The Beginning's End

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." -Semisonic

Tomorrow morning the birth center where my children were both welcomed to this world will close.  They will still have appointments there at the clinic, but the actual birth rooms will no longer be used. They have opened a new "Midwifery Center" at the hospital for the midwives where that will focus on low-intervention, physiological birth. They will still allow water births and families will be able to go home after 4 hours, just like they could at the birth center. They have real beds instead of hospital beds, and the requisite family waiting area and kitchenette.  All of the boxes are checked and it should be just the same, only in the hospital. 

But it's not the same.  It looks like a hospital, it feels like a hospital.  It is sterile.

About a decade ago, before we were able to even seriously consider having babies, A was perusing my copy of "Our Bodies, Ourselves" and read about births attended by midwives, home births, and free-standing birth centers. Being raised by a mother who had a home birth and avoided doctors when at all possible, my response to her exciting new knowledge was probably somewhere along the lines of "Yeah, so?"  Her next tidbit was that there was a birth center less than a mile from us.

I remember being more freaked out that she looked this up than excited, we were still years away from being able to start a family.  However, we both established well-woman care there so we could get a feel for it and start meeting the midwives. They were lovely, and we were sure this was the place for us.

Fast forward to 2012, we finally had conceived E and we were nervous and excited to start our prenatal visits and centering classes.  Since we had been foster parents, we had already had a taste of the marginalization same sex couples face as parents, but we weren't prepared for the onslaught that came with being pregnant.  The birth center was our haven.  We knew we would be included and valued.  We knew that our care providers would make an effort to use language that was respectful. When they didn't know they best way to talk about something, they would ask instead of being awkward and uncomfortable or downright insulting. We could have conversations and were empowered to be in control our health instead of just being told what to do. It was refreshing.

When we finally were able to tour the birth rooms, they were each carefully decorated in a different style and we fell in love with the blue room. That September, we welcomed E to the world surrounded by strength and love.

When it was time for A's pregnancy with C, we couldn't wait to get to know our new Centering class and be surrounded by this wonderful community once again.  This time we would regularly have to go back to a birth room to check A's blood pressure, it seemed to get stage fright. Often we would end up in the green beachy room, and decided that would be where C was born.

Since then I have been able to be involved on the community advisory board and my friendship and respect for this amazing group of strong women only grows.  As we learned about the plans to close, I was shown the true depth of spirit they have poured into the birth center.  My own sadness and nostalgia were nothing compared to the fierce protective force they showed as we tried to save it.

The new hospital unit is a welcome addition to the options for birth in Tucson.  But it also marks the end, because with this new door opening, the closed doors in its wake are being glossed over and brushed aside. Not only to the parents who do not want to be in a hospital when to meet their child for the first time, but to those nurses and midwives who searched out the birth center as the model they believed in and would dedicate themselves to. There are many of these women that I now consider my friends. It is for them that I mourn.

This space was made sacred as it bore witness to babies taking their first breaths. To mothers' blood, sweat, and tears.  To growing families. To the midwives and nurses who calmly supported each birth, giving away a little bit of themselves with each long night and beautiful new beginning.

Today marks a different sort of new beginning. I hope that, in time, the new space will have the quiet, heavy feel of a sacred space. A place where time seems to stand still.  Waiting for that next new beginning.

One Birth, Four Stories

As with E's birth, we're writing C's birth story in several perspectives, each without having read the others. The red text is mine (A), the purple text is T's, the photos illustrate T's mom's perspective and at the end, the green text is my mom's.


A Whirl of a Wednesday - A's perspective

Before I can tell you the story of C's birth, I have to tell you about our lives at this point. His due date fell right between the end of a year-long online certification program that I had to complete and the closings of our houses - one sold, one purchased - and the busiest time of year at T's job. The last month of my pregnancy with him is a blur of sitting at the computer into the night, playing with E, and watching T feverishly work long nights and pack up our house in preparation for the move. He was due six days prior to our move across town.

Sunday, we went for a short family hike and took some sunset photos. Little did we know that these would be the last photos taken before I went into labor.

Photo by T

It's All About Timing - T's Perspective

It's been said that I'm a little bit of a control freak. It's even been said by me. So being the non-gestational parent has been an exercise in patience for me. Throw in our move, and my sanity has been borderline for a while. Even so, one of the biggest differences for me was work- with E, we were at a slow point at work, and it wouldn't be a big deal when I needed to drop everything and leave. This time, that was not true.

February is traditionally the busiest month of the year, and although this year, March held that honor, it was not slow by any means. The week of A's due date was one of the biggest shows of the year for our theater, and there wasn't enough time to set it up, so they were going to have to work through the night.  Lucky for us, there are 4 supervisors to split the shifts between, so we didn't have to work 36 hours straight.  My schedule ended up being 3pm on Monday through 5am on Tuesday. and then back from 5pm to 11pm. E stayed the night at my parents house so I would be able to sleep and not worry about getting her to preschool. Unfortunately Murphy's law had other ideas and a construction crew started working behind our house at 8am.  By 10 am I gave up, and rolled out of bed. I got some lunch with my mom, picked E up from school, picked A up from work, and spent some packing before heading back to work. 

Monday and Tuesday I went to work as usual, nothing exciting to report. Tuesday night Teri was scheduled to work late, so E and I had some naps and a late dinner and as I was getting her ready for bed, I had to use the bathroom. I had some blood and fluid in my underwear. I texted Teri to let her know that things may be ramping up, but I wasn't experiencing any contractions yet.

E lay in her bed and we read stories, but I found I couldn't lie next to her for cuddles like usual because I'd begun having some rhythmic cramping through my pelvis. I explained that my body was getting ready to push the baby out. E seemed less than pleased about not having her cuddle, but excited about the baby coming soon. I kissed her goodnight, told her how much I loved her, and pulled the door closed to her room, guessing that the next time I saw her, our lives would be very different.

The evening went much smoother than the the overnight had (go figure), so when the other supervisor asked if he could head out after the second half of the show started, I didn't give it another thought since this is how we did it every time. Of course, about 10 minutes later I got a text from A-

A- No contractions or anything, but I've got blood coming out of me
A- Well, not JUST blood. I'm not hemorrhaging.
T- Like "bloody show"?
A- Yes.
T- Well that's exciting...
A- I'm having a hard time getting there at the moment... our daughter is wide awake and crying because I don't want to peel the bandaid off her arm and put on a new one
A- It's hard to tell, but I'm pretty sure I've got some contractions happening
T- I'm sorry E is having a rough night.
T- Let me know if I need to skip out early... I should be done in about 90 minutes
A- She and I both got naps, I'm more concerned about you
T- If things start to slow and you make it to midnight tomorrow, he will be born on his due date, too!
A- What a lovely thing to wish upon me, lol.
T- That's why I didn't say "if your labor is really long," Only the very early part.;)
A- Haha, well worded. These are closer together than I expected, but they're mild. Is that weird? I can't tell what the heck is happening.

The whole conversation was over about an hour (starting at 9:22pm), but I didn't see her last message until I was leaving. We had discussed the fact that she needed to be very upfront about her telling me if she needed me to come home immediately or not, so I didn't feel like a terrible wife for finishing out my call. 

I crawled into bed to try and rest and wait for T to come home. I heard the car beep as she locked it and came into the house around 11:30 pm. She slid into bed and wrapped her arms around me. We slept for a short time, but around 1:00 am I found being in bed unbearable. I took a long shower - I didn't get out until the water grew chilly. I toweled my hair and put on comfortable clothes and went in search of comfort elsewhere in the house. I stood, I sat, I lounged, I walked. I tried to watch TV. T came out after a bit, unable to sleep. She offered to french braid my hair and I gladly took her up on it, since I can't french braid my own hair. Sitting cross-legged on the floor through several contractions wasn't my idea of a good time, so I ruled out that as a comfortable laboring position. I leaned backwards on a chair, I layed on my side on the couch. For awhile, T and I lay together on the couch, bodies nestled together, and she held me as I breathed and hummed and contracted. She whispered loving, supportive breaths into my ear and rubbed my back. She made me eat food and drink water and continually offered new and different ideas for ways to labor. Finally just before 5:00 am, she called my parents (who have a two hour drive ahead of them) to let them know that the baby was on his way. After that, she called the birth center to alert the midwife on call that I was in labor. T spoke to her and told her how I was doing, then I spoke to her briefly so she could assess how I was handling labor. She gave the same advice we'd been offered before: "Come in when you need more support, feel like pushing, or your water breaks" with a new caveat - call us first, as there were several moms laboring at that time. Both at the center and at the hospital. It was a busy morning.

Photo by T

Photo by T

I sped home and found her in bed, trying to get some rest. I was torn between excitement, wanting to stay calm and help her through contractions, and really, really wanting to sleep since I was guessing there wouldn't be much more opportunity. I laid down with her and she filled me in on how everything was feeling and encouraged me to sleep. We both tried for a while, drifted in and out of sleep, but the contractions were already strong enough that she couldn't sleep through them, so she got up and took a shower. When she was done she went to the living room hoping that I would sleep more, but I just couldn't, so I went out to see how she was doing.  She was only a little annoyed that I wasn't sleeping.  I suggested we watch a movie and I braid her hair. We put on The Hunger Games - maybe not the best choice, but we didn't really watch much anyways.

When the movie was over, around 3, I started the labor and delivery music mix we had made while A tried to find a comfortable position. We tried different combinations of chairs and pillows to no avail. Eventually we decided to go back to bed. We agreed we would call our parents at 5am, so her parents could miss the morning rush hour for their 2 hour drive down. We tried to time her contractions, but they were really inconsistent. She would have 2 or 3 really close together and then have a longer break, usually about 7-10 minutes. During the longer breaks she would fall asleep and be startled awake by the next contraction. I remember this from my labor and it was pretty awful, so I did my best to help her wake up a little earlier in the contraction so she could relax instead of fighting it by reflex. 

5am came and I called her mom to tell her that she had been laboring through the night and they should come now. I texted my mom and told her the baby was on his way and I would let them know when we were heading to the Birth Center. I called the Birth Center and left a message with the answering service. A few minutes later, a midwife, Jamie, called back, asked for all of the details and talked to A for a little while. She asked how far away we lived and since it was less than a mile, she wanted us to wait as long as we could since it was a busy morning. Since I know they change shifts at 7am, I asked who was replacing her and it was Cece, who we really don't know well. 

After that, things happened really fast for me. My contractions grew more intense, closer together, and then began double and then triple peaking. I probably asked T forty times if my parents were getting close yet. I began worrying that they weren't going to make it; I could tell my labor was hastening towards the finish line and I knew that the baby wasn't going to wait. Turns out my parents had needed some time to get things together and get ready before leaving the house, so they were slightly delayed. T also called her parents to give them a heads up, although they only lived two miles away so there was no need for them to rush over.

Unfortunately, our timing was a bit off, because that's when things started getting intense. Contractions were really ramping up, but were still coming in 2s and 3s. A had to get out of bed to throw up and that raised my anxiety a lot.  Was this Transition? A asked how far away her parents were, so I texted. The response made my stomach drop... they had JUST left. I realized I hadn't packed the car yet, and went into a panic. I should have done that when she could handle contractions alone, but now I was going to have to leave her by herself, because there was no way I was waiting for her parents. I frantically ran around the house gathering all the things that needed to come-- our birth bag, camera bag, diaper bag, car seat, chargers, snacks, etc. Every few minutes I would check on her, and reassure her that her dad drives fast and they would definitely make it (I didn't even believe myself). After a while, her mom checked in to see if it was okay if A's brother drove down, too (which it was).

Between my panic, and trying to be there for the worst of the contractions, this took quite a while.  After about an hour, I had everything packed in the car and ready to go. By this point, A was having a really hard time and I told her we needed to go to the Birth Center NOW. It took 2 sets of contractions before she was willing to get out of bed and try to make it down the hall. While I waited, I texted my parents and told them they needed to come, my dad needed to stay with E who was still sleeping, and my mom was going to photograph the birth (which meant I got to help photograph when there was opportunity!). A stopped in the kitchen and leaned on the counter while I called the Birth Center answering service and told them we were on our way.

At about 8:15 am, both sets of parents arrived simultaneously. E was still asleep, and I'd been laboring in our bed for the last several hours. Our house still held within it the quiet, golden peace of early morning as I walked and contracted down the hallway and into the kitchen that Wednesday morning. The sunlight filtered through the blinds above the kitchen sink and I watched the dust motes swirl through the air as I heard cars pulling into our driveway. Another contraction broke the surface and I clutched the kitchen counter for support as I heard our parents greeting one another on their way in.

It was a strange and disjointed mixture of purposes. The parents likely felt energized and excited about the day to come - they were all getting a new grandchild! They probably also felt like I must have a ways left to go. I was no longer in a place in my labor where I could socialize and experience their joy, though I hope they all can understand that their happiness seeped in around the edges and has stayed with me ever since. There's nothing like knowing the baby about to join the world is being welcomed with anticipation and excitement and the love of two families. However, I think T and I knew that this baby was a lot closer to coming than anyone else realized. T began to splinter just a tiny bit, between trying to corral me into the car and greet our parents. My mom came into the kitchen and gave me a big hug between contractions. She stayed with me and rubbed my back while I had more contractions and T readied the car.

Naturally, ALL THE GRANDPARENTS showed up at exactly the same time. Our home filled with love and excitement, but this just made my panic worse.  Didn't they know if we didn't leave now he would be born in the car?!?

My mom wanted to take some pictures, everyone wanted an update, and I was, by default, in charge of coming up with a plan. I tried to figure out who would go in each car, trying to leave one with a car seat for our dads so they could bring E when she woke up.  I didn't realize my dad drove separately than my mom and had theirs, and eventually yelled, "We are going in the Ford, both mom's need to come NOW, I don't care how you get there. Someone has to stay with E, here's a key to the house" I took a deep breath and calmly (I think), ushered A into the car. 

We tried to time the drive between sets of contractions, but didn't luck out in that regard.  A found it really uncomfortable to sit, so she kneeled, facing the back of the car, hugging the head rest.  This is how we drove the 3/4 of a mile to the Birth Center at the tail end of rush hour.  It was about 9am when we arrived. 

Our dads stayed behind to be in charge of E, once she woke up. The moms came with us to the birth center. We arrived into the pleasant routine bustle of the clinic on a sunny weekday morning around 9:00 am. I was both elated and relieved that the first face I saw inside the door was that of Judy, the nurse we had for most of T's labor and our lactation consultant. I like all the staff at the birth center, but we've grown to trust and love Judy and I couldn't believe we were so lucky as to get her twice. Our midwife was Cece, someone who we'd met but hadn't had opportunity to develop a relationship with, so at that point she was an unknown quantity. Judy asked what room I'd like to deliver in, and I questioningly looked into her sparkling eyes and asked if it was possible to have the Green Room that I'd so thoroughly fallen in love with during a breastfeeding consultation. She replied that I could have it, I just had to wait for a patient completing a Non-Stress Test to finish up. I happily complied, which meant all of us stood around in the tiny kitchenette for twenty minutes while I leaned over chairs and breathed out my contractions.

We were so excited to see that our nurse was going to be Judy, who was the same nurse from E's birth and A had seen her for a breastfeeding consultation. My stress level immediately dropped. One of the hard things with the Birth Center is that you get whichever midwife is on call.  Throughout your pregnancy, you try to meet all of them, but we definitely knew some better than others.  Since the midwife we got wasn't one we had a relationship with, it was great that the nurse was.

There are 4 rooms at the Birth Center, and each has a color/theme. E was born in the Blue Room, which is lovely, but the bed has a foot board and is against a wall, both of which were inconvenient, so we didn't want to use it again. We absolutely hated the color and décor in the Pink Room. The Santa Fe (or was is Southwest?) room was okay. But our absolute favorite was the Green Room. It was big and beachy and lovely, but they used it for other things, too. So when Judy asked which room we wanted, A meekly asked if the Green Room was available.  She told us that they were doing a non-stress test in there, but if we could wait, we could use it. 

I was a little surprised that the car ride and change of scenery didn't slow my labor at all. If anything, it was continuing to grow more intense. In hindsight, this should have been an indicator. We got into the Green Room and I immediately had a triple peaking contraction. It took two or three sets of triple contractions for Cece to get mine and the baby's vitals, and then came the moment of truth: first cervical check (actually, the first pelvic exam of any kind since I'd gotten pregnant - a testament to midwifery care). As I lie back on the pillows, I was thinking only that I hoped not to get any contractions while being checked. Cece announced I was 8 centimeters dilated and completely effaced. The surprise in the room was almost palpable, but I replied "Bless you!" gratefully and got back out of bed for more contractions. Someone exclaimed, "Eight?! Did she say EIGHT?!" But it really wasn't a surprise for me.

I was nervous about waiting, but it seemed like I was the only one.  So we waited in the kitchenette with all of our bags, and A leaned over the back of a chair breathing through her contractions. About 20 minutes later, the room was ours.  Ashleigh made it to the edge of the bed before another set of contractions started.  The midwife listed to the baby with a Doppler and then waited patiently for them to fade.  She had A sit on the bed  and she took her blood pressure. Another wave of contractions started before she could check dilation. This was the moment of truth-- when we were at here during my labor, our spirits all broke a little bit when they told me I was only 1cm after 11 hours of labor, so we were anxious to know. The next time there was a break, she checked and announced A was 8cms and 100% effaced.  The tension in the room dropped; we were almost there.

Photo by Grandpa

Someone convinced me to try going into the tub for awhile, so they began filling it up. I stripped off my bottoms and clambered over the tub wall into its warm depths. It was large and luxurious and when I settled to the bottom, I was already much more comfortable. I recall being concerned that laboring in the tub would stall my labor, and I asked Judy if she thought that would happen. I believe the answer was something like, "You're progressing just fine, don't worry about it." I found a way to wedge my elbows and arms so that I could brace during contractions, and I labored for about an hour this way. My comfort dissipated slowly as the contractions built upon one another, bringing our son closer and closer to his debut. I moved onto my hands and knees and found myself pushing and growling involuntarily during certain contractions. I registered the entrance of Judy and Cece at the sound of my growls. Looking through photos, I see that someone also brought in the big towel and sheet warming bag and that Cece had her sterile packages all ready, waiting to see where I'd want to deliver. I didn't notice these things in the moment, or I would have realized that C was much closer than he seemed.

They asked if A wanted to use the tub and she was really uncertain.  We decided to get it ready so she could use it if she wanted to.  After a few extra tough contractions, she was ready to try.  It wasn't long before she started having some pushy contractions and her water broke. She kept laboring in the tub and would fight a pushing contraction every once an a while. I thought she was handling everything really well, but at one point she looked up and announced that she needed a pep talk.  Everyone burst into their own variation of  "You can do this!" Knowing that generic cheerleading wasn't her favorite type of encouragement, I leaned my head on her shoulder and quietly told her how amazing she had been doing and that she needed to trust herself and her body. We were going to do this, and she was amazing.

I think Judy asked me if I was planning a water birth, to which the answer was a resounding NO. It truly sounded lovely and peaceful... until I got to thinking about climbing OUT of the tub with a wet slippery newborn and crawling into a nice clean bed while soaking wet. That wasn't appealing, so I didn't want to birth in the tub. Chuckles echoed around the tub as Judy remarked that if I didn't want a water birth, I really needed to get out of the tub. My pushing contractions grew more frequent. Carefully, I stood out of the water and held onto two people's hands - but I'm not sure whose. My mom and Judy, maybe. I shuffled into the bathroom and sat on the toilet while the birthing stool was set up for me. As long as we've talked about and dreamed of creating our family, I thought birthing while squatting would be the way to go for me. It increases the size of your pelvic inlet and gives you more strength and power to push. Then I discovered that a birthing stool exists - enabling me to birth while squatting, but without having to hold up all my own weight.

While I labored on the toilet, there may have been some back and forth arguing between me and every woman in the room about whether or not I really did have to poop. I stubbornly resisted all their kind cajoling and quiet laughter and insisted on staying on the toilet longer, despite my contractions being nearly all pushing contractions at this point. Finally, they got me off the toilet and into the room to sit on the stool. They'd set me up with a lilac molded plastic stool, surrounded by waterproof pads. Teri helped me sit down on it but I quickly sprang up, in significant pain due to some lovely hemorrhoids I'd developed during the pregnancy. In order to use that stool I was going to have to sit directly on them, and I could not do it. I got up too fast and it caused a surprise contraction to hit halfway between sitting and standing, and I think that was the worst contraction I had the whole labor. I was so grateful when it subsided and I could hobble stubbornly back to my friend, the toilet.

The nurse checked in to see if she wanted to deliver in the tub or not, and since she didn't, she probably needed to get out. A wanted to try and go to the bathroom before actual pushing started, so we got her out, wrapped her in a warm blanket, and hobbled over to the toilet. Sitting on the toilet made her urge to push more insistent, but she was still in denial that we were already to that part. She told us that she was sure he would never fit.  

A different birthing stool was set up for me and eventually I was convinced to come back out and try it. It was a horseshoe-shaped metal frame; better for hemorrhoid avoidance. I perched my behind carefully on the back of the frame and hooked my knees around the outside corners of the front. Cece advised me to lean forward and grab hold of the upright supports on the stool for extra added power during contractions. At this point, my body gave me a brief rest of about five minutes so I could get more comfortable on the stool. T got a large warm towel and draped it over my shoulders.

My contractions were all pushing contractions, but since they were all still triple-peaking, it gave me opportunity to fit in several hearty pushes each time. While I was on the stool, E came in to check on me and I instantly knew that this was not the calm, quiet Mama I wanted to present her with. I was red-faced and breathing hard, and primal guttural growls were all that would escape my mouth. I wanted badly to hug her and tell her that I was okay, but I couldn't move. My mom wrapped her arms around me and gave a huge reassuring smile to E. I don't remember what she said, but I think E was okay. She wanted to go back to her grandfathers after that.

It seemed like every contraction at this point was a pushing contraction, so I told her she HAD to get off the toilet. She wasn't going to give birth to our son on the toilet. This finally convinced her to move to the birthing stool, but that was short lived. it was so uncomfortable that she stood back up too quickly and was stuck half way up in a contraction. I tried to hold as much of her body weight as I could until it subsided and then we hobbled back to the toilet.  They got another stool that was higher and had a smaller edge. After the next round of contractions, we convinced her to try this one.

It was much better and the midwife told her she should put her legs on the outside and bend down and pull on the upright bars.  This gave her a lot of power, but she was still fighting it a bit. E wanted to come see us, so she came in for a minute.  It was very overwhelming to her, so she didn't stay long.

I'd been really focused on pushing for only a few contractions when Cece told me she was going to touch me and apply some warmed oil to help stretch my perineum. I pushed into her touch and she said his head was right there, about to crown. I felt my skin tearing apart to make room for him. Teri exclaimed that the baby had a lot of hair. I pushed again, and Cece told me to go easy.

"Just pant a little bit and his head will be born."
"No way."
"Here he is! Now, just push gently and his body will follow."
...
"Holy shit!"
"No, that's a baby!" (cue more laughter)

If that seems sudden, well... it was. I didn't expect him so quickly. Truth be told, I didn't expect him at all.

I obviously knew I was pregnant, but it was really difficult to come to terms with the fact that this growing belly, these kicks and flutters and hiccups were going to produce a human being. The end of my pregnancy was so busy and we spent so much time wondering about how the timing was going to work, that I had pretty much no time to daydream about this tiny person, and so he didn't seem real until he came out and Cece had to gently remind me that he was a baby, he had arrived, and I needed to pick him up.

Once she had gone, the midwife told A to listen to what her body was telling her to do and she finally was able to stop fighting the contractions and work with them instead. After about 2 rounds of contractions (which had never stopped double and triple peaking) the midwife announce that he was starting to crown.  I looked and saw a mess of dark hair. This wasn't really what we expected. We are in touch with a lot of the families that used the same donor as us and the babies were pretty split between having hair when they were born (like E) and not.  Since A and her brother were both born with very little hair, that was what we expected.  I remember vividly when I was pushing E out and the midwife announced that she saw hair.  I thought "Of course, we knew she had hair," and then realized how weird it would be if she didn't look how we expected.  With this in mind, I knew I had to give A some time to prepare, so I told her.

It was probably 2 more pushes before the midwife reached down and told A to pant through the next one and his head would be born. Then she told her to push out the shoulders.  I think she should have included the word "small" when she told her to push again, because she was not prepared for how quickly he came out the rest of the way.  She held onto his head and let his legs fall onto all of the pads below. Everyone was in shock. The she told A that she needed to pick up her baby.

The moment my fingers touched his warm, slippery body and brought him to my chest to hug and kiss for the first time, my heart broke wide open and immediately knit itself back together again, just a little bit larger than it had been. Of course there was room for this perfect creature, this amazing child with a full head of black hair and a widow's peak like mine, who fit just right into my arms. I was incredulous. I was still in disbelief that he'd come out of me, that my pregnancy was definitely over and THIS was the person coming home and joining our family.

I remember the moment of E's birth with a great sense of relief, exhaustion, and disbelief.  Watching our son being born, I think those were all still there but in very different ways (and far less exhaustion). I also felt so proud of how well A had done. The moment of his birth was so much more emotionally overwhelming to me. I was in such a daze after E's birth, so it was very different to be present.

Judy gave him a quick toweling while I hugged him, then we scooted carefully into bed and had warm sheets tucked around us. Cece asked who was to cut his umbilical cord. We had decided that my mom would get to cut it, but I guess we forgot to tell her that part because seeing her face light up with joy when the scissors were handed to her just filled my heart with love all over again. She cut the rubbery cord, separating our bodies completely for the first time. T slid in beside me and got her first glimpse of our son's face.

Judy and Cece got out the headlamp and the suture kit to do my repair, but I was floating on a cloud of bliss, drinking in all the details of my son's face. His forehead was wrinkled in a perpetual look of disapproval, complete with furrowed brow. His lips were deep red and perfectly pouty. I noticed his little shoulders had tufts of hair on them, and I stroked his soft wrinkled skin as the tears leaked gently out of the corners of my eyes.

E came in first and clambered up into T's lap to meet her new brother. Her face was awash with wonder as she saw this tiny dark-haired bundle in my arms. Her eyes lit up and her smile stretched her lips wide. Warmth spilled from my eyes as I fell in love with my daughter all over again.

We helped A over to the bed and all cuddled up inside. His quick descent left A with a significant tear that the midwife needed to repair. Someone went and got E, and she climbed up in bed with us to meet her new brother. 

We had become a family of 4.

Then it was our fathers' and my brother's turn to come in. They filed in with bright shining faces and I felt love and joy coming from each of them. Everyone took a turn holding C, and he was passed carefully from protective embrace to protective embrace. There is no better demonstration of how your family will protect your children than the way they tenderly hold them when they're very first born. There was fierce pride and blazing happiness in that room as we all met this wonderful child.

Everyone who had been waiting came in and we snapped some quick photos before getting our son back to A's arms so he could be skin-to-skin.

Surrounded by love and strong, kind women, our son entered this world and this family. I couldn't have done it without Judy and Cece's reassurances and confidence, nor without the unwavering love from our mothers. But T was my light in the darkness, leading me home. She always is that for me. I needed every single person and the unique things they each had to offer me. Thank you all for being there for me and C. We love you.

It was just the birth we had hoped for, surrounded by a group of strong women all lending their love and support.  It was surreal and wonderful and awe-inspiring. 

Sue's Perspective

While preparing to write my recollection of C's birth I realized all my thoughts really weren’t about C, they were about his mother - my daughter. I believe that God watches over us, but most especially babies, this baby. I remember feeling joy and peace about this sweet boy who was joining our family. I really wasn’t concerned about him. I wasn’t worried about him being born in a birth center instead of a hospital. After all, E’s birth was so great and the birth center experience was eye-opening.  I wasn’t worried he’d be healthy. T and E did fantastically! I had total faith that he was going to join us, perfect, healthy, and a blessed little boy. All of those things turned out true.

When T called to tell us that A had been in labor all night and that we should start our 2 hour drive south, I could not have been more excited. Very quickly, bat out of hell turned to a headless chicken.  Putting the dogs out and then letting them in. Putting the keys in the fridge and then looking for them. Getting dressed as if I was going to work, then undressing - bra underwear and all, while Mike watched strangely, why are you naked, I thought we were leaving? Huh, well I have no idea.

Deep down in my soul, I knew this was a spectacular day. Yes, C was coming, but A was having a baby. My daughter who was destined to be a mom and have a family was giving birth. Would she be calm and focused or would the pain be more than she could take? Could I watch my daughter be in pain? Would she compare her experience to T’s? All those things created this magical nerve wracking whirlwind. Halfway there, I remembered her as a baby, our incredible miracle. So much excitement to have a baby. And now, her baby is coming into this world and I know she’ll be having her own hopes and wishes for him. I am positive that she will also be met with the most incredible love ever experienced. How amazing and brief the time between the two happenings.

Mike and I arrive at A and T’s home to find them calm, A leaning on a chair, then moving to the sink, breathing deeply through the pain. I thought she was calm but clearly having contractions. T was getting some things together, and then we learned her folks were due to arrive soon and the details of what was to happen with E, who was still asleep. A looked so great, with her hair in a French braid, she was ready for work but so peaceful. I wanted to touch her, hug her, hold her but she was so calm and in a Zen place, I gently put my arm around her, asked how she was doing. She was good. She was ready to go to the birth center. T’s folks arrived and plans of who was staying, what cars would be driven and the timing got worked out.  Of course, I assumed it was still very early on in her labor, but once we arrived at the birth center and she was checked by the midwife we were all amazed to learn she was indeed 8 cm dilated. I was stunned. Shocked. Transition had happened, it would not be long. A and T would be parents again, my three girls would soon be a family of four.

The time went by quickly as A breathed heavy, moved around, groaned, moved some more, and then the guttural impending baby-sounds started. While I’m sure it wasn’t going by fast enough for her, it flew by for me. I can only remember one time where A struggled and worry was creeping in that he couldn’t fit, questioning would he be born vaginally? She was reminded by Nurse Judy (OMG, where was she when I had kids!?) to stay present, feel what was happening in that very moment and not to worry about later. Know that he will fit, but stay present in this contraction, this breath. Which was beautiful advice. While T’s mom snapped photos and T supported A at every step of the way, I tried to help and do whatever else was needed. Sometimes it was to hand something, sometimes it was only words. All the while I could only think about the fact that at any moment A was going to have this precious child in her arms.

While A was laboring and moving into a new position, E came in the room. I think it was a big surprise to us all. For A, the contraction and the sight of E was a lot. (It felt that way to me.) I instantly smiled at E and greeted her while sharing that the baby was going to come soon, but that her mama was okay. Keeping her calm was important but it was all completely true, and not long after E was back in the waiting room with her poppa, grandpa, and uncle. She seemed very satisfied. Along with T, A loves her more than anything in this world and that was one area of concern; if E would be scared to see her mama in pain; mama is the best calmer so, how would that go?? But, crisis averted, E just wanted to say Hi and then retreat back to being the center of attention to three men who adore her.

A tried the next position and another. In hindsight, I think it was getting to be push time, but, well, who knew? A special chair or birthing stool was offered and A sat right down in agreement. The midwife could feel the baby’s head and in what seemed like 3 seconds, he was born. I was shocked, there he was being caught and then his mama holding him. It was wonderful, he made it into this world, now at last on the outside of A. It was glorious, magnificent, and life-altering. A, my precious sweet girl, gave birth to her precious sweet boy.

This kind of laboring and birth was so new to me that at times I felt like I was literally hanging on, trying not to have worrisome thoughts, trying to be present, appreciate every moment. Like right after he was born, I felt this panic, how do we get her and him to the bed. There was blood everywhere in this small space, she’ll slide and fall. Heck, we’ll all slide and fall. We worked like busy bees around her and then she stood, took some guided steps backward and was sitting and then lying in bed with her boy. Just like every other concern, it disappeared into thin air and what was to be, was.

The midwife asked who was going to cut the cord, and I don’t think this had been decided. But as soon as I heard the words I wanted the honor. When I was asked, I happily agreed and it was C’s gran who cut his cord. Woohoo! I felt so proud, thrilled and loved to be able to help in this way. His long beautiful little body rested on A while they were both cleaned up. I leaned over and looked at his little face thinking, I love you, my sweetheart, I’m so thankful you are here. This is going to be some spectacular life. I could have just stared at him for hours. A even had to remind me that T hadn’t seen his face yet. We all balanced moments between marvel and helping clean/wipe/warm A and our new boy. The amount of blood was getting to me and the worry creeping in, but after a bit of air and talking to Judy (the most awesome nurse) I was back to my faith place; it would all be okay, A was fine.

When E came in the room, I watched this beautiful little girl take it all in; her brother, her mama, her mom, her grandma, me and the nurses/midwife. She was quiet but eager to see her new brother. Watching that moment was incredible; two miracles in this world meeting for the first time. I remembered A meeting her brother, Hayden; it was the same. That’s when my thoughts shifted from A to C and witnessing the beginning of these two siblings life together. It is one of the great blessings of my life. Tears welled out of pure joy. My daughter had a baby and now E has a baby brother. What started out as the day A gave birth grew into watching my grandchildren bonding. Maybe he didn’t have his name, C A M D E N, by that point, but his presence, his life was felt by his mothers, grandparents, uncle, and most especially his sister. 

The Big Announcement

Yesterday was our deadline.  By yesterday, we were supposed to come up with some clever photographic announcement.  Yesterday came and went and still inspiration was lacking.  Instead here you go---

We are going to have another baby!!!!!

A is almost 12 weeks pregnant and due mid-February.  We are very excited and rather exhausted.  It's interesting to have swapped roles and go through her first pregnancy while chasing an almost-three-year-old.

Yesterday was our second appointment at the Birth Center. We arrived and were brought back to an exam room pretty quickly.  We were going to meet one of the few midwives we didn't know from my pregnancy. For the first time, we had to wait. And wait.  It was the first time we actually had to wait to be seen, so we were a little impatient.  Eventually she came and asked us the usual questions.  Then the part we were waiting for- the heartbeat. Since we know the date of conception, we skip the dating ultrasound and have to wait to hear a heartbeat on the Doppler.  Once we heard the heartbeat we would feel comfortable announcing to everyone and making it "Facebook official," so to speak. 

So the midwife dug around A's abdomen with the Doppler again and again. After a few minutes, I started getting nervous. Its not uncommon to have a hard time finding the baby this early, but it still was hard to not fear the worst.  She asked if we wanted to wait until the next appointment and try again or do a quick ultrasound.  We opted for the ultrasound. 

It only took a bit of searching to find our little one squirming around, heart happily beating away. And then it was over. And we didn't have the cute little print out to post in lieu of the clever announcement photo we were still lacking. Oh well.

So in case you're wondering how we got here, I've been blogging all along, and saving them to post when we made our announcement.  If you start at this blog, and read "Newer Posts" from there, you can read about the journey we've had over the last 6 months!

One Birth, Two Stories

We decided that we would each write about our experience of E's birth separately. The first story is from A, the second from me. 

Waiting for Ever

After two weeks of waking up with one or two contractions a night, both of us were impatient and tired of feeling like the baby would never come.  We were at home together Friday night, when T suggested we get frozen yogurt – for the second time that day, she admitted.  A friend of ours, Kate, went with us and was going to pick our dog up that night, as she volunteered to keep him at her house for the first week or so after the baby came.  Obviously, we were hoping she would arrive soon.  How soon, we didn’t realize, because T was sitting at the table after eating her frozen yogurt and got this funny look on her face, and announced, “I think my water might have just broken.”

It took Kate and me a second to register what T had just said, but then I felt pieces of excitement bubble up through the doubt.  Kate picked up Manni, and T and I called the birth center to find out what they wanted us to do. 

The midwife called back a few minutes later, telling us to come in for some testing to confirm that T’s water had broken.  After completing a few of their ways to test for amniotic fluid, with a puzzled tone, the midwife told us she was going to say that T’s water had not, in fact, broken, BUT that she wasn’t actually convinced of it.  She advised us to go home and get some rest and check up with the midwife on call the following day if things were still gushing.  So at 10:30 that night, we went home and climbed into bed.  Surprisingly, we both fell straight asleep – maybe our bodies knew things we didn’t. 

Sometime around one am, I felt T rubbing my arm to wake me up.  I called my parents to tell them to begin their two hour drive down; T’s labor had officially begun. 

I felt surprisingly calm about the whole thing, which was unexpected.  We got up and did all the things that it seems people do when they’re in labor – T took a shower, we went on a walk, we hung out together and watched one of our favorite movies, so on and so forth.  My parents arrived a couple hours later and T was handling her contractions well.  My dad promptly retired to the guest room to catch some sleep, and a little while later, my mom joined him.  Around five am, our enthusiasm for labor was replaced by tiredness so we also tried to get some shut-eye.  Contractions were in T’s back and it was hard for her to lie in bed, so I’d push my knuckles into her lower back during them, and we’d sleep when the contraction would abate.  We spent about an hour this way, until lying in bed was no longer possible for T. 

As the sun peeked over the mountains, I thought to myself, “Our daughter is going to arrive today.”  It was an unfathomable idea, that finally that baby in T’s belly would come to meet us.  That soon T’s pregnancy would be over.  We stood together on the cusp of a life-altering experience. 

The hours of the morning passed us by, as T’s contractions grew closer together and more intense.  We used seemingly the whole house as our tools for labor, changing positions and moving about our home, waiting for Everleigh. 

I called the midwife mid-morning, to see when she wanted us to come to the center.  She spoke with me and then with T, and since we lived so close, she advised us to just stay home as long as T was handling the contractions, or until her water broke or she felt like she had to push. 

Just after eleven am, T’s contractions went from manageable to overwhelming as she experienced a set of intensely close and difficult contractions, right atop one another.  I don’t know that I’ll ever forget it – she was leaned over the couch onto her body pillow, tears streaming down her face as contractions crashed over her.  I’m unaccustomed to a T who isn’t in control, and seeing her unable to ride the contractions out really hurt me.  I couldn’t fix it, I felt like T was alone and adrift and there was nothing I could do.  Nothing, except call the birth center and tell them we were coming in NOW, NOW we are coming. 

In moments, my parents and I jumped into action.  Dad got the car started and loaded up, I was still on the phone with the birth center trying to convince the answering service that yeah, my wife really was in labor and we really were coming in.  My mom followed us around, picking up all the bits and pieces we were about to forget and after a contraction ended I ushered T into the car.  We drove the extremely short distance to the birth center and headed inside.  T had to stop for a contraction in the hallway before we finally made it into our room. 

The nurse wanted to check T’s progress.  She told us that T was 100% effaced… but just one centimeter dilated.  My heart broke.  We were so tired.  T was exhausted, and had been laboring for nearly twelve hours already and to only be one centimeter dilated… I think we both felt like Evie was never going to come out. 

Somehow, we distracted ourselves with settling into the room and continuing to labor.  During T’s labor, time wasn’t marked in minutes or hours, it was marked in contractions and expletives and progress made and popsicles consumed and the darkening sky.  It felt like eternity; it felt like a moment. 

During the afternoon, we labored in the giant birth tub together.  We labored in bed, on piles of pillows, sitting backwards on the toilet, leaning our bodies together, sitting on the birth ball, everything we could think of to help T get comfortable.  After we got out of the tub, T’s labor gave us a short reprieve and let us nap together in bed for ten minutes or so.  Those ten minutes of sleep were the most wondrous minutes I think I’d ever felt. 

The midwife encouraged T to get out of bed and sit upright, help the baby move down and keep her labor progressing.  T dragged herself out of bed to sit on the ball, and the moment she did, her water broke.  I threw a celebration party in my head, knowing that things were moving along, but T was reserved about announcing her water broke.  She looked fragile in that moment, concern creasing her forehead as she anticipated the increase in intensity.  I wanted to hold her and tell her that everything was going to be fine, but T was busy focusing. 

I think in that moment, something changed.  I don’t know exactly what, but it felt to me that T’s focus changed, her drive increased.  She knew that baby was getting ready to come out. 

Before much longer, T was feeling the urge to bear down and push.  The midwife wanted to check her, make sure her cervix was completely dilated.  Bad news: she was not fully dilated.  We couldn’t understand how T had been laboring for so long and was ready to push, but her body wasn’t.  For the next hour, the midwife told T to breathe through the contractions without pushing.  It looked like torture.  I watched as T’s abdomen tightened down rhythmically.  I looked into her eyes as her body begged her to push and she fought it with every ounce of her strength.  I held her hand and I told her that I believed in her; I knew she could do it. 

Finally the midwife came back in to see how T was doing.  The horrifying news was that no progress had been made over that hour.  The midwife gave us a few options: take some narcotics, which would relieve T of her urge to push and allow her a break, or she could keep breathing through the contractions and see if that did anything, or she could allow the midwife to try and stretch her cervix over the baby’s head during a contraction. 

We decided to let the midwife stretch T’s cervix during the next contraction.  She was able to successfully stretch the cervix another centimeter, and another half, and finally one side of the cervix was off Evie’s head.  The midwife worked and worked, trying to get that cervix to stretch over.  After a few contractions, all that was left was what the midwife referred to as a “knot” of cervix that wouldn’t move.  She told T that she could try pushing a few contractions, see if that would do anything.  She left the room to let T try. 

T’s mom and I helped T get into a squatting position, because that’s one position we’d already decided T wanted to try pushing in.  After a few contractions, T decided this wasn’t ideal, so back onto the bed we went. 

Our midwife came back in to see how we were doing.  After doing a check, she announced that although the cervix hadn’t moved off E's head, T was bringing the baby down with it.  She said that it wasn’t ideal, but that if T could push the baby down despite the bit of cervix, that she should just keep pushing.  This was the beginning of the end, and now T finally had something she could actively DO. 

T lay back and pushed like a Mack truck.  Everyone in the room was awed with how powerful her pushes were, how quickly she moved the baby down even with the cervix hampering her efforts. 

Before we knew it, the midwife was exclaiming that she could see the baby’s hair. 

I watched over my wife as she moved our daughter millimeter by millimeter into the world.  I carefully wiped her face and her underarms and the pits behind her knees with a cool cloth as her complexion purpled with sheer effort.  I stroked her hair, and held her leg, and told her that I could see Evie’s head.  I watched my daughter crown, and I watched T work at slowly birthing her head, and I watched E’s slippery grey body slide out. Outside of myself, I watched from above the room as life as we knew it changed. 

Tears dripped off my cheeks as the midwife lay our baby on T’s body and cut her umbilical cord.  Her cord was really short, so we waited while the cord was cut and the midwife and nurse rubbed the baby’s body down and tickled her feet to get her crying.  Evie blinked her eyes a few times and gave a small cough before she really opened up her lungs and let out a good wail.  She cried as T finally got to pull her up onto her chest, and as T and Evie were wrapped up in warm blankets I sat back and took a good look at my new family. 

There really isn’t any way to describe the emotions crowding my heart at that moment.  I was overwhelmed with love, with amazement at T’s strength, with gratefulness for a healthy wife and a healthy daughter, with disbelief that our daughter had finally arrived, and a million other thoughts floating around these central ones. 

In some ways, I still can’t believe our child is here.  I knew I would love her, but what I didn’t know was how intense my love for her would be, nor how fast it would grow.  I feel differently about her than I’ve ever felt about anyone before, which I wasn’t sure would happen.  I wondered if I would love her like I loved our foster children – but there simply isn’t anything comparable.  She may not have grown in me, but the moment she was born, I knew her.  I am filled with overwhelming love for her and my love for T has only continued to blossom.  I am so excited to step into this new life. 

Wishing on a Blue Moon

My entire pregnancy, I had been convinced she wouldn’t be here until after her due date - until I started noticing changes in my body.  I had been waking up with contractions that were more crampy than Braxton-Hicks, my skin became really oily, insomnia seemed to be back, and the dog was following me around looking worried and sitting on my feet.  I know none of this really means anything, but I felt like things were starting to change. After a few days, it was obvious this was just the new norm, I was still pregnant, and our little one seemed content to wait.

It was the day before Evie’s due date, August 31^st.  Even though I was trying to positive about still being pregnant, I was disappointed that we weren’t going to be able to tell our little girl she was born under the Blue Moon.  It was silly, but I really liked the idea and it was disappointing when it became obvious she was going to keep us waiting.  I was texting with my mom about feeling conflicted and she suggested writing a blog, which was a great idea.  Getting it all written down helped me remember that I believe babies will come when they are ready most of the time. She just wasn’t ready.

With my ideals in mind, I left my last day of work and headed to my appointment with the midwife. The midwife of the day was Judy.  It was the first time I had met her, but a friend of mine had her for Centering and said she was fantastic.  I immediately liked her (this can be said about almost everyone at the Birth Center).  It was another uneventful appointment, but at the end she offered to do a cervical exam.  I skeptically asked if it would really tell her anything and she said “No,” but explained that if I was starting to dilate she could sweep the membrane and it may help get things moving along. I declined and decided if I was still pregnant at our next Centering class I would let Fran do the sweep.

I immediately regretted my decision, emotionally, if not logically. I came home and moped around a bit.  I was feeling very stressed about being on maternity leave and still being pregnant.  What would happen if she waited another week and I had to go back to work and she was only 7 weeks old?  8 weeks seem so much more acceptable than 7.  A came home and I just couldn’t handle it anymore; I broke down and cried.  I was so ready to be done with pregnancy and I felt so guilty for feeling that way.  I was also hungry, which is never a good thing when I am already emotional. I calmed down enough to feel like being around friends may help me get out of my funk, so A started texting people to find a dinner date.

We met our friend Kate for dinner and went to get frozen yogurt. It was a nice night so we sat outside to eat our dessert.  We stay and talked for a while after we had finished eating.  The moon was big and beautiful, I stopped paying attention to the conversation and just watched the moon and enjoyed the night.  I felt much more at peace than I had all day. Then I was startled back to the reality. I looked at A and told her that I thought my water had broken, not a lot, but something was going on down there.  I went inside to the bathroom and confirmed that there was some kind of fluid, but there definitely wasn’t a lot. My contractions had also changed to the crampy type that had been waking me up. We got in the car and took Kate back to hers.  She followed us home to pick up the dog so we wouldn’t have to worry about him while Evie was brand new. 

We called the Birth Center and talked to Maya, and she said to go ahead and come in so she could run some tests to see if it was amniotic fluid or not. Unfortunately all of the tests came back inconclusive. She said she wasn’t convinced it wasn’t my water, but she was going to call it a very watery mucus plug. She sent us home, told us to get some sleep, and said if labor hadn’t started and it was still watery to call back in the morning.

I was amazed we were actually able to fall asleep, but it was very short-lived.  After about two hours I woke up with contractions. I got up to go to the bathroom and checked the time on my phone when I got back.  It was 12:30am. Another contraction started so I started the contraction counter app on my phone.  They were still pretty mild, but coming every five minutes so I woke A up. After about half an hour they were getting closer together and more intense and we decided it was time to call A’s parents so they could drive down from Phoenix. I took and shower and braided my hair and then A suggested going for a walk.

It was about 2:30am and we set out in the moonlight, it was so bright we didn’t even need a flashlight. After having to stop for a few contractions I decided I really didn’t want to be walking anymore. We started timing the contractions again and they had slowed to 7 minutes apart, but were still getting stronger.  We got home and I decided to have some soup while I still had an appetite and we put our favorite romantic movie on, Imagine Me and You. After a while A’s parents, Sue and Mike, got to our house, I felt sort of bad we had called them so soon since it was now obvious it was going to be a while.

We started another movie, Coyote Ugly (we decided it was a Piper Perabo kind of night). A’s parents went to the guest room to get some rest and we decided it didn’t sound like a bad idea.  I could feel the contractions in my back so A put pressure on my sacrum.  I was able to sleep just a little between contractions.  After about an hour I was feeling restless and got out of bed.  A made me some tea and we finished our movie. The contractions were still only about 5 minutes apart, every once and a while there would be a really intense one and they would space out for a little while. The whole time I had been losing bits of the mucus plug and while everyone else was eating breakfast, the rest of it came out. It made for great breakfast conversation.

Around 10:30am we decided to call the midwife on call because they were finally only 3-4 minutes apart and that was when we were told to call.  Judy was the midwife on call and she was at the hospital with a woman who was already pushing. She talked to A and then to me. After telling her we lived really close to the birth center she recommended staying home until I was ready to push, my water broke, or I wasn’t able to handle the contractions any more. This was a bit discouraging.  I really wanted to be told we were getting really close and to come in right away. 

After about another hour something changed and I had 3 strong contractions really close together.  I got completely overwhelmed and started crying.  So A decided it was time to go.  She called the answering service and told them to let the midwife know we were ready to go to the birth center.  A and her parents started packing the car. A few minutes later A got a call from the hospital, they had a message from Judy: “Come in.”  As soon as the next contraction was over we went to the car. My contractions had slowed down now, so we made it to the birth center between contractions. 

The nurse (also named Judy) checked me and told me the good news was that I was completely effaced, but only one centimeter dilated.  I had been in labor for 11 hours and I was only one centimeter.  I know that I threw up at some point.  After a few more contraction, I asked the nurse to fill up the tub. A and I got in.  It was so deep, I felt like I was going to float away. I hooked my arms under A’s legs and we stayed that way for a while. The water definitely helped with the intensity of the contractions and I started dozing off between them. The water started getting cold and my hands were very water-logged, much to my dismay.  I turned around so A was keeping my feet down instead and we added more hot water.  I had someone get me a dry washcloth to dry my hands and I tried keeping my hands dry for a while.

After a while things were intense enough that the water wasn’t enough to make it bearable; the contractions were longer and stronger.  Sleeping between them wasn’t making things any easier, I would wake up and it would be too had to relax, but I was so exhausted. During a particularly strong one I hit the tub and yelled; the midwife heard and came in.  She checked me again and I was only to 4cm. She said my bag of waters was bulging and during the next contraction she could feel me dilate to 5cm.  I think it was around 3pm.  Judy wanted me to get out of the tub to get something to eat and drink and go to the bathroom.  This sounded like the worst idea in the world to me. After a few more contractions I finally gave in.  A and I had been holding hands under water and her waterlogged hands bothered me so much that I just wanted to be dry again.  I stood up and immediately regretted my decision.  I had moved too fast and going from the weightlessness of water to standing gave me a very strong contraction. Luckily it was short and I very slowly tried again.  Someone wrapped me in a thick sheet and they helped to me walk to the toilet.

I sat backwards on it and leaned against A. My mother-in-law, Sue, got me a popsicle and fed me bites everyone once and a while.  I liked the toilet because there were bars on the wall I could grab during contractions. The birth classes we had taken focused on completely relaxing, but I had stopped being able to do that hours before. I found that if I was able to grab something with my hands I was able to relax my core better. I had also given up on keeping my face relaxed. If I pursed my lips and focused on blowing the contractions away I was able to take longer, deeper breaths. A asked if she could run and use the bathroom, but a contraction was starting so I asked her to stay. A little later Sue took over standing behind me and A got to take a short break to use the bathroom and grab some food.

The edge of the seat was digging into my legs and I finally gave up on the position.  I hobbled to the bed and tried lying down again.  I had a lot of back pain during the next contraction, it made me cry out and Judy jumped on the bed and put pressure on my sacrum. After it was over she checked me again and said I was to 7cm but that her head was behind my pubic bone so I needed to have some contractions while I was leaning back.  They put a pad on the birth ball and put the rocking chair behind it for A to sit on. I asked for some socks because my feet were cold. During the first contraction in this position my water broke.  I had heard so many stories about contractions getting stronger after the water breaks that I was afraid, but the exact opposite happened. They became manageable, they were still intense, but I could handle them a bit better.  Unfortunately I needed a new pair of socks, so A gave me hers.

It didn’t take long before they became overwhelming again and were one on top of the other. I got back on the bed and but barely made it before the next one. It came with another gush of fluid, my socks were wet again and we were out of socks. I was having a hard time; I was hot, then cold and shaking. They wrapped my wet feet in warm towels and fanned my face.  Judy said it was transition, which gave me a little bit of hope. After a few more contractions I got a little bit of a break and fell asleep.

When I woke up I felt like pushing.  Judy checked and I was only 8cm so I was not allowed to push. I writhed and screamed and did everything I could not to push.  Every once and a while, when I felt completely out of control, Judy would tell me to just push a little and then blow through the rest.  After an hour or so of this she checked me again; I hadn't made any progress. I couldn't believe it.  She said we had three options: keep doing what we were doing and see if I made any progress, take some pain meds so I could sleep and not feel the need to push, or let her try to push the cervix over the baby’s head during a contraction while I was pushing. I couldn't decide and asked A what I should do.  She said we should try the third option. I knew it was the right option, but I was terrified.  I had just started a contraction and Judy said we would do it during the next one and I told her to go ahead.  She got me to 9cm, and then one side was completely gone.  She said there was just a knot of it left on one side, not even a lip, just a knot. I turned onto my side, hoping gravity would help, but the knot wouldn’t go away.  She told me if I felt like I had to push, I could try pushing for a little while, but only if I had to, not if I just wanted to. Then she left.

I had planned on pushing while squatting, so that is what I wanted to try.  A and my mom would lift me into the rocking chair between the contractions.  I was so exhausted that this wasn’t working. I couldn’t relax well on the rocking chair, so I got back into bed on my side.  A got into bed and supported my leg that was against the bed while my mom supported the one in the air. After a few more, Judy came back and checked.  With some surprise in her voice she said that the knot was still there, but I was making progress pushing, my cervix was just coming down with the baby’s head.  I got the go-ahead to continue pushing.  Since I was so tired, I kept my eyes closed and relaxed between.  After about 30 minutes I happened to open them and realized I couldn’t focus on anything.  I freaked out a bit and Judy told me to stop pushing with my face and had someone get a cool washcloth to put over my eyes.  This was harder than it seemed, and soon I was being told to push harder and I was back to pushing with my face. I decided that I didn’t care, my face would recover. 

Soon Judy was able to see the head and told us she had hair.  I almost laughed. I had been so convinced she would have a full head of dark hair like I did that I was worried she wouldn’t. I had this image in my mind that went with the little being growing inside of me, how would I feel if she looked different? Judy told us we would get to meet her before long and this gave me a new burst of energy.  Judy coached me to push more effectively and made sure I kept breathing. Everyone got really excited as they could start to see the progress and we got close to crowning. As she crowned, Judy was calling out instructions on when and how hard to push and she used warm oil and warm cloths to help me not tear.  With a feeling of relief, her head came out, and a few short pushes later, the rest of her followed. It was 7:37pm.

 They put her on my belly, but wouldn’t let me move her because her cord was too short. I reached down and felt her head while a new nurse wiped her off and tried to get her to cry. She finally started crying and I could feel them messing with the cord.  She had pooped right after she was born so they had to clean that off of me. Once her cord was cut I pulled her on my chest and the nurse finished cleaning her off and put a silly hat on her head.  While I tried to calm her down and get her to breastfeed, a lot of other things happened but I didn’t pay much attention.  I know they almost gave me a shot of Pitocin to deliver the placenta, but then I finally had some more contractions and was able to deliver it. Everyone kept trying to get me to put ice on my eyes, but I wanted to be able to see even if I was cross-eyed.  Judy told me I had some minor tears, but only one needed stitches.  She said lidocaine would hurt more than the actual stitches so she wasn’t going to use it, I really didn’t care. A and I just kept looking at our perfect little daughter. 

Eventually I realized A hadn’t been able to catch her or cut the cord like we had planned, so that meant she still hadn’t been able to hold her. I think she was waiting for me to ask, so I did.  They were so beautiful together. She took E’s hat off and we just took in our beautiful little girl. Eventually we let the grandparents take turns holding her. My dad went to get everyone some food and we got to have some time as a family of three while everyone else ate at a table just outside of the room. I ate some of A’s fries, but she wasn’t eating any.  I kept trying to get her to, but her stomach was upset. 

We decided we should put some clothes on E; she protested and the nurse thought this was a good time to get all of her stats. A took the diaper back off and let them do an exam.  She was 7lbs, 6ozs and 20.5” long. She also gave us some paperwork to fill out. After a little bit, everyone left for the night.  We had to stay for at least 4 hours for observation. We decided to go to sleep and figure out what to do when we woke up.

Just before 11:30pm we were woken up by E’s cry.  She had been sleeping on A’s chest. This time she was much more interested in nursing so I sat with her in the rocking chair and A got our things together and filled out the papers. The nurse came in to do our discharge paperwork and exam. By 12:30am we were back at home; it had been a crazy 24 hours.