? That's out. Letting your toddler sit on your foot and gallop away on her horsey? Definitely out. Walking like a normal person? That's out. (But try to anyway, so people won't laugh at you.)

I'm getting all my "pregnancy" stuff out in this post. Haley is still nursing, but quickly losing interest. I cannot say I am disappointed. Ruby's (understandably, my first) pregnancy is the only one in which I have not nursed for at least some time. (I have logged in about a year's worth of nursing-while-prego at this writing.)

Many people think you can't or shouldn't nurse while pregnant. It isn't so much that you can't as much as it isn't very appealing to the mom-to-be to have all this stuff going on inside her body and to also then subject her body to more "abuse" on the outside. But, since my children have all been relatively young when I have gotten prego again, I have not felt right about weaning them. So, they nurse until they are no longer interested. (And that has never been five years so far--thankfully!)

Haley is now almost 20 months, which is exciting to me, because I've never nursed a baby so long before! Ruby quit around 14 months and Claire was about 16-17 months. Ruby was my earliest to wean, but, because of her closeness to Claire, was the one who nursed the farthest into pregnancy--six months. I was glad when she decided she was done, because I was getting tired of being kicked from the outside and the inside at the same time. I was caught in the middle of already-developing sibling rivalry, and more than happy to be rid of the whole business. Claire nursed the shortest time into pregnancy, at about 2-3 months. That was also welcome, because the first trimester demands so much of a body anyway . . .

So, whenever Haley is ready to give it up, I will sigh with relief and a sweet sadness of that phase with her passing, but no real grief. Breastfeeding is a blessing, and I absolutely would not consider not doing it, but there are many things about it that I do not miss when it is over. I've mentioned before that I am not one of those who just loves breastfeeding (except the fact that God is so good to make such a wonderful system of nourishing a baby--I am thankful for His provision in this), and though I am committed to it as long as my babies are interested, I am NOT a big fan of breastfeeding, personally. It is great, and it is best, and I do . . . not. . . like it.

Casey and I are getting more and more used to the idea of having four little pairs of pitter-pattering feet, and I would have to say that even though I would not describe myself as "excited" in the truest sense, I am very happy and okay with the idea of welcoming another child, and plan toward it and think of it often.

I am excited about the birth of this baby, and that probably makes me a real weirdo among women, but I can truly say that. Birth is something wonderful and special and though it happens all the time all over the world, I will only do it a select amount of times, and I am so glad I get to do it again! I can't hardly wait to see how this labor and birth will go. Very exciting!

Baby Born to Exhausted, but Happy Mama!

A while back, I asked a woman I'll call Elle if she would write out her birth story for my blog. I had been inspired by what little details I knew of her long and wonderful labor, and wanted to share another positive, hopeful prodromal birth story with my readers (i.e., prodromal birth is totally doable!).

I should mention that this woman and her husband had several things going for them, which contributed to her joyous completion of several days of labor with no pain meds and little intervention! Ladies, if she can do it (not a self-proclaimed "tough" person), you can, too! Elle and her hubby had taken thorough classes from an independent teacher (not a hospital--perhaps some day I will post on why this is important) that gave them many good tools for handling the labor she experienced. She had also chosen a midwife for her care, and I have to say, I was impressed that the medical staff encouraged her to go home several times, and that she was smart enough to do it!

Read on for a truly inspiring prodromal birth story! Oh, and of course, I LOVE how she starts it. Isn't that the truth about prodromal labor?!
___________________________________________________
“I’m not sure when I would say that I “went into labor.” I started having contractions on and off as early as 4 months pregnant. Sometimes I would have them for an hour or two coming as quickly as a couple minutes apart, but then they would stop. About two weeks before my due date, I decided to have my midwife check to see if I was dilated and I was 3cm dilated and 80% effaced and the baby’s head was at 0 station in my pelvis.

"Three days before I had the baby, I started having contractions again around 7PM. I was excited and hoping the contractions would stay this time, so I decided to march around the room to see if they would get stronger. The contractions started to get stronger and closer together, sometimes lasting a minute long and being about 3-4 mins apart. I knew I wanted to try to labor as long as I could at home before I went to the hospital, so I kept watching for the Emotional Sign Posts that we learned in Bradley Class. I still felt like I could pretty much talk through the contractions, so I knew I still had time. That night I woke up on and off with contractions.

"At one point I couldn’t sleep, more out of excitement that my contractions were lasting all night, and I decided to march around the living room some more. Our cats came down and sat on the stairs and watched me like I was crazy. The next day we decided to call my midwife to let her know I was still having contractions every 3-4 min and they were lasting about a minute each. Even though I didn’t feel like it was time yet, they asked me to come in to just be checked and see where I was at. I was about 4 cm dilated now. The midwife told me to go home and get in the bath tub to help me relax and let my body work. I was hungry though and we decided to stop at a local pizza place across the street from her office.

"We started out at a booth inside, but I was so hot from all the contractions I had to go outside in the winter air and cool off. So we ended up being the only people out on the patio. My husband said the people inside were watching and sort of smiling but concerned at the same time as he had to keep getting up and rubbing my back through the contractions. I got about half my slice down and then I just knew I had to get home so I could really relax. My husband ran inside and grabbed a box for the pizza and we took off.

"We ended up going to my mom’s house, which was a little closer to the hospital. The bath felt so good that I ended up staying in it for about 4 hours while my husband and mom took turns rubbing my back through each contraction. My contractions were just as strong and close together as earlier, but the water seemed to lighten the pressure from my back labor a bit. It also helped me rest and conserve some energy for later. Around 5 p.m., my family thought I should check in to the hospital. I didn’t really feel like it was time yet, but I agreed to go since I couldn’t talk during contractions anymore and I figured it must be soon.

"We stopped at a health food store for some popsicles and honey sticks. I had about two more contractions as I hurried through the store to get what I wanted. Then we met my dad who was just getting off work at a burger place to get some food for everyone. I was the one who wanted to go get food, but I ended up regretting the choice and just wanted to leave. We made it to the hospital around 6 p.m. and the midwife on call checked me and I was still only about 4-5 cm dilated and my contractions seemed to slow down a little while I was there. Both sides of the family had come to the hospital and now I was feeling bad like I needed to do something for them. We tried to walk around and see if they would pick up again, but they were only about 6 mins apart now.

"The midwife knew I wanted to try going natural so she said the best thing for me would be to go home and try to get some sleep so I would have energy in the morning to have the baby. So we ended up back at my mom’s house to spend the night. I’m not sure I got any sleep that night as my contractions started to get really strong and close together.

"At 4 a.m., I got back in the tub and my husband would “wake up” every 4 minutes and rub my back or feet. I’m not sure he really was awake: he started to fall into the tub once as he was rubbing my back! I stayed in the tub most of the morning so I could try to rest between the contractions to make up for the missed sleep the night before.

"About 10 a.m., we went outside in front of my mom’s house and walked around a bit. My contractions were getting very strong so we decided to call our midwife again. They were booked at the office, but were able to squeeze me in with one of the OBGYNs to see where I was at before we drove all the way downtown. I was now a good 5, maybe 6 cm and the OBGYN said he thought I would probably have the baby that night or early the next morning. He told me to go get something to eat and go check in the hospital whenever I felt ready.

"We decided to go back to my mom’s house one more time. I have low blood sugar, so I knew I wanted to get as much protein and energy in before I went to the hospital, where they have you stay on a liquid diet during labor. I went to lie down and read a Psalm as I tried to stay relaxed while my husband, mom and sister all ran around the kitchen trying to find foods that would be good for me. I could hear the excitement in their voices and sort of resented the fact that they were excited. I’m pretty hospital-phobic and by now I was starting to feel like it was too much for my body, I just felt like crying. But I was encouraged and reminded that God was going to give me strength.

"By the time they brought me food (around 4 p.m.) I knew it was time to go. I was in the serious stage sign post and I really wasn’t in the mood to eat, although I did force myself to eat a little since I knew I would have a blood sugar crash from not eating dinner. My mom drove us so that my husband could stay in the back and help me through contractions.

"We arrived at the hospital around 5 p.m. We checked into Triage where they got my IV ready for the antibiotic to kill the GBS [Group B Strep] that I had (which my husband and I now sort of regret accepting). The first IV the young nurse accidentally “Blew up my vein” she told me—a needle/blood-phobic person. My husband sort of whispered to her and told her not to talk out loud about it and tried to get her to fix it without letting me hear details so that I wouldn’t panic. Another girl came in to take a blood sample and then the young nurse came back and tried the IV again. My mom thought it looked funny and it felt weird to me, but the nurse assured us that it was right.

"She took us to our birthing room where I saw the most beautiful tub I’ve ever seen! I wanted to get in there right away, but the nurses wanted to get a dose of antibiotic in first. My mom and husband saw the little bed with the baby hat and blanket in it and were almost in tears with excitement that our baby would soon be here! I was excited too, but at that moment I just couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t think about anything else besides relaxing through the contractions.
"Well, it ended up that the IV wasn’t even in a vein and after almost getting a full bag of antibiotic fluids, we realized it was just going into my arm. My arm swelled to double its size and I realized I was trying to take deep relaxing breaths not for the contractions but because my arm was killing me. They brought in a good nurse who took out the bad IV. My veins were really constricted now so it took her two tries before she got a good one in. I was so thankful once the IV was in and it didn’t hurt anymore! I think the whole IV fiasco slowed me down a little, but they let me get into the wonderful tub and I stayed in there for quite awhile. I think I would have stayed there forever if they would have let me, but they encouraged me to try to get out for a little bit and move around to see if things would go faster.

"I loved the nurse and midwife I had that night! They just sat there with us in silence and let us relax. The midwife would rub my back or head to help me relax. Every once in a while she would give me suggestions for different laboring positions. I don’t really remember time periods anymore, but I know about 10 p.m., the midwife came in and checked me and I was about 7 cm dilated. She could tell I was getting really tired. She asked us if we would want her to break my bag of waters. At first I didn’t like that idea at all and wanted to experience it breaking on its own, but my husband and I talked and prayed and decided it would be good. So at around 10:30 p.m., they broke my water.

"Right away, I went into transition. I felt like I was on some kind of weird ride. It felt good to have the warm water empty out with each contraction, but it was also strange to feel so out of control of my body. I remember holding on to the bar of the bed and almost feeling like I was on some kind of swaying ship. I threw up once, but then felt fine in my stomach.

"Probably about an hour later I had an urge to push. I told the midwife and she checked me and said I was about 7-8 cm. She told me to make some grunting noises as if I was pushing to keep me from really pushing. It felt like only seconds later that I was telling them that my body was pushing and I didn’t know how to stop it.

"The midwife, who was about to leave, ran back to me and checked and said I was almost at 10cm. She told me I could start pushing with the contractions gently. Pushing felt so wonderful! My husband later told me he was sympathy pushing with me. :o) The midwife used her hand to help the cervix gently come over the baby’s head so that it didn’t tear. It felt a lot better once her head was past that point.

"The midwife asked me if I thought I could get up and sit on the toilet for awhile to push. I stayed there for about 3-4 contractions. We tried some squatting too, but after a little bit I was too tired and they had me sit up in the bed. They gave me some oxygen between pushes for extra energy. They also brought in the mirror for me so I could see my baby as she was crowning.

"I reached down and felt her head and saw the first little glimpses of her! They asked my husband if he would like to catch our baby. He looked a little unsure, but decided to do it. They told him to go wash up and get gloves on and right as he left the bed to do that I felt another pushing contraction and was a little worried he was going to miss it! But I still had a few to go.

"During the pushes I couldn’t seem to talk or look at anything. I felt this amazing rush of all my energy go into each push. At one point I tried to look as I pushed, but everything went black. I wasn’t scared though. It just felt so powerful and amazing! Birth really is such a miracle! After about an hour of pushing and 54 total hours of labor, our little girl was born at 1:05 AM January 16th, 2009. They placed her on my stomach and I looked down at her and she opened her eyes and looked up at me. It was love at first sight!"

Haley Kay's Birth Story, Part 5 (and FINAL!!)

The midwives tried to get situated between my contractions, pausing and not asking anything of me or Casey during contractions. Aimee sat on the floor next to me, waiting for a moment between contractions to check the baby’s heartbeat with the Doppler, while Barb (kneeling, using the bed as her desk) observed my behavior and took notes. I was in transition during the videos here, as well as the video on the last post. For about 30 minutes or so, the contractions were so overpowering and strong. The best way I can describe what it was like is that it felt like a very dark and heavy cloud of seriousness would descend on me as a contraction began. I would remain in that dark cloud for a minute or so, all other thoughts overshadowed by the intense sensations I was feeling. Then, as the contraction began to subside, it was if the cloud lifted and I was “me” again. I could talk, smile, whatever. {I point this out because women labor differently and I had heard that if a woman smiles, she’s not very far along in labor. This is just my way of saying: when you hear things like this, consider who you are and what you are like. That plays a great part in what your labor will look like. Though in general the emotional signposts are more accurate at gauging labor progress than something like how far apart contractions are or how dilated the cervix is, emotional signposts are not always very accurate, either; especially if you adjust quickly to change, are self-conscious or have a tendency to downplay what you are feeling.}

Casey left my side for a moment as Aimee started to check the baby’s heart rate. A severe contraction began and I suddenly needed Casey with me. I told him so and he came to me, knelt beside/behind me and supported me as I relaxed. Aimee stopped looking for baby’s heart, backed off and she and Barb sat in respectful silence as Casey held me through this forceful contraction. As it subsided, he prayed, whispering in my ear as we sat there together, alone in this moment of intensity. I don’t remember what he said, just that it was wonderful to have all those components together: my midwives present and watchful, everything in order, labor progressing beautifully (as obvious by the strength of the contractions), my husband very near and literally supportive to me and the mental corralling of my thoughts as he acknowledged God’s hand on this birth and this baby, asking His blessing on both. I was overwhelmed from the awe of birthing with all of these important pieces together. Words cannot describe my state of elation while smack-dab in the very “worst” of labor! It was wonderful.

I felt great (in comparison) between contractions and though they were the most intense ones in the labor, they were still doable because there were breaks. Casey gave me the third and final dose of herbs and vitamins, and I downed the Emergen-C much too quickly. Even though it was less than 4 ounces of liquid, I should have known better than to down it that fast at this stage of labor. (I find it funny that even when I’ve learned something by experience, it doesn’t mean I “know” it so well that I remember it at the time it would serve me well to remember it. I downed liquid too fast in Ruby’s labor and paid for it, and if you asked me a few big things I learned to do or not to do from that labor, the wisdom of sipping—not drinking—water that late in labor would have surely made the list. This is precisely why I believe one cannot be too educated or prepared for any labor—even the third! There will always be things that one reads—or in this case, knows by experience—that will escape one’s mind when in the heat of labor.)

Soon after this, we got on the subject of the woman (Dolly) who was in labor with me when I had Claire, who was due in a couple weeks. She lives south of us, and as soon as I had learned she was also expecting again, I began joking that we’d need to arrange a day to have our babies back-to-back so Barb only had to take one trip south. Within less than 30 minutes of Barb’s arrival to our home, Dolly and another woman called to say they were in labor! Apparently, today was the day, and we got the memo first. I didn’t feel guilty. We don’t ask much of Barb on labor day; just basically to get there in time to catch the baby. So these two women could hold off, I thought. (Really, though. It wasn’t like they were about to deliver or anything. We had time, and Barb wasn’t rushing.)


We got through a few more contractions as I knelt by the bed, assuring Barb that my knees weren’t sore yet and it felt best to be there. Sandy had brought the girls upstairs and put them down for their naps just as the midwives arrived, and Claire wasn’t too happy about it, as is noticeable in the background noise of the video. It was beginning to take longer to come out of the haze and recover from a contraction, and I became more vocal; “sounding” through them again. We were back on track after all the hoopla of the midwives arrival.
Between a couple transition contractions, I began to feel more nauseated, and Casey fetched a trash can. No sooner than he gave it to me, I threw up a few times. This was not so bad. I felt fine after it was over. The only bad thing I remember about it was thinking now my breath was going to stink. I knew it would affect my relaxation (same reason I took a shower earlier). I am very self-conscious, and things like this and modesty don’t necessarily go away totally (I have to make a conscious decision to not think or worry about these things—even at the very end) like they say they will at some point in labor (again, it depends on who you are). A little while later, I mentioned my concern, and Barb gave me a little mint so I could breathe through my mouth if I needed to.

I asked Barb to check me to see if things really had progressed as I thought. She checked me between contractions and said I was complete. As much as my tailbone had protested, I eventually made it onto the bed in the “frog-in-the-lounge-chair” position we’d used in Claire’s labor, (legs bent slightly, widely splayed and resting on Casey’s legs) Casey behind me, supporting me, whispering words of encouragement to me, stroking my arms. Strangely enough, this was not excruciating like lying down had been. But even so, I was not ready to push. I believe the broken tailbone had more mental ramifications than physical at this point, and though I wasn’t consciously thinking “I don’t want to hurt my tailbone more,” I must have had it in the back of my mind, because I was not ready to engage in the labor the way I needed to, now that I was nearing the end.

I kept my eyes closed more and though I still talked now and then between contractions, I stayed serious and relaxed, and it was obvious when one was starting to get going, because I would suddenly start breathing very deeply and “Oooh!” ing or “Uuh!”ing as I exhaled. It was easy with these sounds to get a little too high-pitched as time went on and Barb would remind me to “keep it low” so my voice would help my body push down instead of tensing up. I kept asking the ladies if it was okay that I didn’t want to push yet. We made it through a dozen or more contractions with me just breathing through them, letting my body do what it needed to do. Aimee encouraged me that she could tell my contractions alone were pushing strongly: I was staying “open” between contractions. The baby was on its way whether I pushed or not! Somewhere in here, I was in the middle of one of these strong contractions when I heard the musical chime of our dryer downstairs and thought, "Laundry's done." I mentally shook myself and lassoed my thoughts back to the task at hand. My mind was no longer interested in what my body was doing. I bring this up, because this is how I am in everyday life: extremely sidetracked. Some people talk of being totally into the task of labor at the exclusion of everything else, and I have yet to labor that way. I really have to work to stay focused.

Suddenly, my body took over and started to push on its own. I grunted and that was the end of ladylike behavior. (Oh, wait; who am I kidding?) I have never been great at the whole “chin to chest” pushing thing. It just doesn’t feel right to me; especially in this case. My position wasn’t optimum for several reasons: I was slouched down a little too much (probably because of my tailbone) and didn’t feel like I could breathe well without throwing my head back. I still had a dry/scratchy throat from the cold I’d had a month before. My voice would catch, and when I pushed, my grunting sounded like machine gun bursts and I found it super annoying that I couldn’t just grunt one long, smooth grunt. We also had several pillows between Casey and I, and he couldn’t see much over the pillows (nor can I see much of his face in the video), which bothers me still (especially for the actual birth). I would have gladly resituated, even between those contractions, if I had known at the time.

The contractions were extremely forceful and this is where the music and the moment collided. There was a particularly intense piece of classical music playing at the height of one of these contractions (the video clip at the beginning of this post gives a little idea of what I’m talking about, only it was more annoying than that, if you can imagine). High-pitched violin screeching was not helpful in that particular set of seconds and I think I could have jumped out of bed and flown to the television and smashed it through the wall if I didn’t think my pelvis just might not come with me. Immediately after the peak, I said I couldn’t really handle the music and asked them to turn it down. At the time, I didn’t think it was funny, but now I do: Barb was the one who got up to turn off the music, only Barb was the only person in the room who is, shall we say, the least technically savvy, so it took her FOR-E-VER to figure out what button to push, and it seemed like an eternity before the horrid sounds were gone. I really was about to volunteer to do it myself by the time she figured out how to make it stop.

Anyway, there I was, pushing. I would lay completely relaxed with my head turned to the side (I could breathe better that way, believe it or not) until a contraction started, align my head with my body, grunt and bear down with all I had in me. Aimee was at the foot of the bed, Barb to the left of me observing/taking notes. The amniotic sac broke during a crazy contraction and the burst of liquid traveled a few feet, but missed Aimee (who was waiting for such an occurrence). There was an extremely short break, (perhaps a few seconds) and I smiled, but that immediately changed, because I then said, “Oooh, goodness. This is very intense!”

Contractions had changed since the sac had broken, and I began to feel as if my baby would explode out of me. “Oh, WOW! I think I need somebody right there,” I told them. I felt too vulnerable and that the baby would burst out and hit the wall ten feet away if someone wasn’t there to stop it. Aimee came to stretch the perineum and Barb said something encouraging. Aimee sat at the foot of the bed, and that’s what I really needed. If she believed I would explode, she would not have sat a foot away from me. It was comforting to know it just felt like I would explode, it wasn’t reality. However, Aimee is an apprentice. I felt saf-er, but not exactly the saf-est. I asked Barb to come to my side. I needed to know that I wasn’t a grenade, and I needed Barb to be near me to assure me that she wasn’t afraid of me, either.

Barb sat on the side of the bed and touched my arm, and Aimee warmed and rubbed my cold feet between contractions. I was having a difficult time relaxing between contractions, and would have to consciously tell myself to relax my facial muscles. Even Barb reminded me at times, by silently placing a finger on my furrowed brow. I asked if it was getting hot in here, and Barb motioned to Case to grab the washcloth. It was heavenly and refreshing on my forehead. They spoke quietly and encouragingly. Barb took the washcloth and spun it around in the air to cool it off, then laid it on my chest and brushed it across my neck. That felt amazing.

I was having a hard time relaxing my legs. Aimee rolled up two towels and put them under each knee, and it really helped. I thanked Barb and Aimee for some encouragement they’d given, and they cranked it up a notch when they realized it was just what I needed, verbalizing what was happening and reminding me to “keep it low.” Casey took the cue and said some more encouragy, coachy things, too. “Good job. Down low.”

Haley’s head was crowning and though it only took a little over two minutes, it seemed like the longest head on earth. I kept thinking, “Is that seriously still the head?” Anyway, right before the “ring of fire” (which Casey says really “doesn’t sound too bad”—HA!), Aimee and Barb were distracted with something for the delivery and I exclaimed, “Ow. OW.”“Help me, help me, help me, help me. PLEASE HELP ME!” as Barb said calmly, “Laaaaauts a pressure.”

I squealed, “OOOOWWW!” and immediately knew that wasn’t helping, so I pushed it down a few octaves and grunted: “Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Lrd. Pls!” (It really sounds like I cut out the vowels in the video.) Barb was coaching Aimee in supporting my perineum, all the while calmly coaching my out-of-controlness.

We had a little exchange that went like this:
Me:“Okay, Okay. Ooo-Kay. That really, really, REALLY hurts! (high-pitched, and then back low again): Really hurts. Really. Huuuurts. Oooooooohhhhhhh. . . ”
Barb:“Good. Good. Grunt through it. Grunt through it. There you go. Push your baby down, push, push, push. . .”
Me (in my lowest, gruntiest, robotic voice): “I’m afraid to push!”
Barb: “Goooow ahead.”
Me (sounding very much like Grover): “MMMM!”
Barb: “Little pushes.”
Me: “MMMMM!”
Barb: “Down here.”
Me (higher and higher pitched): “MMMM! MMMM! MMMMM!”
Barb: “Keep it coming. Good job. There you go. Nice work. Push your baby’s head out. Gentle, gentle, beautiful, beautiful.”

There was a lot of “Ow” and “That kills!” as they worked a nuchal cord (meaning wrapped once around the neck) over her head. (Not a comfortable procedure, I won’t lie.)

All at once, Haley’s head and body were born. I had turned my head to the side, (I think I was trying to get away from what was going on) and happened to look back over and was a little stunned to see her all the way out, because, after all, her head was still crowning a second ago. After realizing she was born, I reached down and Aimee and Barb lifted her to me. I immediately brought her to my chest, and Casey and I gasped and he cried, “Oh, the baby!” which made me cry, all before she did! It was 4:24 p.m.; 12 hours since that first very strong contraction. Haley “mewed” a few times, which just tickled us to death. The midwives put a towel over us and after a few seconds, we checked and she was a girl! Her heart rate was a little slow, so they gave me the oxygen mask to hold near her for a few minutes until she pinked up and was not so quiet. We named her Haley Kay immediately and I could not believe how much vernix was on her! She was totally coated in it. White all over. Chunks, even. I’ve never seen that much vernix on a premature baby! Barb suspected she may have breathed some in and that was why her respiration had dropped off a little. We discussed our guesses of her weight. She looked so tiny to me. Claire had had such a fat face and looked like she weighed 11 pounds, but Haley’s face was slim, and she didn’t have the chunky upper body that Claire did, so I was sure she couldn’t be even 8 pounds. Turns out she was 8 lbs, 2 ½ oz and 20 ¾ inches long.

(This was after a good hour or more, with most of the vernix rubbed in/worn off.)
We called out that we had a baby, and after awhile, Sandy came upstairs to ask what the baby was. I nursed Haley and she latched on strongly and just went to town. After the cord stopped pulsing, it was cut. I don’t think the afterbirth contractions were nearly as bad as they were with Claire. They were strong, but not excruciating. I got off the bed and knelt over the chux that Case had thrown a couple hours earlier to try to have gravity help deliver the placenta, and it eventually came out. Barb was pretty tenacious about checking my bleeding and keeping tabs on me. I hopped in the shower, and I swear I could not get some of that vernix off of my belly, where Haley lay for those first few minutes. It was like car wax! Every minute or so, Barb would pop in to see how I was and give me a sip of my Recharge to keep me from passing out. I think it concerned her that I was standing up, since I have had trouble with low blood sugar after delivery. I felt so great. After I was clean, I wrapped my baby girl and me in my robe and reclined on the bed as Sandy brought Ruby and Claire to join us for Haley’s newborn check. They were so excited to see and hold their little sister. I kept hydrated and took a little of the herbal injury/trauma tincture I had by the bed. A friend of mine came to see us. We got lots of pictures and our little growing family hung out on the bed, looking at our little girl.

Haley and Auntie Chrissy

It was dinner time, and I was about to go downstairs and join the family like it was any other day (I really felt that good). Casey wouldn’t hear of it, and brought the beef stroganoff to me in bed. I was ravenous! Haley was so sweet and just looked around, mewing now and then. It was so precious. Barb and Aimee had to jet to the next birth (which happened to be Dolly. . . . on the same day! What are the odds?) and then the next, and, as it happened, the next! As Barb had said hours before, apparently, we started a trend. They were a couple of busy midwives catching 4 babies in three days, with no break in between. Boy, that’s a tough job. Glad I got them fresh this time!

Haley had alert eyes and was very quiet and serious. She made very small noises and just looked back at us as we stared at her. She had a stork bite birth mark on her left eyelid, which was pretty dark for the first couple days, and comes out again when she is really upset. For the first few nights, she slept in the bassinet by our bed and probably spent half the night in bed with us and would just barely make a peep and I would feed her. She was so sweet and contented; we thoroughly enjoyed our babymoon!

Recovery for me was great. I felt like I could do anything within a few minutes after giving birth, but Casey knows that does not speed recovery, so he had me in bed alot, and when I came downstairs over the next few days, he'd have me rest and sit and observe mostly. I had torn just slightly (like the knicks I had in Claire's labor, about 1/4 of an inch) and that was uncomfortable, but it had completely healed by the home visit Barb made at 5 days, so it was no big deal. Sandy and Case were there for several days and took care of all the household chores and cared for the older girls. I am so blessed to have such a helpful mom and mother-in-law! I have never had to deal with the mom who sits on the couch and holds the baby all day while I stand in the kitchen washing dishes or doing laundry. My relatives come to help, and I'm thankful! People from our church and the mom's group I went to brought us meals for the first few weeks. We hadn't had that with our other babies; it was nice for Sandy and Casey to not have to worry about one more thing. I was especially touched by the fact that one of the moms who had cancer signed up to bring me a meal. That she would think of serving others while in such a state (it was very bad, she passed away at the end of the summer) just blew me away. Though I only knew her for a few short months, she has left an indelible mark in my life. I think of her selflessness all the time (especially when I'm struggling, and it's nothing compared to what she went through).

In comparison, I would put Haley’s birth in between my other two girl’s births as far as doability. Not that any of them weren’t doable, but Ruby’s birth (my first) was an extremely difficult experience (not so much the labor, but the whole of the experience), and Claire’s was like a walk in the park. Haley’s wasn’t terrible (I’d say it was pretty great), but the actual delivery with the broken tailbone was no picnic. All in all though, the really extremely intense part only lasted a couple hours, and like I like to say about labor, you can do anything for a day, right?

A few random pics from the first week of Haley's life (in no particular order):

Haley's Birth Story, Part 4

Casey called Barb, who then asked to speak with me. I grabbed the phone. “Barb, Casey says they remind him of when we called you with Claire’s labor.” She asked me if I had checked myself lately. {Barb had encouraged me to check myself those last few weeks to see what was happening. Neither one of us wanted an “official” check. We really didn’t expect much to be happening, and Barb’s pretty hands-off about vaginal exams—even IN labor. (She’s experienced enough to know, based on a woman’s behavior, where her cervical progress may be.) So she asked me now and then what I had discovered. The whole thing was very new to me, and she thought it would be good for me to feel what exactly was going on down there. The few times I checked myself, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, and I ended up asking Aimee and then her to check me once “while they were there” swabbing for GBS at 37 weeks. Turns out my cervix was still so posterior at the time that it really didn’t matter how effaced or dilated it was. If any really serious change was happening, my cervix would not be so posterior.}

I told Barb I hadn’t checked myself at all today, and she suggested I do so right then and she’d call back in a few minutes. So I hung up, put the phone in my robe’s pocket, and quickly explained to Casey and Sandy. We have a bathroom downstairs, but I felt better about being upstairs to check. I think I might have been a little afraid of what I might find; being mentally impaired enough to not make it upstairs if I did find that her head was crowning or some such craziness. As I was just about to climb the stairs, another contraction started (2:11 p.m.). I started the stopwatch and pretty much ran up the stairs. I didn’t want to get stuck on the stairs, so I hurried to get to the bathroom, where I could rest, before the peak. Barb was going to call any minute, and I didn’t want to tell her, “Sorry, I haven’t even made it to the bathroom yet.” Looking back, I’m pretty sure that would have answered her question quite well! She would have known it was time to come even if I didn’t have a report for her. Ah, the silliness of labor-brain.

Waddling to the bathroom, I could hardly stand it anymore. I was not going to regain a relaxed state in this contraction; survival was all I was going for at this moment. I sat on the toilet and the contraction’s intensity was SO VERY OVERPOWERING that I had to lean waaaay back and figuratively hold on for dear life. I made a note on my contraction chart: Must lean back. (I picture Captain Chameleon in The Tick Versus the Idea Men: “CAN’T! DO! PLAID!”) The contraction lasted 2 minutes and 45 seconds and at least 2 minutes were experienced on the toilet—not a good position at this stage of labor, in my experience. When it was over, I hurried to check myself. Barb was surely going to call while I was checking! In what seemed like the same moment, I jumped up, washed my hands and the phone rang. I answered, shaky and nervous. “Barb, I don’t feel a cervix, but I think I feel the bag of water bulging.” (And yes, for any smart alecks, it WAS Barb on the phone!) I had felt what I would describe as a thin rubber band around a very pillowy huge squashy round thing. It freaked me out. I told Barb I wasn’t sure it was the BOW, but I couldn’t feel anything else, save the rubber band, and I thought it was probably the BOW. “I’m sorry if doesn’t turn out to be, but that’s what it feels like.”

Barb very calmly said if that’s what it feels like, then that’s probably what it is and they’d leave right away. I immediately ran downstairs and into the kitchen to tell Casey and his mom this was it. Casey told me “You need to be upstairs.” I told them since I had gotten a little scared and pitted out, I wanted to take a shower first. We hurried upstairs while Sandy stayed downstairs with the girls. It was 2:26 p.m. Casey got some video while I waited for the water to warm up in the shower. I had another contraction—one that I waited just till after the peak before resuming activity. I wasn’t where I wanted to be, and didn’t want to stop for long. I was sure that when I did stop, it would be for good. I mentioned in the video that I’d need to lie down soon. I had one more contraction while in the shower (2:34 p.m.). When I was finished, I began squeegeeing the shower until Casey reminded me that I was in labor and could leave it this time. One would guess from that detail that I am extremely anal! I'm really not that anal, I just constantly have to work at staying on task. Even when it comes to labor, I am so easily sidetracked!

Out of the shower, I quickly dried off, put on my contacts, some lip balm and my labor nighty. Casey stripped our bed and re-made it with a shower curtain and old sheets while I crawled around on the bathroom floor for the next two contractions (2:38 and 2:41 p.m.). I still had to move around, but couldn’t (or didn’t want to) stand anymore. I think it may have been because I didn’t know how long it would take Barb and Aimee to arrive (remember I still thought they were a good 45-60 minutes away) and didn’t know if we had that much time. I remember being taught and reading about “hands and knees” to slow things down, but I think there were additional reasons I did it: I was afraid my posterior-last-appointment-baby hadn’t yet turned and it felt best to be both moving and avoiding the effects of gravity while waiting for the midwives. (I did not feel comfortable delivering this baby without Barb.)

Casey finished the bed and gave me the go-ahead. He helped me get onto the bed and on my side, where I promptly had a doozie contraction (around 2:50 p.m.) and realized I could NOT lie down. Contractions became sharp and excruciating when I did, so Casey piled a huge amount of pillows on our bed and I got back on hands and knees, leaning over the mountain of pillows. After a few minutes, I felt a little too vulnerable up there on the bed. What if, in all my concentrating and hip-swaying, I fell off? So Casey threw a chux on the floor and I moved to kneeling at the bed, swaying my bottom from side to side. (In my mind, I was fiercely waiving it like a mad woman—possibly trying to get away from it—but it was not so accentuated in real life.) We hadn’t ever gotten to burning a C.D. of labor music selections (I kept getting paralyzed in choosing selections by wondering, “Am I going to find this song/music super annoying in labor?”), so we turned the T.V. onto a classical music channel, complete with picturesque and peaceful photography.

I had another contraction (2:55 p.m.—1 min. 15 sec.) as Casey videotaped for another minute, teasing me for continuing to time contractions. I smiled and said it was “something to do” while waiting for Barb and Aimee. It helped me stay focused on one contraction at a time. I had to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn’t freak out thinking too far ahead. I mentioned in the video that between even these contractions, I still felt “really great.” {I find it very refreshing that in three births now, rarely have I had a great deal of contractions so close together that I have absolutely no break in between (though I have to admit, my “false” labor with Claire was often painful no matter if I was having a contraction or not). These people who talk as if labor is one long, excruciating, 36-hour contraction must gloss over God’s mercy in this area. (Could it be they don’t notice the breaks or they even keep themselves from having breaks because they’re too tense and afraid?) I’m not saying labor is easy or pain-free. I guess I’d say it’s both LESS terrible and horrifying than you’ve heard and MORE work than you’ve ever thought possible—work to stay calm, work to relax muscles, work to keep focused, work to be attentive to your body, work to push your baby out . . . HARD WORK!}

Barb and Aimee arrived at 2:58 p.m. and I hung up my contraction-timing hat (as I did when Barb arrived at Claire’s labor) and began to take a more vulnerable role as a laboring woman. They would now take over as the “protectors” of labor—all I needed to do was concentrate on the task at hand. I find this transfer of responsibility very important for relaxation of mind and body at the end. I don’t know how women can purposely do unassisted birth. I need to focus entirely on the work of giving birth, and I have absolutely no room in my mind for also making sure that everything is okay. I happily give this to the birth attendant, and Barb’s knowledge, experience and peaceful manner are just what I need to get my job done.

For Part 5 (The Concusion!), click here

Haley's Birth Story, Part 3

We hung out downstairs as a family. Casey got some video that included a 2 minute, 45 second double-peaking contraction that I recall being very strong and difficult. Casey and I had talked about trying to get more video during this labor, partially because it would take some of the work out of trying to remember everything that happened, and also because it is really interesting for me to see my labors/births from an outsider’s perspective. I was struck by this in watching the precious little video we had of Claire’s labor day, and how I appeared—even to myself (who knew better)—like I wasn’t experiencing much discomfort, knowing that in reality for one of those contractions, I was mentally hanging on for dear life in sheer panic at that moment. This video segment was similar (though the contraction was much less of a doozie than that one recorded in Claire’s labor) in that I remember feeling like tossing Claire off my lap, snapping at Ruby to "just get the cookie cutters, for pity's sake!" and ripping off my robe for parts of the contraction(s). I was feeling very peeved and annoyed at the fact that Claire was not only on my lap, pinning me to the floor (if she had not been, I would have immediately taken to all fours), but once I leaned back—er—to the side (tailbone)—to get away from her a little and give my belly room to harden and expand, she began rocking back and forth, trying to bounce off of my belly. Yet what I see transpire in that few minutes of video is me calmly talking with Ruby, leaning back and holding my hand in front of me so Claire can bounce against my hand instead of my belly, almost seeming like I’m playing a game with her. The reality was that here and there during the contraction, I was peeved and out-of-control (in my own mind). I wonder if other women have noticed feeling very different than how others observe them or what they see in their videos or pictures.

I have a theory as to why this happens (at least for me). It is imperative that my voluntary muscles remain relaxed during strong contractions, or they become much too painful to bear. If I begin to lose it emotionally and tense up, it is everything I can do to get through even one more second, and it is virtually impossible to regain a relaxed state until the contraction subsides. Therefore, though I may be irritated or upset, I refuse to give in to this derailment to relaxation. I think that is also one of the reasons why I don’t snap at my husband while in the heat of pain as is so commonly the labor “thing to do” (though I must admit a lot of it has to do with his not irritating me in the first place!). I truly don’t believe you can both be relaxed and scream in anger. Hmmm. Now if only I could get the same sense of urgency to stay on an even keel for every other day of my life. . .

Okay, back to the birth story! Since the “nap” that morning, contractions were anywhere from 12-32 minutes apart. When they came, they were so intense, but again I wasn’t sure about their intensity after a moment’s break. Around 10, after the last 2 contractions were a half-hour apart, I decided to stop timing altogether. I apologized to Casey for having him stay home, since it was apparent that labor wasn’t going anywhere soon, and may peter out altogether. We talked about the possibility of him going in to work after all, but he said they weren’t busy enough to really need him, and it was a long weekend already (being Memorial Day weekend and his Friday off)—he was happy to start it a day early even if I didn’t end up having the baby.

Sandy and Ruby left on their date to go to Wal-Mart somewhere around 11 while Casey, Claire and I napped in our bed. When contractions hit, I awoke, but could sleep between them. Barb called at 11:42 from her office to check on the contractions. I don’t really remember having the nap interrupted by her calls, so I’m not sure what the exact timing was, but caller ID says she called again at 12:19. I know by then I had given up on napping, because I answered that call in the office.

She was calling to say that she was going to her grandson's, but to call her cell if things got going. I somehow misunderstood what she said, because I had it in my mind that her son/grandson lived in the East Mountains. It was probably one word she said, like “I’m going to head up there” or something. So I thought she’d be a little ways away if we did end up needing her. (It turned out they live in the south part of ABQ, so she was actually closer than she would have been if she was at her office.) Anyway, this part is a little confusing to me now (as it was then), because I remember having a pretty restful nap, and fairly long (at least an hour), so I don’t have any idea what the timing was here.

As all labors are, this one was different than my other two in several ways. One of those differences is that for most of the day, contractions were overpowering if I was lying down and trying to relax (on my side: it had been a couple months since it felt “good” to lie on my back). I just could not handle their intensity. I really felt like I had to move during them to deal with the pain. A little strange from what I’m used to. Some of that may have had to do with my tailbone injury. Since the injury, even lying on my side was painful. Not as much as lying on my back, but it still put pressure on it. (The least painful position those first few weeks was standing.)

At some point (in the nap I believe), a monstrous contraction 3 or more minutes long made me want to get up and do something so my mind would be distracted from how strong the contractions were. I had found that morning that I coped with them better if I stood and swayed my hips from side to side or in circles. Another difference was that “sounding” was very helpful all day for the pain—not just at the end of labor (in my other labors I was pretty quiet during most of the hard contractions)—so there I was, walking around in between contractions, then stopping to lean on the counter, couch, whatever was near, and sway my hips, moaning or “huuuu. . .” -ing as I exhaled (like an audible sigh when you’re frustrated, only I wasn’t—it just felt better to make that patronizing sound) until it came to a peak, then resuming walking around after a breath of recovery. After waking from this nap, contractions were 10 minutes apart and as strong as they had been.

Claire awoke, and I went upstairs to get her before she woke Casey. One of us should get a good nap, I thought. Who knew when things would really get going and how long we’d be doing this? After a little while, Sandy and Ruby returned, and Sandy went to work preparing quesadillas for lunch. It was probably around 1 p.m. and I was getting pretty hungry. I really wasn’t at full mental capacity here (don’t know if I can remember when I last was!) and I remember talking to Sandy and wondering how she was going to make the quesadillas (why did it matter?), but at some point, she must have just done what seemed best to her, because I was soon eating one. (I tended to drift off mentally for contractions, and conversations would just trail off.)

Casey got up from his nap and came downstairs after we had finished, and ate his lunch while standing in the kitchen. I had resumed timing contractions at 1:05. After having one contraction, several more came but weren’t strong, so I didn’t count them and a ½ hour passed before another decent one came, so it really seemed like things were slowing down, even though in general they were still 10 min apart and around 1 min. 20 seconds duration. In hindsight, that half-hour break (probably around when we ate lunch, how handy :) was the calm before the storm.

I was sitting on the love seat, continuing to time contractions, Claire by my side. Sandy had stepped out of the room and Casey was doing some dishes. At 2:03, a contraction began that nearly knocked me out. I could tell from the get-go it was going to take everything I had. I took off my glasses and put them on my lap, threw my head back and just tried to BREATHE. Apparently, Claire grabbed my glasses and was putting them on (rather roughly—almost everything she does can be classified that way). Casey (from his perspective I was resting) saw her and thought she had Sandy’s glasses and started yelling (not quite): “Mom! Sarah! Mom! She’s got your glasses! Mom! She’s going to break them! Sarah! Take them away!” But I really couldn’t have cared less at that moment. It took everything in me—and more—to just stay conscious and breathing. After the peak, but while the contraction continued, I explained that I wasn’t ignoring him, I was just busy with a contraction. When Casey realized that I had heard him, but was that pre-occupied with a contraction, he said, “This reminds me of the end of Claire’s labor. You need to call Barb.” I told him I wanted him to call her. And a light bulb went on as we looked at each other. We knew things were getting intense.

For Part 4, click here

Haley's Birth Story, Part 2

Of one thing I was certain: I wouldn’t miss the birth of my own baby! Even though I had a history of not recognizing labor until well into it, I knew it was unlikely that I would remain unaware of labor ENTIRELY, and that, if the contractions I was having finally BECAME labor, at some point I’d be aware of that fact. I wasn’t concerned that I may not recognize “the real deal,” and it turns out that this time, I really didn’t have to be. Because one day, the contractions REALLY. CAUGHT. MY ATTENTION.

Thursday, May 22, 2008 (one day before “due” date): around 4:30 a.m. An extremely strong contraction upon waking made me eager to have it over with so I could run to the restroom and then get back to sleep. However, I kept having contractions that same strength once I got back into bed. After having 3 in 15-20 min. (that required my total concentration and relaxation to keep breathing and not be swallowed by their severe intensity, reaching out to Casey in silence as I struggled through the last one, not able to speak—I mean SERIOUS contractions!) I woke Casey to let him know what was going on. I told him the pain might be aggravated by nausea, and that I was going to get a snack and time contractions. He made sure that I would come back to bed soon, then went back to sleep.

So around 5 a.m., I went downstairs to get some yogurt and applesauce and had a cup of hot Chamomile tea (the "soothing," instead of the "toning,"--and possibly intensifying? I wasn't wanting to find out!--choice of teas). While snacking, I also posted a quick note to my blog that I wondered if I was in labor today. I also took some herbs for my GBS. (Supposed to take them every 4 hours starting at the onset of labor.)
In the time I was downstairs, contractions were 5-20 minutes apart lasting 1 – 2 minutes. Averaging out, they were 11 minutes apart, 90 seconds duration. (Not very neat: 8, 11, 13, 11, 20, 5, 8 min apart; 1:30, 1:30, 2:00, 1:00, 1:50, 1:20, 1:20 minutes long.) While walking around the kitchen, stopping for contractions, swaying and concentrating, I thought, “If this is how the textbook labor is supposed to start, I can see why women wouldn’t have trouble recognizing it.” They were SO STRONG from the get-go. Just about as intense as they got toward the end with my first 2 labors. So I had this thought about having NO doubt this was it, but then again, I felt absolutely fine between contractions and they were far enough apart (most of the day, in fact) to cause me to doubt their intensity until the next one started. I would doubt myself after only seconds had passed since a contraction, thinking my memory must be making them seem stronger than they really were.

I went back upstairs around 6:20 a.m. and tried to sleep, but the nausea hadn’t gone away (it didn’t the whole day) and I had 3 more contractions strong and evenly-spaced-enough in 40 min. to not get to sleep between them.

Finally, at 7:00, not being very successful at relaxing in my “sleep imitation,” I decided to pull out the big guns for labor and drew a bath in our beautifully deep garden tub. I added some lovely-smelling bubbles and began to review Dr. Bradley’s book, Husband-Coached Childbirth (not a must-read in my opinion, but I had just gotten it back the week before from my sis and since it had been awhile since I’d leafed through, I thought it might be interesting). I opened the blinds slightly to enjoy the natural light and discovered that it was drizzling outside. Ahh. . . what a relaxing day to labor! How peaceful to sink into a warm bath while watching the overcast sky and hear the rain fall gently against the window.

Ruby and Claire soon made their way into the bathroom (the morning tradition is to awake and come see Mommy) and, seeing me in the bubbly tub, asked to join me. I brought them in, but the water was so deep that they had to sit on my legs to keep their heads above water. They spent a good 15 minutes or so in the tub with me playing with the bubbles as we talked about the baby coming today, and then Sandy (MIL—she flew in from Portland 2 days before to help with the new baby) offered to take them and dress/feed them. Contractions were still very strong in the tub, but they spaced out a bit and it felt good to be in the warm water. I decided that I would not want to actually birth in the tub. It was hard to feel “grounded” in such a big place. I had to work hard to keep from slipping in completely. I don’t know how I would have pushed in there. It’s really important to me to be able to relax all my muscles, save the pushing ones, and I would have had to hold myself onto the side of the tub with my arms while trying to push. Too much work, I thought.

Anyway, a side (or bottom, as the case may be) issue comes up here and I must digress. The Thursday before, as my sister and her family were here, we were enjoying an evening playing Wii games. We were bowling and I stood up, took my turn, and backed up to the couch to sit. I didn’t look, and should have taken another step before plopping my heavy prego self on the couch, because I missed the cushion and landed extremely hard on the wood frame of the couch, breaking my tailbone. (Even 5 weeks after the fact, my tailbone was still sore and I had to sit carefully and after having sat any length of time I was very sore—especially driving, and finally, 9 weeks after the injury, I was able to sit in any position I so desired without discomfort.) As would be expected, this tailbone thing affected labor and birth. I don’t think I really have any idea how much so, since there is no way to go back and experience Haley’s birth without a tailbone injury.

So, exactly a week after the injury, in the tub, I find there are only a few positions that don’t hurt—even in the water. I need to kind-of sit on my hands to protect my tailbone or float along in a “push-up” position, belly down, my arms straight down to support me, or sit very much forward—not on my bottom at all—in order to not be in pain. The usual tub position is out of the question. I think this had to do with me nixing the tub-for-birth idea.

I stayed in the bath for at least an hour, timing contractions, reading, relaxing. When I got out, I put on my pretty pink labor nighty, which I had decided to get because I knew it would affect my outlook on the beauty of the day I brought my child into the world, as well as help me to relax when I looked down and saw something girly that acknowledged my extremely feminine state and not my husband’s dark shapeless t-shirt. And I knew it would make a better memory in my mind.

A pancake breakfast and some family time downstairs followed.

For most of the day, it really was boring in between contractions. Too much time between them to really hold onto how difficult they were, but too little time to rest or get something done. At 8:48 a.m., I called Barb to let her know I might be calling her to come today. I made sure to call immediately after a contraction, while I still felt absolutely certain these HAD to be labor contractions and before I started wondering again. If I waited too long between, it seemed silly to call at all. (What would I say? "Barb, I just wanted to give you a head's up that we might call you in the next few days?") "Here we go again," I thought.

For Part 3, click here

Haley's Birth Story, Part 1

In September of 2007, Casey and I found out we were expecting our third baby. Braxton Hicks presented crampy and strong at six weeks of pregnancy (the earliest so far) and instead of being afraid or annoyed, I embraced them as one of my best preparations for childbirth. After Claire’s easy-breezy birth, due partially to the fact that it felt like I had been in labor for a month (the other part having to do with a very challenging first birth experience which I was prepared to repeat), I decided to rejoice in how God made me and the things my body seems to deem necessary to get a baby born. I equate my body to an old car on a frosty morning: it takes several attempts to start—as well as some revving in those attempts—before a continued and lasting, no-going-back start is achieved.

From the last two births, I had had a mental list going on what I would like to do the same or differently. One of those "same" things was have a home birth. There is just no comparison to the atmosphere one encounters in a hospital versus home. So after some finagling, our wonderful midwife agreed to take us on as clients once again. She had planned to take the year off and do some traveling, but decided to take on a few clients within a specific window, and we were due in that time! She went to Africa for about 6 weeks during my second trimester. All went well with the pregnancy, and we did the usual and declined most of the tests, etc. throughout. Barb was very supportive. How the girls and I enjoyed those hour-plus appointments!

Casey and I are practical; we enjoy finding out the gender of our babies before birth day. Not having yet been with a home-birth midwife for an entire pregnancy, I asked Barb if she ever ordered ultrasounds and she said not unless there was a medical reason. (How funny that insurance companies won’t pay for ultrasounds except for a “medical” reason, yet I don’t know one woman birthing in a hospital nowadays—including me—who has not been offered at least 2 ultrasounds in her pregnancy.) I guess Barb is much more conservative than the average doctor or hospital midwife in what qualifies as a medical reason (i.e. not to “check dates” or “size” or whatever other reasons my ultrasounds have been for), and I respect her for it. But it was a little bummer that we’d have to wait to see what this baby was. We just don’t get the whole “What better surprise is there?” thing. It’s a surprise no matter what, right? So what if you find out early? It’s still a surprise at the time. And there’s still the surprise of “when,” unless you are inducing or scheduling a c-section, but I digress.

A few of the things on my list that I wanted to try differently included Casey A) being present for more than a few hours of labor and, therefore, B) helping me through contractions when I needed him. We discussed and practiced several ways he could help me through contractions and things he could do in labor in general to assure me of his presence and support.

My “different” list also included some trivial things to try, like a relaxing and calm atmosphere for labor (complete with music and a pretty labor nighty—not a tank top or Casey’s big, ugly t-shirt) and naps and a bath—I wanted to take advantage of the “midwives’ epidural” this time. You'd think my labors were only an hour long the way we haven't taken advantage of some common labor techniques in the first two births. The problem is, prodromal labor can have the same effect as a really short labor in that it lulls one into thinking, "this baby isn't coming anytime soon," until it's too late to do anything but have a baby.

It was also important to me to focus on the beauty of the gift of birth and what a miracle God does in bringing a baby into the world. I wanted to make the day of labor worshipful by being mindful of His handiwork in making this baby and my body, and His sovereignty over what may happen in childbirth. This is crucial to relaxation for me—to trust God. I simply cannot just trust “birth” or my body. Those things can (and often do) fail. God is always the same. And He is always trustworthy.

Throughout the pregnancy, I practiced relaxation with my Braxton Hicks. One difference with these B.H. this time around was that they were very crampy, and thus, even more like “real” contractions than ever before (I have a hard time distinguishing “real” ones as it is). I did not keep track of my contractions this time like I did in Claire’s pregnancy. That served a purpose, and I no longer needed to figure out why I couldn’t discern “real” labor. There were a few times when I thought—based on the strength, duration and frequency of contractions—that I might be going into labor, but this time I didn’t pay enough mind to them to really wonder. Most of the really strong, long and close together bouts lasted a few hours or less this time, so I didn’t have much time to start wondering before they tapered off again, and the few times that they were like that for an entire day, I took them in stride and figured (based on my previous birth experiences) that I’d most likely discover “this is it” before the baby was born. I wouldn't miss the birth of my baby.

For Part 2, click here

Could This Be It?

At 4:30 this morning, I awakened to a strong contraction and went to empty my bladder. A few minutes later, another one came, just as strong (sometimes my full bladder can make them feel more intense, so I expected a trip to the toilet to take care of the discomfort). Then a few minutes later, another intense one came. These required my attention and concentration to breathe, stay relaxed and not tense up. I woke Casey to tell him I had just had 3 very strong contractions in the last 15-20 min. and got up to get a snack, as I felt pretty nauseated. I decided to time contractions while eating.
So far, they’ve been 8-13 minutes apart and really intense. I’m glad it’s morning, because I’ll be able to call Barb soon without worrying about waking her for no good reason. Casey will probably stay home a few hours at least until we know what’s going on and if this is labor, and if it is progressing fast enough to warrant not going into work at all. I just remembered I need to take some herbs for my GBS (yes, no surprise, I’m positive yet again). Will update in a few hours if it is not labor, and if so, the next post may be a birth announcement!
For now, it’s herbs and back to sleep. Pray for me!

Contractions, Contractions

I just called a friend from church to cancel our plans for meeting today. The girls and I were going to spend a few hours at her house, which is at least an hour away. Last night, I was awakened many times by contractions, which, in my experience with my previous labors, usually means that the contractions are "real," but the same thing happened Saturday night, and they petered out to nothing special by mid-church on Sunday. I am virtually certain I will not be having a baby today, but the possibility (however remote) that I will be so far away from home (or anywhere--she lives way out in the country) when I realize "this is it" is way too much of a chance to take. I just picture myself giving birth alone in the car (with the girls in their car seats) on the side of the road and with no cell phone service, and it's enough to make the difficult decision to cancel.



Since 6:15 this morning, I've been trying to figure out what's going on, because if I'm not going to give birth today, it would be really good to keep my mind off the contractions by going somewhere or at least having an activity planned. I haven't officially timed contractions (the girls played with our "contraction-timing" watch the other day, and I have yet to find it again), but they've been about 3-5 minutes apart (by the clock) and fairly strong. I packed Casey's lunch, ate breakfast with the girls, took them on a walk around the neighborhood, watered the lawn & plants, and showered. I didn't notice a change in the contractions, but they were not debilitating. I don't know what I hoped to find out, because there isn't much difference between my Braxton Hicks contractions and real labor contractions. Needless to say, I ended up calling Case to see what he thought I should do. He feels the same way: almost sure I won't have the baby in the next day or two, but not worth the chance of giving birth on the side of the road or the kitchen floor of our friend's house.



So, here I sit at home. The girls and I are going to take an early nap in a few minutes and then see how things go after lunch. Maybe we'll try to stop by a friend's house here in town if I'm getting distracted by the contractions this afternoon. I'm not paranoid about going out--just trying to be careful about how far I go.