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!

Go Read this Great Article!

Feb 5, 2012--edited to remove all mention of and links to the birth organization I cannot in good conscience support in any way, including the very mention of their name.  This organization has failed to make good on many promises, many of which are financial, and has behaved appaulingly unprofessionally in many ways.

As I have announced somewhat here on this blog and more officially to clients and friends, I am now a (link removed from post so as not to drive traffic to their scam of a site) Educator.

Recently, I started my first (edited) class.  I have a student couple who has made the decision to birth at home with their first baby.  A rarity, but a wise choice.  One I wish I had had the smarts to make with my firstborn. (Not that I regret my decision of hospital birth--I just did not know enough to choose and be comfortable with home birth back then.)

If home birth is not initially scoffed at and completely thrown aside, the scenario all-too-often goes like this: a mom-to-be states, "I'm not entirely comfortable with home birth.  I'll have this baby in the hospital, and if all goes well, we can consider out-of-hospital birth in the future;" little knowing that the choice of hospital birth will often lead her to the conclusion that she or her baby would have been in trouble at least, and would have died at worst--had she not given birth in said hospital.

Indeed, it is this faulty premise that feeds the illusion of the need to birth in a hospital in order to have a safe birth.  Mom encounters problems in labor and birth while in hospital, and incorrectly assumes that had she been at home, she would have experienced these same complications.  Ask any birth junky: the common quip from women after such an experience is: ". . . And thank GOD we were in the hospital, or . . . (insert dangerous and/or life-threatening scenario here). . . would have happened, and . . . (insert individual's name and horrific outcome here)!"  The faulty logic is that birth = danger, while in fact, very often it is birthing in the hospital that causes the problems encountered in birth: the iatrogenic complications (that is, problems arising as a result of medical intervention, not the actual birthing process).  Yes, hospitals are good for some births, and yes, major abdominal surgery is life-saving in some instances, but this does not mean that the hospital is the safest place to birth for most women.

If you are reading this and it makes sense, I am preaching to the choir.  For any readers who wonder, "Where is she getting these crazy correlations?!", I would truly love to spend a few hours on this post and give all the statistical data to back up what I've said in the above paragraphs, but alas, I have four young children, a teething and needy seven-month-old asleep on my chest as I type, and I need to start dinner, finish laundry, and otherwise continue cleaning and preparing for my next class.  So I regret to say that the above statements will have to suffice as a teaser and a challenge for anyone not convinced of the normalcy of birth.

Since having joined (name withheld) Birth, I have regained an excitement about teaching the essentials of a safe and satisfying birth.  I have also absolutely enjoyed the never-before-experienced sense of community with my sisters in birth: fellow birth educators, doulas and midwives (to name a few) within the (name withheld) Birth community.  This great bunch of birth workers have challenged me, encouraged me and constantly bring new and interesting information my way.  I am LOVING my affiliation with (name withheld) Birth!  (Incidentally, what I loved--and still do--was  the community, which is still alive and well after a mass exodus of most of the educators who had originally joined the org.  The business, as it stands, is a blight to the birthing community.)

Today, one of my colleagues posted an older article by Mothering Magazine entitled: "You Want to Give Birth Where?", stating that the couple had been clients of hers and students of one of our fellow Brio educators (while she was under a previous certification).  This article is a good read: one that chronicles how an intelligent, mainstream couple came to the oft-assumed "brave" and "out-there" decision to birth at home.  (Interesting note: the dad/baby pictured with the article is not the dad/baby of the article: my colleague states that he and his wife were much more mainstream.  I mention this as an aside to encourage you to read the actual article and put aside any conclusions drawn upon seeing the picture.)  Enjoy the read!

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

Haley Kay Cowart is Here!

Haley Kay Cowart arrived yesterday, May 22, at 4:24 p.m. One day before her due date. She was 8 lb, 2 1/2 ounces and 20 3/4 inches long. I am starting to write out the birth story, but it may take a few days to get my mind around it and gather the facts (didn't keep track like I did w/Claire's birth, so I'm relying on other sources for some of the specifics). In the meantime, here are a few pictures to keep the curious satiated.Mommy & Haley 7:17 p.m. 3 hours postpartum.

Haley and her abuelita--Sandra Kay (for whom the "Kay" was chosen. No, not for Mary Kay) Proud sisters Ruby and Claire

So far, Haley is sweet and mild-mannered. She "mews" like a kitten, which is a welcome change to the adult-sized yowl I've come to know as Claire's cry. I'll take that meow any day! It is too precious. She is nursing well and if I'm not mistaken, all bodily functions have "functioned" as of last night. Barb laughs and says the orfaces are present and accounted for, or open for business, or something like that. Both of us are doing well, and I'm quite happy to be on this side of the birth experience!

Claire's Birth Story

This is the contraction chart I created while in labor with Claire. I noted the time a contraction would start, how long it had been since the last one started, how long this one lasted, and what I was doing or feeling at that time. I've color coded these things to help keep them straight:

Time/Spacing/Duration/Behavior or Comments (Bold = what I wrote at the time. Not bold = commentary.)
6:57 a.m. / ---- / 2 min., 30 sec.
Friday, July 14, 2006 (6 days before due date). After 6 restful hours of sleep, Casey’s (D.H.) alarm wakes me at 6:30 a.m. I thought I had been waking up because I needed to pee, but when I have a contraction as the alarm goes off, I begin to think that’s why I woke several times before the alarm sounded. I wake Casey (sleeping on the couch—back problems) and tell him that I think I’m in labor (again) and “this is different” (again—I said this very same thing yesterday). We decide he’ll go to work and we’ll reassess where things are at lunch time. On his way to work, Casey calls my mom in Colorado (5-6 hour drive) to give her a heads up that we may call her today to come down. He also calls his mom and brother.
7:07 / 10 / 1:30 Menstrual-like cramping
7:16 / 9 / 2:00 Baby moving between contractions
7:25 / 9 / 2:55 STRONG contractions: I would consider these painful.
(The difficulty is, though the contractions themselves are painful, I feel good—I mean really good— between them. Haven’t felt this good in a month, probably. This lends to the thinking that this can't be "real" labor. Even though the contractions are crampy, most are no longer, stronger or even closer together than my Braxton Hicks have been. No back or leg labor today; it’s way too easy, easier than my “false” labor has been.)
7:35 / 10 /1:30
7:40 / 5 / 1:10
7:50 / 10 / 2:15
8:00 / 10 / 1:00
---------------- Sleep (dream about baby). A few contractions woke me.
9:35 /---- / 1:10
9:44 / 9 / 2:00 Shower (next 2 contractions also)
9:50 / 6 / 1:00 "
9:55 /5 /0:45 "
10:00 /5 /1:30 Get Ruby (17 months old) up, get breakfast
10:06 / 6 / 1:00
10:10 /4 / 0:30 (Contraction) didn’t ever get going
10:16 / 6 /2:00 Very STRONG—almost took my breath away
10:25 / 9 / 0:30 (Petered out) Eat bagel and cream cheese
10:30 / 5 / 1:30 STRONG again
10:38 / 8 / 1:10
10:46 / 8 / 1:15 (drink) 12 oz milk
10:54 / 8 / 1:15
11:00 / 6 / 1:45
11:06 / 6 / 1:00 Call Casey @ work—he’ll stay (was thinking of just working half day, but things haven’t changed much since this morning.)
11:16 / 10 / 1:00 Call from Sandy (MIL)
11:25 / 9 / 1:30
11:32 / 8 / 1:30 Empty bladder
11:46 / 14 / 1:30 A few contractions started, then petered out
11:54 / 8 / 1:30
12:05 p.m. / 11 / 1:00
12:12 / 7 / 0:45
12:19 / 7 / 1:30
12:27 / 8 / 1:30
12:35 / 8 / 4:45
12:42 / 7 / 1:30
12:50 / 8 / 1:00
12:55 / 5 / 1:30
1p.m. to 4ish: Met Christina & Sarah (two friends from Bradley class from last pregnancy) at the base pool to stave off disappointment in case this fizzles. Didn’t time or count these contractions, but they were noticeable. Some ladies at the baby pool (Christina & Sarah’s friends) told me they’ve all had babies and some have been coaches for each other when their husbands are TDY, so if I have this baby at the pool, they’ll help me. (It was more lighthearted than it sounds. Nobody actually suspected that it would be a matter of hours before she was born. In fact, later, another pregnant woman asked me when I was due, and I told her I thought I might be in labor right now. I still wasn’t thinking it would go anywhere by then.)

Ruby played in the pool, and I walked around in the water (wearing a dress) and sat on the edge and then on a chaise lounger. Drank 24 oz. pink lemonade like it was nothing and shared watermelon and cheese and crackers w/Ruby during this time. I had brought my camera, but it was too much trouble to get it out and ask someone to take a picture of Ruby and me on one of our last outings as “just the two of us.” I wish I had gone to the trouble.

Around 2:30, I started to feel uncomfortable and panicky, but I didn’t know anyone well enough to show it. I could have cried here. I hate being vulnerable in front of strangers and didn’t want anyone slowing me up more than I already was by making a big deal out of it. I did NOT want to have this baby at the pool in front of everybody, and if I panicked, an “emergency” would ensue and they’d call 911 and wouldn’t let me drive home. Besides, I figured I was just overheated and it was being hugely prego right in the middle of the summer and being thirsty that made me feel this way, not the contractions. I really wanted something more to drink, but didn’t think I could make it to the snack shop 20 feet away. Christina announced that she’d be on her way, and I jumped at the chance. Told her I should head out, too. I got Ruby dressed, packed my stuff up and called Casey w/Christina’s phone (mine had been missing for the past month) to tell him I was going to head home. It seemed like an eternity to get to the car (it may have taken a good 15-20 minutes). I was SO slow. It didn’t help that I’d parked so far away and let Ruby walk—didn’t think of bringing the stroller. I didn’t stop for contractions—didn’t want Christina to think that things had gotten that serious—but I was very slow. I felt so badly for Christina. Hoped I wasn’t holding her up too much from something she needed to get to, but I really needed her. I don’t know if she knew how much I needed her help right then, since I was still trying to hide my panic. She helped load Ruby and my stuff up in the car and took off.

I got in the car around 3, and stopped by Sonic to get a drink and ice around 3:30. The teenager in the drive-through said “good luck” as he handed me the ice. I was pretty surprised that he could put 2 and 2 together—me being hugely pregnant and buying a bag of ice.

By this time, I was feeling much better, hydrating myself and having cooled off in the air conditioning. I chalked the recent panic up to being out in the heat too long. I considered running to Target to get a few things, thought about how embarrassing it would be for my water to break in the aisle, reminded myself that that only happens in rare circumstances and water usually breaks during active labor, so I’d be pretty safe. Then I looked back at my girl, and she was seriously fading. I decided to go straight home and put her down for a nap. (Yes, you may state the obvious—God was VERY gracious to me especially during these hours!) During trip home, contractions were about every 10 min. It was difficult to drive during these ones.

3:57 / 11 / 1:15 Arrive home. Put ice in freezer, put Ruby down for a nap and lay down myself. Call Mom to tell her not much has changed, but they haven’t petered out yet today, so maybe this will turn out to be labor. Not sure what to tell her. I’d hate for her to come if it’s just going to peter out again. Going to take a nap and see if anything changes.

4:08 / 10 / 1:00
4:18 / 10 / 1:00 Water broke with a gush (but not a pop) at 4:20 (between contractions). Thankfully, I’m on the waterproof pad! Still on phone w/Mom. I tell her I think my water broke. I’ll call her back as soon as I know for sure. Call Casey (on his way home after working a full day!) and tell him I’m too scared to check if the gush was water or blood. He’s 2 min away. He checks—yes, it is water! I might actually be in labor this time!

4:25 / 7 / 1:00 ? On toilet (for next 3, also). Somewhere in here, I call Mom back and tell her we’re either in labor or soon will be. She’s already in the van ready to leave when I call. Says she knew.
Casey calls Thomas (our pastor) to tell him my water broke and I’m in labor. (A lot of confusion ensues because of this call. Casey called again and left a message when I had Claire, so anyone who was at the Friday night Bible study or church on Sunday had the impression that my labor was 2 hours long. I had a hard time explaining that I had her 2 hours after we knew I was in labor for sure. I wish it was more common for women to not recognize labor! I get so many weird looks from people, and I don’t know how to explain the prodromal “frog-in-the-pot-of-water” part that made it so confusing for me to determine.)

4:32 / 7 / 1:15 (Still on toilet) I’m really excited to think I might have this baby in the next day or two, but disappointed that my water broke “so early on” in labor after all the protein I had eaten. I’m still thinking here that this might be labor or labor might start soon, and counting on it petering out like Ruby’s did for 10 hours or so, then getting going again (don’t want to be disappointed if that happens, so I’m planning on a long night and then some). Don’t know if I’ll have her before the 24 hour “cutoff” after water breaks. But I guess I don’t mind if I have to go to the hospital tomorrow night. At least I’m actually going to have this baby this time—one way or another.
4:41 / 9 / 1:15 Still on toilet
4:46 / 5 / 1:00 “
------------ Missed timing a contraction
4:54 / ? / 0:45
5:03 / 5 / 1:15 Casey evicts the drunken tenants from our rental property (on his cell phone on the back patio). I overhear him as I’m getting something in the kitchen wearing a tank top and a towel between my legs, then returning to the bathroom, calling people on the home phone, telling them we are having a baby. (Midwife, Christina, Kari, Gram, etc.) It was hard talking to the last couple of people, trying to hide the pain. (Should have told me it was getting serious.)

5:07 / 4 / 1:00 Even now, my emotional signpost is excitement, so I think I have a LONG way to go. Little do I know!

5:12 / 4 / 2:00 GUSHES of water—DOOZIE contraction (hard to relax). After this, Casey videotapes for a minute and takes a last pregnant picture. We’re sure it’s happening now.



5:16 / 4 / 0:45 Not bad (In the video it’s hard to tell I’m even having one.)
5:20 / 4 / 1:00 Hard to talk through.
5:22 / 2 / 1:15 On toilet—very hard being upright. Barbara (midwife) is on her way from a VBAC birth (where she’s been since yesterday). She had asked if she had time to go home and get some sterile tools and take a shower. I told her no rush. She knew better. I’m glad she didn’t take a long shower or have to sterilize the tools!

5:27 / 5 / 1:30 I tell Barbara (over the phone) that I don’t want to leave the tiled area since I’m now constantly leaking fluid, but I can’t stand anymore. It’s too painful, but the bed isn’t ready yet (Casey’s putting a shower curtain under some old sheets). She tells me to lay some old towels out to protect the carpet from the bathroom to the bed. I think I asked Casey to do this. I didn’t want to move. Then I hurried to the bed before the next contraction began.

5:32 / 5 / 2:00 DOOZIE (lying down, finally). Casey is sitting at the desk working on blowing up the birth tub with a foot pump. Between contractions, I tell him I’m afraid to say it, but maybe the reason I’m not able to relax well is because I’m not supposed to be relaxing, but working w/the contractions (i.e. pushing). (I don’t want to think too much about this, because what if I have another day of this ahead? Wouldn’t I be disappointed?) I lay down on my left side. About this time, Casey gets Ruby up from her nap. She comes to visit me during a few of these contractions. (Good thing I practiced relaxation while she was loud, whining and/or cantankerous for the last few months. I can keep focused despite the noise—ugly as it is at times. My “Braxton Hicks School of Relaxation” has really paid off!) Casey videotapes for a minute—the last taping before I have Claire.



5:40 / 8 / 1:00 For two contractions or so around here (including the one in this video), I begin to mentally panic. The pain is so unbearable and I don’t think I can do this for another day or two. I question why I chose a home birth—I can’t do this—I might need drugs!!! In my head, I scream: “Somebody help me!” but I can hardly breathe at all, (let alone have the breath to say something), the contractions are so strong.

5:45 / 5 / 2:00 After transition is over (in hindsight—but at the time I’m still thinking I have hours and hours left of this), I tell Casey (who has finished pumping) I think I need him (with me) now. He says, “What do you want me to do? Fill up the tub, get Ruby’s stuff together, or help you through contractions?” I tell him to forget the tub and get Ruby ready. . .and hurry!

5:51 / 6 / 2:00 Not bad. (I can’t believe I’m still timing contractions and making notes.) At this time, Casey takes Ruby out to Matt & Christina, who have kindly swung by to get her. While he is out front, Barbara arrives, and he tells her to go on inside.

? / ? / ? GUSH (that’s all I wrote on the pad—not able to write anything else before a second strong contraction came—but I wanted everything documented, and no one else was there. I was writing “gush” right after the 1st contraction when Barbara came in the room.)

During this “gush” contraction, my body pushed (hence the gush of fluid, I’m guessing). I didn’t mean to, but my body took over. My body pushed for these 2 contractions and Barbara came in around 6:05 right between them, so I probably started pushing about 6 p.m.

I told Barbara that I was glad she was here, because I needed her. I was having a hard time relaxing. (Contractions were coming right on top of each other.) I told her my body was pushing, but that I wanted to make sure it was okay before I tried (still thinking my body was once again playing tricks on me and trying to protect myself from disappointment in case I was nowhere near 10 cm.) She said she’d check me and I asked if she could wait till this 2nd contraction was over. When it subsided, she checked me and said, “you are complete.” And “the baby’s head is about that far (with her thumb and forefinger about 2 inches apart) from coming out.” Wow! That was encouraging! To think I only had to push her a few inches and she’d be out! (If only someone had given me that mental picture for Ruby’s birth.)

6:10 / ? / ? Another contraction came and my body pushed by itself again. Right after the contraction, Aimee (the intern who is also Barbara’s daughter) arrived. Shortly thereafter, Casey joined us.

I asked Barbara what I should do and she suggested that I get off my side and for Casey to come behind me as a sort of lounge chair. So, for the duration of the contractions, this is how we were. My legs were “flopped” to either side of me—I didn’t waste energy holding them up—just focused all my power to pushing where it mattered. It was quite comfortable, and, though the contractions were so strong I could barely catch my breath in time to push, I felt like I had 15 minute breaks between them. I asked Barb and she said I had about 2 min. between. (I have no idea how long they were, so it may have been more like a minute break.) I felt so good between contractions, I told them I could totally do this again...even tomorrow. But the contractions were doozies. I had to ask Casey not to touch my belly during them, as he was trying to ascertain when they would start and end. We were way beyond the kind of contractions where my belly being touched would have been okay with me. (Funny thing was that between even these contractions I felt so much better than I had for the past month when I had been having “false” labor. I’d gladly take the real labor day over any of those “false” days full of leg and back labor and intense pain that didn’t subside between contractions!)

We talked here and there between contractions. . . I mentioned that I had dreamed about the baby that morning, how good I felt—how doable this was.

For the pushing contractions: I would feel one coming on and (closing my eyes), right away I had to take a deep breath just to keep from tensing and holding my breath. If I hadn’t breathed in in time, I would have been in trouble—the pain quickly became so great and overpowering. But catching my breath before it was taken from me (in a deep, controlled way) caused me to stay above the pain and focus my energy on pushing, not struggling to catch my breath. I would breathe in slowly, exhale, inhale again, wait for the peak, then push with all I had; exhale, breathe again and push with all I had again. I believe this is what the Bradley book said to do, and it did the trick.

Her head was soon crowning (at this point, I did say “I hurt, I hurt, I hurt,” to which Barbara replied, “Yes. Yes.” Don’t ask me why, but that was so comforting, maybe to be acknowledged and agreed—not argued—with.) Claire’s head finally came out (over a few contractions, maybe? I don’t know) and that pain subsided. Barb asked me to move “up,” since the angle was causing Claire’s face to be in the escaping fluid. I didn’t understand quite right, so I pushed myself up to sit more uprightly and was quickly encouraged to scoot my bottom down nearer to Barb and Aimee. I guess I just had “up” in my mind—didn’t think if it made sense or not.

Barb had mentioned that she’d be telling me to hold off on pushing soon, so as to let the baby ease out slowly. She said it might be hard to do, and that I really needed to listen for her voice when she told me, because I would be pretty focused on pushing. I told her I’d be listening intently for those instructions—I didn’t want my baby to shoot out of me like last time. (Hoping not to tear so extensively this time.) Claire’s shoulder’s came out together (they’re supposed to come out one at a time as the baby turns slightly), so I did tear in two places, but they were so small I didn’t need any stitches. A lot of blood and fluid came out with Claire’s shoulders. Casey likes to refer to it as the time “the blood was flying.” (Apparently, it got both him and Aimee.)

6:28 p.m. Claire Elise Cowart enters the world! I don’t remember the blow-by-blow, but Barb and Aimee told me to pick her up and put her on my bare belly. We were still in our “lounge chair” position and one of them quickly put a hat on her head and a towel over both of us to retain as much heat as possible. We got some video within about 5 minutes. No one had checked yet to see if she really was a girl, so I checked. Claire was very quiet. She made little squeaks and sounds, but didn’t really cry. (She did gag a lot for the first day or so, perhaps because she didn’t cry all the mucus out?)

Claire nursed and boy, did I feel the afterbirth contractions! They were almost too much to bear. I don’t know if they were worse than the labor contractions or if I’m just a wimp after the baby’s out, but those things made me sick. I couldn’t keep from tensing and wincing with pain. Barb waited a while before “upsetting” our family. The cord had stopped pulsing and the placenta was delivered with only a little discomfort where I had torn. Casey cut the cord (not that he was that into it, but Barb gave him the scissors and told him what to do.) Casey got me a snack (cottage cheese) and drink (Gatorade-ish stuff) while Barb and Aimee cleaned me up, then commenced with the baby check, more than an hour after Claire was born. We kept the lights low and Claire just looked around. She could already hold her own head up. She was 21 ½ inches long and weighed 8 lb. even. A side note: like my previous pregnancy, I had tested positive for Group B Strep at 37 weeks. (I must be a carrier!) I did a "home" remedy (which I did wrong) and was re-tested the next week. Barb got the results when she rushed home to get a shower, etc. that day. (Probably why she was intent on getting lots of info. over the phone about the color, etc. of the amniotic fluid.) She refrained from telling me I was still GBS + until after I had birthed Claire--something I'm very grateful for. I don't think I could've relaxed very well with that knowledge at the time, though now it seems like no big deal.
Barb sends Casey out for some pads that are “sufficient” (she doesn’t like the ones I got). Casey yells to the neighbors as he hops in his car: “I just had a baby! Whoo Hoo!”



9:?? Barb and Aimee leave to (finally) get some rest after over 40 straight hours of work. The Andersons bring Ruby home to meet her little sister. Ruby does not seem surprised or out of sorts. She loves Claire from the start. Christina comes in and we talk for a few minutes. Casey sends an e-mail to our friends and family and we make some phone calls. My mom arrives somewhere around 10:30. We talk for a little while. At some point, we call it a night.