BirthCut

VBAC Stories (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) 

Gracie's Birth -  Second child. Hospital VBAC.

A Surrogacy UBAC  - A beautiful story of an unassisted birth by a surrogant mother.

Elisa's VBAC Birth Story  - Hospital VBAC of second child.

Thalea's Birth Story (My Perfect VBAC) -  Successful Birth Center waterbirth VBAC of fourth child after the 'dreaded' inverted T incision. Proof it can be done!

Oliver James' HBAC - HBAC of second child.

Sarah's Birth - Unnassisted birth (UBAC) of second child.

Anya Belle's Birth - a beautiful HWBAC story.

A Simple Kind of Birth - Powerful UBAC story of second child. With pictures.

My HBAC Story  - Successful HBAC a month past her due date.

Leila & Sarah's Birth Story - Inspiring story of a HBAC of twins!

Anna Cate's Birth Story - Awesome birth story of second child.  A successful VBAC in a hospital with a VBAC ban!

Sophia's Birth - One of the most amazing birth stories I have ever read. The mother writes: "This may rank among the longest birth stories ever written, but if you get through it you will get to some killer action sequences, car chases--one action adventure extravaganza, I promise! And at the end, a breech homebirth after 2 cesareans and 55 hours of labor."

Jules Michael Birth Story - Hospital VBAC of second child. It is a perfect example of how hard women have to fight for a vaginal birth in a hospital--and yet still be victorious.

Kaibyn's Birth (And My Rebirth As A Mother)  - VBAC birth story of second child.

A HBAC Story   - a beautiful homebirth after cesarean. Second child.

Gabriel's Birth - Homebirth after cesarean of second child.

The Birth of Hannah Love - Homebirth after cesarean of second child. Shoulder Dystocia successfully resolved at home. 

A Birth/Love Story - An HBAC at 45 weeks

My VBAC Story - A waterbirth hospital VBAC - the hospital's first! 

Vann's Birth Story - HBAC of second child.

My VBAC Story - Hospital VBAC of third child.

Caleb's Birth -Homebirth with hospital transfer after 40 hours of labor.  VBAC at hospital. 

Anna's Birth  - Hospital VBAC of third child. 

Sophia's Birth Story - Hospital VBAC.

Grant's Birth - Hospital VBAC.

HBA2C Story - A story of one mother's journey to a HBA2C  (Homebirth after 2 cesareans).

Lisa-Marie's Birth Stories - The UBAC birth stories of a second and third child.

Hana's Birth - Hospital VBAC of second child.

Journey to HBA2C - One mother's journey to a HBA2C (homebirth after 2 cesareans)

Patrick's Home Birth After Cesarean - An HBAC birth story, with beautiful pictures.

 I woke up on the 19th, and felt like I had to pee.  I tossed the idea around in my head for about 15 minutes, and at 7:15 am, I got up to go to the bathroom.  When I got inside the bathroom door, my water broke.  I am very glad I was wearing a pad, even tho it soaked through!!  I cleaned up, got a fresh pad and some clean under garments, and woke Christopher up.  Noah woke up at about 7:30 am, we got him dressed, got him some breakfast, and at 7:45, my contractions started getting painful, and regular at 8 minutes apart.  They weren't too painful, but they were in my back, and Gracie was so low that I could barely walk.  We got Noah to our neighbor's and headed to the hospital.  I felt so sad walking away from Noah.  I have never missed him so much in my life.  He was happy and playing with our neighbor's son Liam, so it wasn't because he was upset, I just really wanted him to be with me, but I also didn't want him to be scared and see me in pain, so we left him.  I had contractions all the way to the hospital.  Still not too painful, I could breathe through them really well. We got to the hospital, went to L&D,got there at 8:33 am, and I told the nurse that my water broke.  The doctor on call was kinda rude, and we were about to call my regular OB, when the moron doctor tested my fluid.  At first he said my water broke, then he changed his mind, and went and talked to my specialist, and told him I was 4 cm, and having contractions.  The specialist told him to admit me.   I asked the moron doctor to page Capt. Elliott (My regular OB) and he said he did, and she would be in around noon.  She got there at 10 am. My OB told me what probably happened is that my water DID in fact break, it was a forebag, and that Gracie had moved down so far since that bag broke, that I wasn't leaking anymore.  So she checked my cervix, and I was a good 5 cm, and she asked if she could try to get more water out, and she got a lil bit.  The nurse set up my IV and took my blood sugar (it was 77, but they put glucose water in my IV just to keep my levels stable) and put me on the monitors.  Since I had a c-section with Noah, my OB wanted me to stay on the monitors, but gave me permission to have free range of the room, as long as the monitor could go with me.  I got out of bed and sat on my birthing ball while Christopher had to go to the admissions office, and let them know I was there.  I was ok with that, my contractions weren't hard, and I enjoyed a lil peace and quiet.  He also stopped by the car and brought my bag up (we left it down there in case they told me to walk or something).  He got back, and turned some music on, and then grabbed the tennis ball sock, and rubbed my lower back (which is where I was feeling most of my contractions), and we sat and chatted and I was on my birthing ball.  We really bonded like never before, it was amazing.  We are really close, but I feel laboring with him made it a closer bond.  at around 1:30, my OB came and checked me again.  She said since my contractions weren't very strong, but I was dilated to 6 cm, she wanted to start PIT.  After she sent the order in, and while the nurse was hooking up the pump, my contractions started getting harder, and more painful.  I looked at the nurse, who about a minute earlier told me it would take at least 10 more minutes for the PIT to kick in, and told her it was working, and I thought she had put too much in.  She looked at me and said "The pump on your IV just broke, you aren't getting ANY fluids."  She checked the monitor, and I was having contraction after contraction, with about 30-45 seconds in between them.  I started screaming, and moaning, and asked for an epidural.  I was fighting the pain too much, and didn't want to fight so much that I was going to stall labor.  I wasn't getting any breaks, and started panicking.  The nurse went and called the anestesiologist and my OB, when my OB came in, and saw my contractions, and that the PIT wasn't started, she cancelled the PIT order, and told me my body was protesting it, and she was glad.  She stayed there with me while they put my epidural in, and helped the nurse insert the catheter.  I was still feeling all the pressure in my perenium, and some back pain, and could fully move my legs, and feel them and my toes.  Christopher and my OB sat with me, and we all listened to music, and talked.  I learned a lot about my OB, she was there all day for me.  She left special orders for them to call her back if I went into labor.  I am one of the few patients she has seen from beginning to end, and she knew how comfortable we are with her, and she really wanted to support me in my choice to VBAC.  at about 5:30 pm, I started feeling the urge to push, so we started pushing.  at 6:45 pm I started feeling EVERYTHING in my right side.  We took this as a sign to change positioning, and since I could still move my legs, I was allowed to turn around on the bed and crouch down in a squatting position to push.  My OB was concerned that Gracie was posterior instead of anterior, so after about 20 minutes of squatting, she brought in the U/S machine, and started doing that.  Laying on my back was miserable.  My right leg kept twitching, and nearly kicked my OB away, and the anesthesiologist came back and gave me a booster.  He was right in time.  by the time he got there at 7:15, I was screaming for them to get her out of me any way they could, and that I didn't care how, I just needed her out.  Christopher kept telling me how good I was doing, and rubbed my lower right back and side and kissing my forehead.  When I got the booster, I relaxed so much more, and my OB told me I HAD to push, Gracie was at a +3 station, and she was ready.  that was at about 7:45 pm.  I started pushing, and watched her lil head bob out first, then in a lil, then out more than in a lil more.  Gracie was born, at 8:00 pm, on the dot.  I had no external tears, and no epesiotomy.  I did have 1 internal first degree tear, more than likely because she bobbed so much.  They immediately layed her on my chest, the cord stopped pulsating at 8:02 pm, and the placenta came out on it's own about 5 minutes later.  Gracie's cord was in fact a 2 vessel cord, and it was long.  She had it wrapped around her neck once, but she was fine!  She started nursing almost immediately, they didn't get a chance to way her until around 10 pm.  I got plenty of bonding time!!!!  Gracie weighed in at 8 lbs 3.7 oz, was 20.5 in long, with a head circumference of 14.8 in.  She has a head full of dark brown hair, it has slight red highlights, just like mine, and big blue eyes!!  I can't say how wonderful recovery was!  I was out of bed within 3 hours of giving birth, eating before that, and just all around feeling like myself so much faster than I did when I had Noah!  This was the most amazing experience!

-Ashley

Elisa's VBAC Birth Story

My first son was born by cesarean due to failure to progress.  I had labored 20 hours when my doctor decided the surgery was in my best interest.  I had been at 8 cm for about 4 hours after allowing my doctor to break my water.  Ignorant of the risks and exhausted from labor, I agreed. 

When I got pregnant with my second baby, I was torn between trying for a VBAC or scheduling a repeat cesarean.  I wanted to experience a vaginal birth so much, but I wondered if it would be easier to just schedule the surgery.  I did a lot of research, joined the International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN) and decided that the safest thing for my baby and me would be to plan a home birth, far from medical interventions.

As I tried to fall asleep around 1 am on Tuesday, January 30, I felt what I knew were labor contractions. I recognized them from my labor with Lucas, and I knew right away it was it. All of a sudden I was so nervous. I felt like I was about to take a final exam. I was SO nervous I started shivering. That’s what happens to me when I get nervous. Same feeling as when I’m about to get on a plane. (I’m terrified of flying.)

I timed the contractions and they were really short – about 30 seconds long and 11 minutes apart or so. Ok, so I figured it would be a while. I told Trey I thought it was really it this time and we should go to sleep to get as much rest as we can. I tried to sleep but couldn’t, so I got on the web cam with my mom. She, my dad, and youngest sister are living in Japan so that’s how we communicate. She was thrilled to be part of my labor, and timed my contractions while we talked.

The contractions were pretty irregular. Some were 6 minutes apart, some 18 minutes apart, and others in between. Some were 30 seconds long, others were 80 seconds long. Pretty soon it was 6 am and they spaced out to 20 min apart. My mom said it was probably a sign I should go back to sleep, so I did.

At one point in the middle of the night I had called Dr. Duhart to let him know I was in labor and probably wouldn’t be in for my 11 am appointment! But, since the contractions stopped when the sun came up, I called back later to say I would be in after all.

Trey left for work around 8 am and I got Lucas and myself ready. Trey would come back at 10:30 and he would drive me to Dr. Duhart’s office.

We got there at 11 am and while waiting, I got one contraction. Same labor-type contraction. Eventually I got called in. All the while I was still wondering how to refuse a vaginal exam, but it ended up not being a problem because Dr. Duhart asked me if I wanted one at all and I was able to say, “No, not really… I’ll give myself an exercise in patience.” In reality, the one reason I didn’t want a VE was because I was GBS positive and didn’t want any bacteria being brought up to the cervix. I had already done three nights of garlic treatment and it didn’t make sense to possibly bring up more bacteria.

Anyhow, Dr. Duhart said that start-stop labors happen and to call him if it started back up. Just keep him updated.

As soon as we left the office and got back into the car, I got another contraction. Soon after, another one, and that one was PAINFUL. It peaked just as we were making a sharp left turn, and sitting in a car the way I was, OUCH. I got a few more as we headed home, and Lucas was asleep when we arrived.

Trey had to go to the airport to pick up his grandma around 3:30, so he took Lucas with him. I was fine being left alone, as I was able to concentrate on the contractions opening my cervix to let the baby out. I listened to my Celtic Woman CD and focused on the baby. Eventually I decided to start timing the contractions again, and they were still very irregular despite being quite painful. They were between 6 and 14 minutes apart and 45-60 seconds long, although I got a couple that were only 2 minutes apart, lasting 75 seconds each.

Later, Trey got home with his grandma and I decided to cook some homemade pizzas for us since Trey had to go back to work for a couple of hours. As I got everything ready, the contractions kept coming in the same irregular pattern as before, but getting a lot…more…painful. Every time I felt one coming, I would leave the room for privacy and try to find a position that minimized the pain. At times it would be kneeling on the floor with my knees as far apart as possible. Other times it would be putting my arms up over my head, leaning back a bit and stretching my torso. It took a long time to get those pizzas ready for the oven.

Earlier, Dr. Duhart had said that with irregular contractions like that, nothing was probably happening, and that I needed to get into a good pattern for the contractions to really mean anything. They had to at least be consistently 60 seconds long, he said. I kept thinking about that, but it frustrated me so much because the contractions were so painful. I thought he must be wrong. Eventually, I realized they were consistently 60 seconds long, so I called him back around 7:30 pm and let him know. Surely he must have thought things were happening now.

Turns out, he didn’t. And I was about to cry.

I hung up the phone and called my midwife friend who would be my labor support. I had been updating her throughout the day pretty calmly, but this time, as soon as she got on the phone, I started to sob.

“Dr. Duhart says the contractions aren’t doing anything because they’re so irregular,” I cried, sobbing. “They hurt SO much, it just can’t be that they’re doing nothing! Oh… there’s another one… UGGHHHHHHH!”

“Well, do you want me to come over and check you?”

“YEAHHH...”

So we hung up and I tried to calm down. Soon after that, Trey got home and I just cried on his shoulder. He asked me what was wrong and I told him the contractions were incredibly painful but Dr. Duhart had said they wouldn’t mean much being so irregular.

Eventually, Bea got there and I told her how frustrated I was at Dr. Duhart for thinking the contractions weren’t doing anything. He didn’t get just how painful they were.

She asked me again if I was sure I wanted to be checked and I said yes, because nothing would discourage me more than I already was. She checked me while I held myself open so as minimize contact with the external area. I wanted to keep any bacteria away from my cervix.

Four centimeters! And an extremely stretchy cervix, stretchable to 6 or 7. YES! I knew it! My body, my contractions were working – I don’t care WHAT Dr. Duhart had to say. I was right, I knew it, I knew it! I should have known better than to doubt my body and trust a doctor over my own instincts. I thought I had already learned that lesson as I processed my previous labor and cesarean birth throughout this pregnancy, but I guess I needed a quick refresher lesson. 

Okay. Knowing that, I began to have more confidence in my body once more. I got a second wind, and was more than happy to take on those irregular contractions that would bring me my baby.

They were still really, really painful, especially when the interval between them was longer because they would come on even stronger, more painful, and they seemed to hit without warning.

But Bea reminded me of the wisdom of my birthing body. She said there was probably a good reason for my contractions being irregular like that. We may not know what it is right now, but we do know that nature knows best.

We talked a lot about birth, and about how perfect it is when left alone. She helped me through the contractions, and having her there made such a difference. I felt so safe in her presence. 

I was still trying positions that minimized the pain of the contractions, but Bea told me that at a certain point I was going to have to start embracing the pain rather than try to run from it. So she helped me change my perspective a bit. I still tried the easiest positions, but worked internally on trying to stay with the pain. Soon I found out I was quite good at it, and it brought me a good bit of satisfaction to take on the pain like that.

At this point, time becomes a bit blurry and I have a hard time remembering what happened when.

Some time during the evening, Trey took Lucas out for a drive so he could fall asleep. He did, and after that we started filling the birth pool.

Since Trey was free to be with me now, I started using him to help me through the contractions. The only drawback was that it was extremely hard to let go of him from then on. His touch and his loving words were so comforting that I fell in love with him all over again. As I type this, I can’t help but think just how lucky I am to have him. He is such a wonderful husband and father, and really a great human being; so generous, so giving of himself.

Later, Trey’s grandma said she was going to bed. Bea asked her if she wanted to be woken up for the birth. I told her it was fine with me, but that I wouldn’t want her there if she didn’t want to BE there. If she did want to be there, then I did want her there. So it was settled. It was so weird – though exciting – to think that my baby would probably be here before the night was over!

I labored on, and soon Bea looked at me and said, “Lily, these contractions are really close together. I’d say 2-3 minutes apart, and they’re long. You might want to give doc a heads up so he has a chance to make it here on time.”

“Ok, but I really don’t want to talk to him. Can you do it? Or Trey could…”

I was in the birth pool by then, and it was nice until Lucas woke up. I thought Trey might be able to get him back to sleep, but after a few minutes I got out of the pool and decided to try to nurse him back to sleep. Bea said the contractions might get even more intense, but to breathe through them and focus. So I went in, and nursed him back to sleep.  As soon as I got off his bed, though, he woke back up. Ugh, how frustrating! One contraction after another, they kept coming. I didn’t now what to do (Lucas was really congested so he was really uncomfortable. I totally get why he was so fussy.)

Eventually I decided to let him get up, get a snack, and play. I also called Laura, our babysitter, who had agreed to be “on call” for us in case we needed her. And now we did. She arrived about 30-45 min later and took over with Lucas. Everything was good again.

Meanwhile, I was holed up in our bedroom, all dark, trying to get through the contractions. They were on top of each other and getting pretty unbearable. But I tried to concentrate on the prize at the end, with Trey and Bea’s help.

Then I remembered about calling Dr. Duhart and had Trey make the call. By this time it was about 1 am, I think. He asked him question after question, and Trey tried to answer as best he could but eventually told him he really didn’t know much about childbirth, and that all he knew was what I had told him to say. It seemed like Dr. Duhart really needed some convincing. Finally, Trey hung up and said Dr. Duhart would be over.

Back in the bedroom, I was starting to get really discouraged again, especially after that phone call to Dr. Duhart. The pain was so bad that I was moaning through the contractions and starting to get desperate. I asked Bea to check me again. She did, and I was 9+ with an anterior lip.

YES!!!! My body was STILL working, no matter how much convincing Dr. Duhart needed.

Then, my contractions started to really space out. I thought, “Uh oh… what’s going on…” Maybe this was the break between full dilation and pushing that some people talk about. The only thing was, for the next two hours or so, very little happened. Not very many contractions, and certainly not a shift to pushing. I was wondering what was going on, and also where Dr. Duhart was. At 1 am he had said he’d be over, and now it was almost 3 and no sign of him. It made me feel like he didn’t really believe in my labor. I felt abandoned. 

Right before he got to our house around 3:30 am, the contractions started to pick back up, and as painful as ever. I moaned and moaned and moaned…

“I can’t do it… It huuuurts!!!!”

Bea: “Lily, you can. Your body is working to bring you your baby. Open yourself up to this pain.”

“AAAUUUGGHHHH…” In whispers: “Ok, baby, sweetie, work with mama here, come down, come down, come down… I want so see youuaaAAUUUUGHHH…”

Finally we heard Dr. Duhart arrive and I told Trey not to let him into the room; I didn’t want to see him. Then I changed my mind. I did want to see him, I wanted him to see for himself that this labor was happening and my body was working.

He checked me. 7-8 cm.

What? Bea said 9+ before! Well, according to Dr. Duhart she probably didn’t do it right.

Riiight. I didn’t say anything, but I figured I had reverse dilation – the type caused by emotional stuff or whatever. It made sense to me since I really had no trust in Dr. Duhart anymore and didn’t really want him there anyway. I had been almost expecting that to happen.

Another contraction come on and I started to cry helplessly. I sobbed and sobbed, and everyone was quiet. Dr Duhart asked what was wrong with me and Bea told him I was really discouraged now.

“Well,” he said, “She wanted natural childbirth, and this is what it is. She said she doesn’t want her water broken artificially, so there’s nothing left to do now but wait until it breaks on its own. It’s just going to keep on like this until that happens.”

Still sobbing, I yelled at him. “So really you don’t think I can do it like this!!”

“No, I never said that, what makes you think that I think that.”

“Well, you just SAID it’s just going to keep on indefinitely and my body isn’t going to do anything until my water breaks. You think we need to break my water now, and I don’t want to do that because that is exactly what caused my c-section last time.  My baby’s head got stuck in a bad position and I DON’T WANT TO BE CUT OPEN AGAIN!!!!” I was screaming at him.

“Last time you were only 2 cm when they broke you water, right?”

“NO – I was eight centimeters, just like now, and that STUPID DOCTOR wanted to break my water, just like now!!!!” I sobbed.

“Well, I’m sorry but I am not a stupid doctor in a hospital. I’m Dr. Duhart, I’m not him.”

“I know, I know you’re not him…”

More sobbing.

Then Dr. Duhart stepped out and Bea came over to me.

“Lily, you WERE 9 cm when I checked you. He just doesn’t think it’s possible to close back up. You’re doing great – you’re going to do this.”

Interestingly, I never got a single word of encouragement from Dr. Duhart. I reckon that’s not what he was there for, huh…

Again, the contractions spaced out. I was so exhausted, so I decided it was probably my body telling me to rest and I did. But when another one came on, it was so much more excruciating than the previous one.

After resting for a while, I got up and started to think. Ok, what haven’t we tried? Pelvic rocks, I haven’t tried pelvic rocks. So I did them. The contractions came back for a while and then slowed back down.

Ok, what else. I tried various other weird positions I can’t even describe, that made my pelvis feel open.

Soon I started to cry again. “I don’t know what else to doooo!!! I can’t… I can’t…”

Then I went to the bathroom. This time I turned the light on and sat on the toilet. I cried and cried. Contractions came and came as I sobbed, in so much pain. Then it hit me. I had to use my last resort. I yelled at Trey to get me the cell phone. He asked what for and I told him I was going to call Bonnie. YES, she’ll get me through this.

I dialed her cell number. No answer. I dialed her house number and sobbed into her answering machine for her to wake up. “Bonnie, it’s Lily, I need you. Bonnnieeee, I need youuuuu… wake uuuuup… Bonnie…” I hung up. I called back like she told me to. “Bonniieee please answer the phone… I need you, I can’t do this anymore…” I Hung up again. I called back and her husband answered. Oh. Ok, he put her on the phone. Ohh, how glad was I to hear her. She was always so wise on the ICAN list, I know she can get me through this, I thought.

She asked me what was up and I told her I was stuck, stuck again. Told her about my dilation, about how discouraged I was. I went through a few contractions with her on the phone and she said they sounded like they were really close together. She told me to get in the shower and really relax between contractions because I have all this adrenaline going and I need to relax. She said to be by myself in the shower.

So I got in the shower and the water felt so good. I focused on relaxing between contractions, and that brought them on even stronger, on top of each other. I was thinking everyone else probably thought my contractions had stopped again because I wasn’t making any noise, but they were coming fast and furious, and I was coping with the water. I remember saying to myself over and over again, “This pain is not going to kill me, this pain is not going to kill me,” and that made it easier to cope.

After about half an hour of doing that, the hot water was running out. I started to panic. I thought, “What am I going to do now?”

I started thinking of going to the hospital. I wanted an epidural so bad. I didn’t want another c-section. Then I remembered one of our local ICAN members, who had her VBAC at the hospital near my house (my transfer plan). She had a light epidural, labored for days at the hospital and didn’t get sectioned for failure to progress. Ok. I had options, and having gone on like this for hours and hours, something had to change.

Something had to change.

So I decided I was going to the hospital. But I still had to get out of the bathroom and tell Bea and Dr. Duhart. I told Bea and she said she would try to get Dr. Duhart to check me again and see where I was. She went to the kitchen where he was and talked to him for a few moments. Eventually he came over to me ready to check me but I had made up my mind. I didn’t want him checking me, it wouldn’t make a bit of a difference, and I was going to the hospital. I told Trey to wake up his grandma and tell her we were leaving. I gathered my clothes trying to deal with the pain, but knowing now that the end of the pain, even if not of my labor, was in sight. I was prepared to labor for another few days if I could just get a partial dose of an epidural.

Soon we were in the car. I couldn’t sit, so I held on to the back of the seat. We drove the mile and finally made it to the ER parking lot. I was in so much pain I wanted to die. Now, instead of moaning during contractions, I was yelling “No, no, no, no, please not another oneeeee!!!”  That turned into “God, please no, please take this pain away, please…” I went back and forth like this.

Soon I was in a wheelchair, screaming in agony. I thought I must have looked just like those women in the movies. Screaming their lungs out and begging for an epidural the moment they’re wheeled in.

I went in to triage and the nurse seemed to treat me like I was just another laboring woman in pain. It was like she didn’t get the kind of pain I was in! I told her I’d been laboring for hours and that I needed an epidural right away. “Ok, sweetie, but first we have to get you admitted, get some blood work…” UGH.

It went on forever. First this, then that. I was in so much pain, and now that I was lying down, I could really feel that it was mostly on my left side. I didn’t want to get up, though, because I knew if I did, the contractions would come stronger and longer. I was so afraid of being yet in more pain.

Even with all that pain, though, I knew I wanted them hospital folks to know they had an informed patient on their hands. So, when they brought me the blanket consent forms, I actually took the time to read them and alter them here and there. I think the nurse was shocked. I altered as I deemed appropriate and signed. When I handed the form back to the lady that brought them in, I told her I had made some changes and to read them before signing the form as a witness.

Then a resident came in to do the VBAC informed consent. He said there was a minimal risk of uterine rupture, about 0.7%, and that I just needed to sign the form saying I was aware of all that. I read, signed, and in an almost delirious state from the pain I told him I was very impressed he used the 0.7% figure (my former OB used 1%) and said the risk was “minimal.” Very impressive, and I thanked him for portraying the risk of uterine rupture in adequate perspective.  Later, I overheard him telling someone across the curtain about the Landon study.  He said that a recent study had come out that hadn’t found a significant difference in uterine ruptures between vaginal birth after one and multiple cesareans. WOW! When he came back in, I told him I was extremely impressed at how up to date he was on his research.

Somewhere in between all this, I felt I really needed to empty my bladder. They had started an IV and I hadn’t used the bathroom in a while. They brought me a bedpan because I wouldn’t get up, but I told them I couldn’t go, and that I wanted a catheter. The nurse said they don’t like to do those because of the risk of urinary tract infections and that I would have to get up and go to the bathroom.

I said, “No, I want the catheter – can you quote me the actual statistics on UTIs and catheterization?”

There was a LONG silence and in my pain I still found it in me to smile at the fact that she didn’t know. Heh. I didn’t know either, but it just proved my point that you can’t talk me out of something just by calling it “risky.”

The resident came back in and said most people find the catheter very uncomfortable. I told him I knew that, but I’d had them before and I was fine with it. He said I was probably feeling the urge because the baby’s head was pressing on my bladder, and I repeated that I’d had the IV on for a while, I needed to pee and to get me a catheter.

Finally, another nurse came in to do the catheter, which they’d decided to make it the type you keep in since I was going to have the epidural anyway. (I had previously suggested they just do an in & out or whatever it’s called, but they didn’t want to since I was going to need another one after getting the epidural.) Once it was in, it drained and drained and drained my bladder. I felt such relief, and it seemed to take the edge off the contractions for a while.

After what seemed like an eternity, they FINALLY wheeled me into L&D. It had probably been about an hour and 45 min. I got to the room, ran to the bed and instinctively got on my right side. Most of the pain was on my left side.

They brought the epidural consent form, and I was about to sign it when another contraction hit. I was in such agony, and about 2 contractions later, my body started pushing. Ohhh and it hurt so much. I thought for a moment that it might take the pain away, but it didn’t. It multiplied it. What was most unbearable was that my body was starting to push really, really, really hard and there was nothing I could do about it.

My body pushed and made me scream what I could only describe as the most primal scream.  Ohhh, I wanted that epidural so bad. Someone asked if I had signed the form, and I hadn’t, so in between pushing contractions I scribbled my name on the paper. Someone mentioned something about it being a race between the baby and the epidural. I said, “EPIDURAL!!!!!!!”

Another contraction was about to hit, and I begged for it to stop. “Please, please, no, no, I don’t want toooooAAAAUUUUGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!” I roared.

People were starting to rush in, getting stuff set up, and all I wanted was that epidural. Someone asked if I had been checked for completeness and I yelled, “I don’t want to be checked, I’M PUSHING!!!” Ok, so no check.

The resident then instructed me to get on my back so they could put my legs up in stirrups. I said I didn’t want to, that I wanted to push on my side. He said it would make it easier.

“YEAH… easier for YOU!”

“Well,” he replied calmly, “it helps to open up the pelvic outlet…”

I fired back: “Actually, no, that’s wrong. It constricts the sacrum and collapses the pubic bone…AAAUUUGHHHHH!!!!!” I stayed on my side.

At the third pushing contraction my water broke. All clear.

“Good, the fluid is clear.”

“Of COURSE my fluid is clear!! ALL my babies have clear fluid!!!”

Someone else mentioned the heart tones were good. Again, I told them all my babies had good heart tones. (There were never any heart rate issues when I was in labor with Lucas.)

At the next contraction, someone said something about hair. I couldn’t believe it. There was no way I was pushing this baby out without an epidural. It felt like my insides were going to rip apart.

Next contraction and the head was almost there. I had been holding my left butt cheek open for the pain, and I reached down to touch the head. Yup, there it was. I still wanted that epidural, but realizing it would be way more horrible to get the epidural put in than to just push her out right then and there, I ordered: “Ok, you said heart tones are good and the fluid was clear, so I want her ON MY CHEST as SOON as she’s out!”

“Well, we’ll have to make sure she’s ok first,” said the nurse.

“NO, she’ll be fine – I want her on my chest!”

I also told them to remove the catheter since I obviously wasn’t going to get the epidural.

Since I knew she would crown with the next contraction, I finally decided to help my body do its thing. I felt the contraction come and pushed with my body. I heard Bea’s beautiful voice whisper, “Lily, push through the pain.” So I did. I knew I didn’t want the head stuck there for another contraction just because I didn’t push hard enough during this one, so I pushed, pushed, pushed and POP! the head was out. They checked for the cord. I thought the rest of the body would just slide out, but it didn’t. I actually had to push again. Push, push, push, and then AAHHHH, out slid her body.

(I remember thinking I didn’t want her shoulders to be stuck for more than a few seconds, because then they’d cry shoulder dystocia, and that’s another label I don’t need. )

I lifted myself up from the side-lying position I was in and saw her lying on the bed, just over two hours after getting to the hospital.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it! That’s my baby, that’s my baby!” 

They cut the cord just as I started to say “No, don’t clamp—oh well…”

I picked her up all gooey and bloody and held her tight to my chest. “Oh baby, my beautiful baby!” The first thing she did while in my arms was grab my medallions. I wear two medallions, one of the Virgin Mary of Guadalupe, which my grandparents gave me for my First Communion, and one with the Sacred Heart of Jesus on one side and the Virgin Mary and Child on the other. It was perfect. I told her that her brother liked to play with my necklace, too!

I never let her go for at least an hour and a half while being stitched up. She had been posterior (seen by ultrasound when I was admitted), turned transverse (which is how she came out), AND with her hand by her face. “Compound presentation,” the doctor said. Wow.

I had a 2nd degree tear in the vaginal wall, a small midline perineal tear, a small one on my labia, and a couple of “skid marks” which weren’t bleeding, on the urethral wall, I think they said.

I talked to her a lot in the hour and a half I held her while being stitched, cleaned up, etc. Then they told me to just let them know when I was ready for them to weigh her. She weighed 8 lbs even. Several hours later they did her measurements and she was 20 ½ inches long. Head circumference, 13 ¼ inches.

By the way, our L&D nurse was someone I’d met at an LLL enrichment group a few months before. Her name was Lisa, and when I saw her come in I had looked up at her and said “OH! I know you!” She was wonderful.

While they admitted Elisa, I started to feel very sad, thinking I never ever wanted to do this again. I felt traumatized. It was horrible. It felt like I was being tortured.

I spent the next two days in the hospital recovering emotionally from the birth. The day of her birth, I was shocked at the experience. The next day, my former doula came to see me and encouraged me to see the positives. That started me on the road to recovery, and my thoughts that day were of “Wow, I can’t believe it actually happened.” I couldn’t believe I had my VBAC. I thought it only happened to other people, to the luckier ones, and I never considered myself particularly lucky. Still, when people told me what I great job I’d done, I said I didn’t do it. “Don’t tell me I did a great job, because I didn’t.” My body did it, not me.

I spent that day thinking a lot about what I had done and what my body had done. My mom pointed out that I had made every single decision before the birth to put me in a position that would maximize my chances of having a VBAC.  She said that just by making those decisions, I did it.

So the next day, I thought, “I did it!”

I did it.

Today, I give thanks to God for knowing my body strong enough to allow me to go through that pain even though my mind gave up, and for somehow allowing my baby to come before the epidural.

I’ve had body image issues my entire life, but after going through what I did with this birth, I’m in awe at what my body can do even without my consent!

For the first time in my life, I love my body.

 -Lily

Thalea’s Birth Story (My Perfect VBAC)

If you are not familiar with our history we had a few obstacles to
overcome before this birth became possible. 1993 - My first baby was
born via induced vaginal delivery at 9 days past my “due date”. A week
of prodomal labor, 12 hours active/hard labor and 30 minutes of pushing.
She was posterior. 1997 - Second baby was born via c-section for
posterior brow presentation after induced labor (18 hours of hard labor,
at least of an hour of pushing and the sOB trying to turn her head
during contractions) at 6 days past my “due date”. I had not gone into
labor on my own, but had been leaking amnio fluid for 2-3 days and had a
low-grade fever. 2000 - Third baby was born via scheduled repeat
c-section (4 days before my “due date”) for breech position that turned
transverse upon the opening of my uterus which required an inverted T
incision by the doctor because the baby got stuck. I had a panic attack
(I believe the first of many) while they were closing me up and thought
I was going to die. That was one of the worst experiences of my life.

I did research my last surgery and discovered that the surgeon did use a
double layer of sutures when closing my uterus. Some will argue that
there isn’t much of a difference but it made me feel a little more
confident. However, the vertical part of that incision “extended into
the fundus”. Since there is no measurement of how far into the fundus
the incision extended I have no way of knowing specifically how far.
The OB who performed that surgery told me afterward that if she were to
care for me again through another pregnancy that she would insist on a
c-section at 36 weeks for fear of uterine rupture.

When I first discovered I was pregnant with this baby I started seeing
CNM midwives attached to the local hospital and overseen by an OB group.
I was told at my first appointment that the midwives would see me for my
prenatal care until 34 weeks upon which time they would transfer me to
one of the high risk OBs due to my c-section history. They never
verbalized it, but I had a strong feeling that this meant I would have a
c-section before 38 weeks. During my 20 week ultrasound it was
discovered that my placenta was anterior, adding the concern that it may
attach to my scar. Oh yeah, and let’s not forget my advanced maternal
age of 35. *rolls eyes*

Shortly after that, I found and joined the ICAN list and read the
research on the ICAN site. I spoke through e-mail to two women who had
also had either vertical or inverted T incisions. I read Natural Birth
After Cesarean by Karis Crawford, PhD and Johanne C. Walters, BSN, RN.
Karis herself had an inverted T incision and went on to have 2 VBACs.
In the midst of this research I decided to find a homebirth midwife or
at least a midwife that was not working for a hospital/OB group. There
was only one in my immediate area that I could locate and she would not
assist me. I did a search for home birth midwives on the internet for
my area, none. Ohio is apparently fairly unfriendly to lay midwives or
Direct Entry Midwives (DEMs) and all Certified Nurse Midwives (CNMs)
seemed to be under the thumbs of the OBs and hospitals. So, I expanded
my search into Michigan, which luckily is a bit more midwife friendly.
I was still turned down by every midwife within 30-45 minutes of my
home. In the midst of this I’d sent an e-mail to Bridgett at The Birth
Place in Taylor, MI, nearly 50 miles from my home. Finally, Linda Honey
(also of The Birth Place) called me, one of the other midwives that had
turned me down had passed my name to Linda. Linda asked about my
history, then explained that she and Bridgett would be happy to assist
me, that they had assisted with other VBACs after incisions like mine.
At 22 weeks I transferred care to Bridgett and Linda and began the 45
minute drives to my prenatal appointments. (My home was too far for them
to drive giving that they have other women in their area that could go
into labor at the same time)

My pregnancy went along fine, no complications. I was fully planning on
giving birth to my daughter at their birth center but I was prepared for
the possibility that I might end up with another c-section due to
whatever unforeseen emergent circumstances might arise.

One evening in my 36th week I began having fairly regular contractions,
during these contractions the baby started to flip. I immediately
stopped her believing that she was already vertex, I put my hand against
whichever part it was and pushed it back to the top of my belly. At 37
weeks Bridgett and Linda both felt that the baby was breech upon
palpation. They explained that as long as she was in a frank breech
position they would still assist me with a VBAC. I was in shock, this
was the same road that led me to my last c-section with the inverted T
incision and laying on the table thinking I was going to die. I did NOT
want to repeat that experience. I was angry with myself for stopping
her from turning the week before and angry with her for being in that
position. I spent that weekend doing everything known to man in an
attempt to turn the baby, ice on the top of my belly, pulsatilla, music
at the bottom of my belly, hands & knees position with my shoulders
down, chiropractic, tried to find an acupuncturist with no luck, manual
manipulation, and I can’t remember what else. I did get her to a
transverse position which was a start but I explained to the baby that
she couldn’t stay their either because that was worse! I did get her
back to a vertical position but wasn’t sure if she was breech or vertex.
I stopped my turning attempts just in case if she was vertex. I located
a local office that does “reassurance” ultrasounds and made an
appointment for the following Saturday. During the ultrasound she was
frank breech, but her butt was sitting on my left hip and one of her
hands was near my cervix. This position was not optimal either. I
began the turning techniques again, but not as vigorously. I came to a
place of peace with either position being ok as long as there were no
limbs or umbilical cord in the way. My fiancé and I talked to the baby
a lot, explaining that it would be much easier for both of us if she
were to turn head down. She did a lot of turning back and forth in the
last few weeks and I had a lot of prodomal labor (several weeks) to show
for it.

At my last prenatal appointment (Thurs. 6/21), I was 41w4d, dilated to 1
cm and 20% effaced. Hadn’t really had too many contractions the last
few days. Bridgett felt that the baby was vertex again, but I was still
trying to be prepared for any eventuality. We went to a relaxing Summer
Solstice celebration that evening, everyone wished us good labor energy.

Friday morning around 3:30 am (the same time I’d been waking up nightly
for the last 4-5 weeks), I woke up having some good, strong contractions
lasting about a minute or longer, about 5-7 minutes apart. They kept me
up for an hour or two and then I was able to sleep for a few hours. I
was a little disappointed when I woke up that I’d slept so long, I
thought for sure it was another false alarm. I stayed in bed most of
the day resting and contracting, they gradually got stronger, but after
dinner slowed down to about 10 minutes apart. I had already talked to
Bridgett a few times, she suggested that maybe they were giving me a
break so I could get some rest and they would pick up again tomorrow. I
did sleep pretty well that night and they did pick back up around 3:30
am Saturday again. Still a little stronger than before. By 10 am they
were requiring some attention and were starting to hurt. Around 10:30
am I had a very strong one that reminded me how badly labor hurts. :-)
A friend of mine who is a massage therapist came over after noon and
gave me a wonderful back and shoulder massage. By 2 pm, my contractions
progressed, they were 5ish minutes apart, about 1 minute to 1.5 minutes
apart and getting continuously stronger. I had been eating small snacks
here and there, nothing major, I knew the puking was coming and food
wasn’t too appetizing anyways. At some point the contractions started
hurting in my butt cheeks, which was new to me. My labors with DDs #1 &
#2 involved back labor, but low back, not butt cheeks. By 9 pm, I was
having difficulty carrying on a conversation during the contractions and
they were beginning to require a bit of concentration to get through. I
called Bridgett and explained my progress as best I could. I was still
feeling pretty good, but felt like I should be closer to the birth
center. She told us to come up and she’d at least check me. That was
the most painful car ride of my life – having strong/painful
contractions while on bumpy I-75 and sitting up right! Sheesh! I think
I should have sat in the back so I could sit however I wanted. Bridgett
met us at the birth center, my fiancé wanted to start bringing our stuff
in, I told him to wait just in case if we weren’t staying. When she
checked me I was already 100% effaced and a stretchy 4 cm!! Holy crap!
I didn’t think I was that far along but thrilled that I was!

Labor continued, my friend, the massage therapist, had come with us.
Thank the Lady and the Lord! The pain in my butt cheeks quickly became
unbearable. At this point I started to go inside myself during
contractions, which is what I did during my induced labors. Somehow I
decided I didn’t want to do that this time, I wanted to be more
connected to the people in the room. During my inductions I was not
able to connect to anyone else in the room or communicate very well at
all. This time I tried to keep my eyes open during contractions and to
focus on something, anything in the room. It was extremely difficult,
but it did help. Also my friend massaged my hips/butt cheeks during
each contraction, that helped make it much more bearable. I’m pretty
sure she wasn’t counting on having to play with my butt all night. :-)
At some point my water broke and the contractions got even stronger. I
think within an hour of my water breaking my body started to push a bit
with the contractions. I tried really hard not to, I knew I wasn’t
dilated enough and didn’t want to make my cervix swell shut. It was
very hard not to push, my body was pushing on it’s own. A few hours
after that (I think) I got in the tub. I labored in the tub for a while
(not sure how long) before I couldn’t fight pushing anymore. Luckily,
just as we were all getting very exhausted our High Priestess and High
Priest from our coven showed up. Our High Priestess helped me focus and
not push. Around 3 am I couldn’t not push anymore, it was
uncontrollable. Someone went to wake up Bridgett, who’d laid down for a
quick nap. She came back to check me at 3:30 am and I was at 10 cm!!
With the next contraction I pushed as hard as I could, I think it took
me 2 or 3 pushes to get Thalea’s head past my public bone. Then the
ring of fire… Ahh!!! When I got to that point Bridgett told me to stop
pushing so hard, to just do slow gentle pushes, she wanted me to let my
body slowly stretch to let the baby through without tearing. That
wasn’t fun at all. I did what I could to not push too hard. Finally,
her head appeared, for the first time in 4 births I was able to reach
down and feel my baby as she was coming out. A minute later I tried to
reach down to pull her out, but there wasn’t enough of her out. LOL
Everyone knew what I was trying to do and stopped me. Thalea wiggled a
few times while she was in the birth canal – that is the MOST bizarre
feeling on the planet. A few more gentle pushes and she was completely
out! Bridgett slipped one loop of her umbilical cord off her neck and I
reached over instinctively and slipped the second loop off. (Seemed
completely natural to me at the time, but a little odd that it seemed so
natural later.) Bridgett laid her on my belly and covered her with a
towel. We were all laughing and talking to her, I checked to make sure
that she was in fact a girl. LOL After a few minutes she opened her
eyes and started looking around – several camera flashes went off 2-3
times each. :-) I birthed the placenta within about 20 minutes or so
without any problems. Daddy was a little startled that we were sitting
in a tub full of blood, amnio fluid and who knows what else. LOL
Finally, it was time to get out of the tub and since I was laying on
Tony and the baby was laying on me, Tony decided to let his dad hold her
first after me, so we could get out of the tub. Getting out of the tub
was quite the chore, but we both had plenty of help. I made my way to
the bathroom and then to the bed, Bridgett checked me out – no tears!!
I was quite impressed with this as my first baby was a pound and a half
smaller but I did get the obligatory episiotomy at the hospital.
Eventually after everyone got to hold the baby, I got her back and we
made our first attempt at breastfeeding. She wasn’t terribly interested
but she did make a good effort. From the time she was born until this
point she’d been wide awake and very alert, but had not cried at all.
Our family and friends left around 5 am, we all laid down for some
sleep. I didn’t sleep much at all, I was too enamored with my new baby
girl, I just laid there next to her watching her sleep. :-) Finally
around 10 am, Tony got up, got Bridgett up. He got our stuff together
while I got myself together. It was incredible to be able to stand up
and walk to the bathroom unassisted 6 hours after giving birth and NOT
feeling like I had to hold my guts in! We were home shortly after noon.
She had a cone head for a few hours, but it was gone before we even got
up to leave from the birth center.

I truly feel like I could not have had this birth without my midwives,
Tony, our friend – the massage therapist, and my High Priestess. Had I
not had their strength to draw from and lean on during my pregnancy and
during my labor, it might have had quite a different outcome.

Thalea Sage, 8 lbs., 3 ozs., 24 inches long with a 14 inch head.

It is so amazing what your body will do, when it’s left to it’s own
devices and not interfered with by doctors who have nothing better to do
than to tinker with things they ought not tinker with.

If you would like to see pictures, go here
http://www.jessicas-haven.com/baby.htm and skip down to the bottom, the
story is the same as it is here. :-)

-Jessica

Jessica@jessicas-haven.com --- so that those with questions may contact me directly.
:-) VBACs after inverted T’s can be done!

Oliver James' HBAC

Oliver is here 4 days late and after only 36 hours of labor. I guess he didn't want to come out.

Three weeks before my due date Oliver dropped way down into my pelvis. He was so low that I never even got that out of breath feeling that most women get in the 9th month. So I was prepared for him to be early but pretty sure he wouldn't be. I never had any contractions other that Braxton-Hicks before the day I went into labor. Oliver was due December 30th and we were hoping that he would come before the new year so we could get the tax credit. Nope. Watch me hang THAT over his head for the rest of his life.

Saturday, December 31st
New Year's Eve we were supposed to go over my friend's house for our annual gathering but my lower back started killing me around 5 pm so I decided not to go.

Sunday, January 1st
New Year's Day I was still feeling icky. Kind of like I had the flu but still no contractions. So I decided that enough is enough! I went out to Walgreen’s and bought a bottle of castor oil to try to get this thing going. I know that castor oil won't work if you're not ready anyway so I figured it was worth a shot. It is really not too bad. I put it in orange juice and stirred it up. It just felt like OJ with lots of pulp. I took it sometime in the late morning and spent the rest of the day in the bathroom.

Labor Day 1
Monday, January 2nd
4 am: Sure enough Monday morning I woke up around 4 am to mild contractions. They felt like rhythmic menstrual cramps. They were coming every 4 minutes and lasting about a minute and a half. I knew that I should stay in bed but I just couldn't sleep after that. How exciting, I was actually in labor! So I got out of bed and started straightening up the house.

6 am: I'm sitting on my birth ball playing on the computer and I feel a little gush. I'm not really sure if I peed myself a little or if my water has a small leak. But seeing as how the contractions are still 3 1/2 minutes apart I figure I should probably call the midwife and give her a heads up.

8 am: Tony and Nathan finally wake up. Tony is such a zombie when he wakes up! I'm trying to get him to set up the birth pool and get the bed ready but he's just wandering around the house grumbling. It's take him a few hours to wake up.

10 am: The midwife decides to come check on me because of the suspected SROM.

11 am: By the time she gets here what I had wet was dry so she tried checking me and couldn't get enough fluid to know for sure. So she stayed. Meanwhile the contractions got harder but came farther apart. By this time they had slowed to 7 minutes between. My friend Debbie arrived shortly after my midwife. She was here to keep me company. Her son took Nathan with him for the day.

12 pm: My contractions got irregular around noon. I didn't seem to be doing much. I was afraid we had a false alarm. Still couldn't tell if I had ruptured membranes or not. So we decided to try some cohoshes. Yuck! They sure do taste bad but the contractions picked up within 5 minutes. Deb and I took a walk around the block.

1 pm: My midwife decided to go for a drive. She left four cups of tinctures and told me to take them every hour. And to call her if things picked up. They didn't.

4:30 pm: My midwife came back to see how I was doing. No change. The contractions were harder and closer but still not too bad. By now I would've had a c-section in the hospital.

5 pm: My other midwife showed up. She was going to take over for the first midwife for a while. I let her check me for dilation. I was 3 cm and somewhere around 80% effaced but really soft. She was so worried that I would be upset. I wasn't. I figured that I always do things slow. It helps me to process what is happening.

5:30 pm: Everybody left. I was ordered to take a nap. Yes, I was contracting this whole time.

7:30 pm: My contractions picked up enough that I called Debbie to come back.

8 pm: Of course as soon as she got here they started to slow down again. Deb and Tony filled up the birth tub while I went downstairs and cooked dinner.

Sarah's Birth

I was standing on my knees in the Jacuzzi. I was so scared and excited, I
knew nothing would go wrong at this point, but I was still so scared of the
pain, I felt like I would split in half if I had to push again. Her head was
half way out, I reached down and cupped it in my hand. It fit so perfectly
and the feel of her scalp against my palm was just amazing. Suddenly I was
re-energized and I knew that no matter what pain was left this was
definitely worth it. Another contraction came and I pushed the rest of her
head out with a scream so high pitched I think I could have broken a crystal
glass. I remember just laughing, I knew the worst was over, just her body to
go now. I leaned forward over the side of the Jacuzzi to take a rest before
the next contraction came. Sarah gave two little kicks right on cue to let
me know the next one was coming. I leaned back so Kenneth could catch and I
let my but float in the water a little. That next contraction sent her
shooting out into the warm pool and her daddy's arms. Kenneth scooped her up
right away and handed her to me. I was not really with it yet, kind of
running on auto pilot. I turned her over and was rubbing her back to get her
to breathe, not realizing that she was already breathing. That lasted a
couple seconds then I realized that I had just given birth to a beautiful
baby girl. I cradled her against my chest and tried to relax in the water,
which was now red with blood. Kenneth handed me a couple warm towels and I
examined our new baby while trying to keep her warm. I said hi, told her I
was her mommy and how much I loved her. Within a couple minutes we got out
of the Jacuzzi and onto the bed. I tried to nurse her, but she was more
interested in looking around. About 15 minutes after the birth, the placenta
came out. I felt my uterus empty as the organ that Sarah and I shared for
nine months plopped out onto an OB pad below my knees. It was real closure
to my pregnancy, something I did not even know I had missed with my first
baby. I transferred the placenta to a bowl so we could easily carry it
around with the baby. I offered the breast again and she was quite happy to
have her first meal. I remember holding her a short time later. I was just
overcome with emotion. I was crying and saying, "we did it baby, me and you,
we really did it. I love you so much. Oh thank you baby girl. We did it. You
are so perfect" She was so beautiful, but I can remember being concerned
because I thought her chin was huge, well it was, but her face eventually
grew into it. Maybe an hour after the birth, I left Sarah to bond with her
daddy while I took a shower, I felt so good, so energized even though I had
been awake for over 24 hours and had just given birth. After my shower, we
gathered on the bed together and cut Sarah's cord and put her first diaper
on. We decided not to bathe her so she could make full use of her vernix. We
called the friend who was watching our son and she brought him home. Michael
loved Sarah from that very first day. It was clear that he was just smitten
with her. The four of us spent the rest of the day lounging together, being
a family and getting to know our new addition.

-Melissa Ann

Anya Belle's Birth

Anya Belle's entrance into the world: Aug 9, 2007 (40w3d)

I had convinced myself that labor would start at night… why? Because
it had happened that way before, perhaps, or maybe because that's
common for mammals in general. I fantasized about sitting out on our
newly-rebuilt deck under the moonlight, enjoying the early stages of
labor in some peaceful commune with nature (or at least as much nature
as you can find in a suburban backyard) on a late summer night. So
each morning as my due date approached, and then passed, I would wake
up and think, "Ok, well not today. One more day of being pregnant."
And DS and I would go about our day.

So that's what I found us doing one Wednesday morning. We headed to
the local library for Toddler Time and while we were there I had a few
uncomfortable twinges that I found pretty easy to ignore. After the
library, we headed across the street to Starbucks for a quick snack.
Through our pumpkin loaf, I felt a few more gentle tightening
sensations. Something to keep an eye on, I think. But probably
nothing, because I still hadn't seen any signs of a mucous plug or
other signs of impending labor.

We get home and have some play time – everything has been ready for
the birth for quite a while, so there's not really anything I have to
do. While we're playing, I have some more light contractions and I
find that a little low moaning helps me get through them. I've talked
to DS about this and I call it my baby song. He thinks it's fun. We
are upstairs looking at baby pictures of him on the computer and he
asks for more baby song, so I moan for the heck of it just to
entertain him.

Around lunchtime I called DH to tell him what's happening and he
offered to come home for lunch and to put DS down for his nap, just to
I can relax as much as possible. The contractions weren't amounting
to much so mid-afternoon I decided to have half a glass of wine and
lay down, but I couldn't get to sleep. The midwives, M & B, whom I'd
seen just a couple of days before, called to say they'd be out of cell
phone range for a few hours and to give an alternate phone number, so
I gave them the heads up that things might be happening soon. We then
make arrangements to hand DS off to my SIL so we won't have to worry
about moving him in the middle of the night.

While DH made dinner, I went to the video store to rent a movie and we
enjoyed our first dinner alone at home since we first became parents.
I sat and/or leaned on the birth ball for most of the movie, swaying
and rocking during contractions. The contractions became more regular
or more intense over the course of the night and eventually I had to
ask DH to pause the movie so I could stop to concentrate on getting
through them.

At this point I decided it was time to at least call B and give her
the heads up that we'd be calling her tonight. We talked about how
the day had progressed and I really couldn't decide if it was
necessary for her to come yet. She asked if I'd just feel better
having her come over for a while and I decided that I did want someone
else there with us. DH started filling the birthing tub and I sat on
the bottom step in my semi-squatting position. When B arrived, she
asked to check me so she could assess the situation and keep in touch
with M who'd stayed home so she could be well-rested if things went
long. She said things seemed to definitely be moving, but I didn't
want to know how far along I was, so she kept the numbers to herself.
Feeling better at having some more support in the house, I was dealing
with the contractions fairly easily so B went upstairs to take a nap
and I got in the tub to labor for a while.

I spent a few hours in the tub, with either DH or B bringing me water
or ginger ale and small snacks. I eventually needed to pee, but
didn't feel like climbing the stairs just to make it to our one
bathroom in the house, so I just ended up sitting on a birthing stool
and they would bring a large bowl. That ended up being my M.O. for
the labor – I never set foot in the bathroom once!

When I got sick of being in the tub, or probably when I decided I was
too cold and B suggested a change of pace, I made my way up the stairs
to the bedroom so I could try to get some sleep in between
contractions. After not being able to nap in the afternoon and being
up all day, I was really tired and wanted to be in my bed. I laid
down on my left side, supported by various pillows, and did manage to
sleep in between the surges – but oh, what a shocker it was to be
woken up by the intense pain! It was all down low and in front, not
much back labor at that point, which was a relief.

I don't know how long I was in the bed, but I recall being
disappointed when I noticed the sky starting to lighten. Although I
hadn't gone through any trouble to cover the clocks in the house, I
didn't really take notice of them either, and so this was the only
sense I had of how long the labor was taking. When the contractions
really started to get organized the night before, I'd hoped to have
the baby by morning but that clearly wasn't going to happen. And so
the sun rose on day #2.

B had been in touch with M a few times during the night and they
decided she should come in the morning. She arrived around 9-ish and
I spent some time on the birth ball, and then got back in the bed to
rest more and try to get more sleep. At this point I did feel a lot
of pressure on my sacrum and needed a lot of counter-pressure to make
it bearable, which M provided. DH and M continued bringing me small
sips to keep me hydrated, as well as my new all-purpose bowl (now for
both peeing and puking in) and the stool to sit on.

I had my emotional transition during just one such pee break. I was
so tired and feeling so overwhelmed by the intense pain that the
temptation of pain relief had occurred to me more than once. I kept
thinking back to that spinal just before the c-section, what an
intense relief it was to not be in pain anymore, and how much I would
like that kind of relief just then. I kept saying I couldn't do it
anymore, but also knew that I couldn't possibly live with myself if I
transferred just for pain relief while everything else seemed to be
going smoothly. DH and M encouraged me, and kept suggesting a change
of scene. I seriously doubted whether I could make it down the
stairs, but I eventually agreed and headed back down the stairs to the
pool.

M and B had done a few vaginal exams over the course of the labor, so
I don't know exactly when this happened. B was good about not
divulging the extent of dilation as we'd previously agreed, but during
one exam that second morning, she pronounced me "doing great,
definitely more than half way." More than half way? What did that
mean? 5½ ? 6? 8? I was already so tired; could I still have nearly 5
cm to go? Those few words really weighed on my mind, but I tried to
just focus on getting through the contractions as they were keeping up
with their previous intensity. So, back in the tub for a while,
trying out a few different positions to keep my legs stretched

I got out again a while later when I got cold again and both MWs
emptied bucketfuls of water so the pool would have room for a new
infusion of warm water. I sat on the birthing stool while DH
supported me from behind. A little while later, B checked and
pronounced me 9½ and stretchy to 10, and said I could push if I felt
like it. What a great relief – I'd made it past my 9-cm limit from my
c/s labor. Yay! Soon I did start to feel pushy and B coached me
through directing the energy of each contraction downwards. I was
sitting on the stool leaning back on DH and pushing when my water
broke in a splash all over the floor (hooray for hardwood floors!). B
checked me again and said the BOW had been holding the cervix open the
last centimeter or so, and now I was back to 9 so I should try not to
push. Oh geez, just when I was getting the hang of it! I wasn't sure
I could keep myself from pushing, but I heard enough stories of
swollen cervices to know I should at least try. I decided I needed to
get back in the pool for a while.

Almost as soon as I did I hit that wave of non-stop contractions that
sometimes accompany the transition period (I often think this was my
physical transition, though the emotional helplessness that's supposed
to go with it came much earlier for me). I must have had 12 or 15
contractions in a row, one peak after another, and all I could do was
hold on the edge of the pool and try to breathe my way through it.
Eventually regardless of my brain telling me not to push, my body
wouldn't listen and I just gave in. I couldn't have not pushed even
if I'd wanted to, and oh how I could have used the break! But I was
just glad to be pushing my baby out.

I tried some different positions in the water and settled on sitting
up, my torso more or less perpendicular to my legs, with my legs
stretched out in front of me. I'd been letting the stress and tension
of the labor build up in my legs and they felt so tight and tense that
I couldn't squat or even kneel anymore. Every muscle ached and I
tried to stretch and rotate them between contractions.

After pushing for quite a long time I started to wonder if she were
ever going to come down – how long could this take? Where was the
"three pushes and out" experience I'd heard some women have?
Apparently the duration of the second stage was weighing on B's mind
too, because she offered that they could give me a tincture of black
and blue cohosh to help move things along. They were concerned that
the contractions were still about 5 minutes apart and this could go on
for quite a while longer and was getting more and more fatigued. At
first I couldn't decide what I wanted – it took a lot of effort to
make my brain get into that decision-making mode and I don't think I
even entirely did. I knew I'd read a few mixed things about using the
cohoshes to help start labor, but didn't know what I thought about
their use to help speed it up. I ended up just never accepting nor
declining. It was just a refusal by default and they didn't push the
matter. In hindsight, I think I also knew that I just couldn't do more
than I was doing right then. My body had its own wisdom and that
meant keeping the contractions a little further apart so I could cope
and muscle my way through. At that point I just couldn't fathom
dealing with more intensity, even if it did mean getting it all over
sooner.

B coached me to keep my pelvis forward, I guess so the baby could make
it under the pubic bone. I was getting encouragement from all sides –
"you're doing great, just keep it up," "don't let up – keep feeling
the stretch," etc. etc. I so wanted it to be over with! I wanted
someone to DO something to make it happen. At one point I recall
yelling, "just get this baby out of me!" In response came B's gentle
reprimand: "It's your baby. YOU have to get her out." Oh, yeah… how
had I forgotten that? No way out but through, right?

I was having a hard time feeling her descending, but B checked and
said she was just a fingertip's distance from crowning and to keep it
up. The end in sight! Except that I couldn't keep my eyes open,
even though they put a mirror in the pool so I could watch her
crowning. I had to keep my eyes shut through the contractions just to
shut out everything and concentrate on bringing her down. I started
to feel that burning stretch of the tissues and heard some murmurs of
excitement when they said her head was coming. And then all of a
sudden, she was out with a woosh! It was a bit of a shock to see her
floating there for a split second. I had done it! I had a momentary
feeling of confusion and disbelief, as all the pain disappeared and
the joy and true exhaustion started to sink in. One of them brought
her up to my chest and brought her face out of the water and I
supported her and held her as they put a hat on her head and wrapped
her in towels, still half-submerged in the water. It turns out that
she also had a nuchal left hand, which helps explain the long pushing
stage.

We got some bonding time while we waited for the placenta to separate
and I greeted my new little girl. We had intended to wait for the
cord to stop pulsating, but it just kept going and going, as M said it
might as long as I stayed in the water so after about 10 minutes we
decided it would be okay if we tied it off and DH cut it.

Anya was getting cold and my legs were still shot. I knew it would
take some time for me to make it out of the pool so DH took her and
gave her some skin-to-skin treatment while I got out of the pool.
While I steadied my legs, Anya started to fuss and DH brought her over
so I could nuzzle her face to mine and she stopped fussing instantly.
What a bonding rush! WHAM, I was hooked!! I could feel the prolactin
kicking in and I couldn't wait to get out of that pool so I could hold
my little girl again.

With M's help, I willed my legs up and over the side of the pool. I
had to give one more good push to get the placenta out ("no, please,
no more pushing," I begged, but B reminded me that this one had no
bones so it wouldn't hurt). One good push and a huge placenta came
out, one of the largest ones they'd seen in a long time they said –
good, healthy mama!

B and M got me dried off and settled on the couch, all the while with
me watching DH and Anya like a hawk and saying, "Ok, now… now… I'm
ready, give her to me!" DH hesitated because he was pretty sure it
would be days before I'd give her up for him to hold her again. They
helped us start nursing and Anya was thankfully also eager to suck. M
made us eggs and toast while we enjoyed examining all her beautiful
little parts. She was a solid 8 pounds even – nearly a pound heavier
than my posterior c/s baby, and 22 inches long (tall like her daddy!).

I had a small skin tag that required 4 stitches, but otherwise made it
through okay. Recovery was tougher than I anticipated thanks to an
uncomfortable perineum and some pushing-induced hemorrhoids, but then
I had to remind myself that I was up and walking, and after my c/s I'd
been confined to a bed for a few days.

Prologue:
I never did get that peaceful early labor in the moonlight. And the
next few weeks after the birth turned out to be incredibly difficult
as a confluence of factors threatened the establishment of our nursing
relationship. Anya fought off jaundice, a cold-turned-ear-infection,
tongue-tie, and a trip to the ER for some mild dehydration, all in
those early couple of weeks. We struggled to get her back up to her
birth weight. I felt my old nursing demons haunting me as I'd never
been able to build a mutually enjoyable nursing experience with DS,
despite breastfeeding exclusively, and then with supplementation for
about 8 months. But about 2 ½ weeks after the birth, one night after
a day that held just a couple of encouraging nursing moments, I had
her slung to me in our stretchy wrap and I walked out on the deck to
find a beautiful full moon streaming its light through the leafy
trees. The warm breeze I'd fantasized about caressed us and I soaked
in that moonlight and started to feel just a few shreds a faith
starting to build. I knew we would be okay… and we are.

-Melinda

A Simple Kind of Birth

This birth story can not be fully understood unless you know about the birth of my first child, a beautiful, spirited boy, Gabriel Kelly.  I was naive and uneducated about birth; I had no clue that there were any options other than having an obstetrician in a hospital.  My 18 hour labor started early one morning with my water breaking at home, I got right to the hospital where I was laid in bed, subjected to at least 42 cervical checks (I lost count), every single intervention that they could present, including an epidural that did not work properly causing me to shake violently, all culminating in a very traumatic 'emergency' Cesarean Section for failure to progress/fetal distress, wherein the spinal was placed 'too high' and I could not feel my lungs breathing for the entire operation.  I suffered in silence from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Postpartum Depression in the months following, nobody knowing the true depth of my sorrow.  In August of 2006, my husband mentioned having another child someday; I agreed to consider it on the condition that I would not have another Cesarean Section.

    In the months following, I delved in to research, reading anything and everything having to do with all things birth, I did little else in those months but read about birth, talk about birth and breastfeed Gabriel.  I wanted to be fully prepared to ask or answer any questions I had to; I read all of my mother's nursing books, she had just gotten her RN degree that very same year, so they were accessable.  I realized all of the things I could/should have done differently in order to get the natural, joyful birth I had desired; afterwards, I wrote my Lamentation of Birth, Gabriel's birth story.  I attended a few local International Cesarean Awareness Network (ICAN) meetings and joined the email list under the advice of a local homebirth midwife who had a Cesarean Section herself, and soon after I joined ICAN as a member.  Ross and I decided after all our research and revelations we would be happiest and safest having an unassisted birth at home when we got pregnant again.  In November of 2006 we did just that, unbeknownst to us... well, more bluntly, our condom broke.  I continued breastfeeding Gabriel until about April when he weaned himself, much to my dismay, because I so loved our nursing relationship. I had not wanted to conceive until Gabriel was at least two years old, but the universe had other plans I guess...  All in all, my pregnancy was very healthy and happy, I was active and very excited to have another baby coming. I did my own prenatal care, even checking the baby's heart rate from time to time with a stethoscope I borrowed from my mother, save one prenatal visit to an obstetrician to get 'proof of pregnancy' in case I needed it for a birth certificate or something.  I continued learning all I could about birth all the while forming my own ideas and ideals; making it my own, so to speak. 

    My labor started very slowly and lightly with irregular, weak contractions on Friday night August 17th, my sister was over for the weekend and we took her home on Saturday evening. The whole hour and a half drive out to my parents home I was having 'secret' contractions every few minutes, because we were keeping my family in the dark about our birth plans so as not to cause needless conflict and stress, so I could gestate in peace. On our way home, I knew I wanted to have this baby soon, so we decided to go to the mall and walk around for a few hours.  On Sunday August 19th when it came time for Ross to get ready for work at about 9 pm we were not sure if he should go in or not, so I asked him to check my cervix, I was open to 6 cm, so we figured he could call in to work and stay with me, get the birth tub ready and get Gabriel in to bed. Ross made me some wild rice soup because I figured I was in for a long night and I would be hungry, by the time I finished the bowl I was ready to get in the tub and relax, I must have been waiting for Gabriel to be sleeping for labor to really pick up... 

    In the tub, I was moving around constantly in slow voluptuous movements; I was never still during a contraction, if Ross laid his hands on me in any way, even if it was very gently or lightly, I felt as if I was put in a cage and I would panic causing the contraction to hurt rather than just take focus, I needed complete control over any touching, so I touched him when I needed contact, but he had to keep his hands off.

    An hour or two later, I must have been in transition; I was in and out of the tub every other contraction because nothing felt 'right' for very long; I thought to my self, 'I must be in transition; I am acting like an animal right now!'  Finally, I chose to make a little nest of pillows on the mattress we had put on the floor in front of our couch.  I was leaning on the couch and my pillows in between contractions and rising up like a wave and either kneeling or squatting down deeply for contractions.  All of my thoughts at this point were 'soft and round', like a woman.  After a while I started sleeping between contractions which was so nice because I was beat, and my sleepiness must have been catching because I looked up at Ross who was sitting on the couch and he was sleeping too!  At this point the 'pain' was very intermittent (when a contraction would 'sneak up' on me, it hurt more), and mostly located in the tops of my thighs and sometimes in my hips.

    Suddenly starting at the base of my skull and moving down like a wave, my body started pushing; it was a very strange sensation, kind of hot, dizzy and tingling like being tipsy.  I looked up at Ross quizzically and said, "I'm pushing?"  He gently replied "I know; it's okay if that's what your body has to do."  I taught him well, I think.  I had been so determined not to consciously push at all, to just 'go with the flow' so to speak, and that is what happened, I made sure not to think about it too much.

    My water broke with a loud pop during a contraction I was rolling my hips through, after the contraction I compulsively looked down at the sheets to make sure the water was clear, it was, and I wondered why I looked, I Knew it was fine...  I continued rocking, rolling my hips, rising and falling and pushing when the need struck.  I liked when my body pushed, it (and I) felt so ethereal, so powerful and Devine, yet very primal at the same time. 

    I kept this up for a while watching the trees sway back and forth in rhythm with me, mirroring the ebb and flow of my body, suddenly I was compelled to tell Ross "If you're going to catch this baby, you better get back there."  I guess I did not want him jumping behind me abruptly and shaking the bed when I needed concentration and stillness.  I reached inside of myself to see what I could feel, and I swore I was touching a tiny butt cheek, I asked Ross what he could see, the baby was just centimeters from crowning and he could not see anything.  After a few more contractions (they seemed very far apart, who knows how long it really was), I asked Ross "What is it?" (meaning a butt or a head, obviously I knew it was a baby) he said nothing for a long time because he could not tell what it was, aside from a wrinkly wet 'thing', and he wisely avoided saying "I don't know" knowing intuitively a reply like that would not be received very well at all, very soon though, he saw it had hair, and told me so; I was a little relived, although I was totally comfortable being at home by ourselves if the baby had been breech, I was just so sure that the baby was in the LOA position and I honestly would have been a little annoyed if I had been wrong.  

    Out of nowhere it felt like Ross was pulling my labia apart to get a better look, I said, "Don't touch, don't touch it!" he was not touching me at all, although he did not say anything back, I got the impression the intense stinging was not going to stop, and was the baby's head, not Ross' hands.  I got scared at that point, the fact that a baby was coming out of my vagina some how snuck up on me, and the sting got way worse (I will probably always wonder if it was the head stretching me open more, the fact that I was scared, or both...), with the next push Ross said the head was out, and then said, "Hang on honey, the cord's wrapped." Now, in my head I was screaming 'No, no, no, that feels wrong, stop touching, please.'  But, I actually said, very calmly and sweetly, "Don't worry, just unwrap it when the baby's out."  I felt the baby turn to let the shoulder out, and the baby slid out in to Ross' hands on the bed.  The stinging was instantly gone, and I turned around and held my screaming, bright pink baby so close, I said, "Hi, oh my baby, I love you so much, I'm your mama, I love you! Hi there, oh, was it so bad to be born?" I felt a little lump on the side of the head and I kissed it and said, "Oh, that's what that squishy thing was!" The baby had had its head tilted to the side and I tore a little on the right side of my vagina because of that...

    I moved the baby off my chest for a second to see what gender we had made together and I saw she was a very pretty girl, I Knew we had a girl through the whole last trimester of my pregnancy, I just Knew...  Ross had seen it was a girl right away, but he remembered I wanted to see for myself and not be told (Thank you for remembering, Ross!).  I was examining her very long cord, which she had not only wrapped around her neck but also her body, it was really pretty shade of bluish purple.  Wise baby, protecting herself from a cord prolapse like that!

       I was amazed with how girly and delicate her hands and feet were, Gabriel's were so huge compared to hers! She was so girly from the start, very pretty, delicate and SO loud; she is woman, and we hear her ROAR!  I decided to get back in the still warm and inviting birth tub to clean of just a bit, covered in blood and meconium as we were...  we got out after Ross took the bloody sheets and plastic off the bed and we crawled in and wrapped in our favorite wool quilt and settled in to nursing while we waited for the placenta.  The cord had turned white and limp, so we tied and cut it, I got up to push the placenta out in to a bowl, and it did not hurt like I was expecting it to.  I looked it over and it was whole and intact and a bit heavier than I had expected. I smelled it for some reason, and it had a unique and kind of cool smell, nothing I would bottle, but interesting nonetheless...  I ran a hot bath for myself so I could wash off a little better as I still had blood and meconium on my face.  I talked to my mom and my dad on the phone, finally being honest and open with them about our birthing at home which was a relief.  They were in awe, and not upset at all as far as I could tell.

    We settled in to bed for the night until around 7 am, when Gabriel woke up to meet his sister.  He came out and said, "Baby!! Meow, baby!!" I guess she sounds like a kitty.  He gave her kisses and was so sweet; to this day he will never refuse to kiss 'his' baby, he will sometimes refuse to kiss Mama and Daddy, but never his baby. 

    After doing this I feel like I can do anything I put my heart in to, it is amazing to feel like that again, after my Cesarean Section with Gabriel, I did not feel like myself, a lot was taken away from me that day, not just the chance to push out a baby, but a lot of my 'self' was taken, a lot of my fire and spirit along with most of my confidence.  I had been banking it all up since August 2006 when I had resolved to take control of my birthing, putting it all in layaway a little at a time, and I finally got it all back the night I had Violet, with interest!  Ross says I even look different.  I definitely feel different, I feel redeemed and proud of myself for accomplishing so much in such a short time, I also feel like I absolutely must help to spread this feeling to as many women as I can.

    I know that unassisted birth is not ideal for everyone, but for me, it is the only way I feel I could safely and securely give birth; for me, any interference at all, 'good' or 'bad', would have ruined my Violet's birth.  I respect the need for well trained obstetricians in hospitals or operating rooms, in the cases when medical care is prudent; so it isn't like I have something against doctors or hospitals, it is just, I personally do not need all that to give birth. I love and respect the work that midwives do, their wisdom and their dedication to a profession that is really unappreciated by our society at large; I have every intention on training as a midwife in the future when my children are a little older, not requiring my undivided attention and are no longer breastfeeding, so it is not as if I have something 'against' midwives, I simply would never have been comfortable being myself in front of a midwife, even if she was a friend, I would never have really been able to let go and just birth. I know that for sure. The simple truth is this: Ross is the only person who really knows what I am all about, he really knows what I need and want and he can do it without disturbing me or even without thinking, and in the moment of birthing, that is the most important thing, I think.  We were the best midwives I could ask for. A great number of couples do not have the sort of relationship conductive to unassisted birth, and some do; a great number of women do not have a personality conductive to birthing alone, and again, some do.  I had no real desire to be all alone, I wanted Ross to be with me, idle but present, and that is what he was; it was perfect.  For us. 

    I think we in the birthing 'community' need to realize everyone has individual needs and desires, some need and desire to be completely alone, some want a midwife, some want their mothers, some want an obstetrician and an epidural and we all need to respect and support those needs and wants. All women need to have choices, many varied choices that they can choose from freely without worry of people thinking they are 'crazy' or 'weak' or 'radical'. I felt the need to keep our plans for an unassisted birth a secret among many of our family members and friends until after the fact because I could not deal with the fearful, rude and even downright snarky comments and 'looks' during my pregnancy if I were to be peaceful and happy, which has since made me resolve as long as a woman has educated herself with accurate truthful information about all of her choices I have no place thinking (or saying) anything but supportive things, even if she has decided to have an elective Cesarean Section operation after being fully informed of risks and benefits.

    I think we could all resolve to make sure women are well educated about their options for birth. It is in our hands, we have the ability to change things for the better, if only we would act to do so. We must let the well educated woman choose what is best for her and her family in birth, and then just let her choice be, whether or not we think it is the 'right' choice; it will make for happier, easier pregnancies and a much more simple kind of birth.

-Jasmine Rae Ojala

My HBAC Story

I don't know where to start my birth story. I could start by talking about when I got pregnant, or about the 9 months of constant nausea and vomitting, accompanied by kidney infections and utter discouragement, or about how I was pregnant a full month longer than I expected. But since I have a really beautiful baby to play with, I will just cut to the chase and get to the birth story.

- Amy E. McKinley

Leila & Sarah’s Birth Story

Background info:

First birth was in the hospital and augmented with Pitocin.  I had PIH during the pregnancy and a few complications, but nothing too serious. 

Second birth was a planned homebirth but I risked out of the midwife’s care at 42 weeks and ended up with a c-section because the baby showed late decels.  He had a tight nuchal cord.  He weighed just over 11 lbs at birth.

I know this story will be long, but this has been the most incredible experience of my life!  I have learned to trust in God more and to be patient and surrender my concerns to Him.  I can’t even begin to express how this has made me feel.  I could go on and on about my previous pregnancies and births and what I went through with this twin pregnancy.  But I will try to keep it short…

My third pregnancy was a total shock because we found out at 22 weeks (on Dec. 30, my birthday!) that we were having twin girls.  We had been planning a homebirth but knew that the midwife would no longer see us since she did not attend twin births.  Added to the fact that I was planning a VBAC, I was sure things were going to be more complicated.  Thankfully, my pregnancy was not complicated at all!  I never went on bedrest, never had any problems, the girls were both good sizes…  Baby A was breech and we were told she had a single umbilical artery.  She flipped to vertex after 3 visits with my chiropractor.  I went into labor at 39 weeks, 1 day, on the day the backup OB had wanted to perform an elective repeat cesarean, which I refused.

On Friday morning, April 28, 2006, my water broke at 12:53.  I had gone to sleep just before 11 pm and was already in a pretty deep sleep but my eyes opened when I felt the “pop” and I was immediately awake.  I flooded the entire side of the bed and soaked through our new king size mattress.  When I sat up I was wet up to the neckline of my shirt in the back!  I stood up and gushed on the floor right in front of our dog Delmar. 

I was pretty sure things were going to happen quickly so I woke Jason and then called the midwives and my mom.  At that point I was having contractions every few minutes, but no more intense than the ones I’d been having for weeks.  The midwives had a long drive so I wanted to make sure I let them know right away. 

I also should mention that I had never met 2 of the midwives that attended the birth.  Two weeks before I had the babies I got a call from one of my midwives saying that because of some recent “bad outcome” births, they were not going to attend my birth because I was too “high-risk” and they could get into trouble if anyone found out.  I understood but I was crushed anyway.  I knew I would have a hard time finding another MW, especially so late in the pregnancy.  This is when  I started to question things myself and through several small miracles, I found my “angel” midwives. 

My friends helped me search and offered alternatives to birthing at my home.  I considered driving out of state or attempting an unassisted birth.  I thought about going to the hospital when I was ready to push….  Then one day I got a call from an angel I’ll call “L.”  L told me she had been given my name and wanted to see if she could help.  I was almost 38 weeks pregnant at this point.  I loved talking with her and felt comfortable asking her to attend my birth.  Nothing was finalized though.  The Tuesday before the girls were born I got a call from the midwife who had dropped me a week earlier.  She had reconsidered and wanted to attend the birth if I needed her there.  I’ll call her “T.”

When I called “L” at 1 am on Friday, she called the MW who would assist her, “B.”  I had never met, nor spoken to B before.  I quickly learned though that she was the same MW I had emailed a few days earlier at the suggestion of a friend!  I thought it was great how things were coming together.  I paged T but she didn’t get the pages and didn’t call back.

I’m not sure when it was, but at some point around 4 or 5 am the contractions started to get pretty intense. I took a shower at 4:45 am which helped a little bit.  I remember telling Jason that I need the MWs to hurry up so I could really get going.  I felt like I could slow things down at will and I made myself relax on the couch and rest for a couple of hours.

At 7:22 am B and L arrived and I was moaning away in the bedroom.  It was crazy because the second I saw them (for the very first time!) I felt totally at ease.  They truly felt like angels.  They checked me and determined that I was 5-6 cm and stretchy to 7 cm.  I remember thinking “is that IT?”  I had wanted them to say I could start pushing but in a way I knew I still had more work ahead of me.  They also discovered that a bit of Baby A’s cord has slipped in front of her head but they slid it back and everything was fine.  It must have been around this time that Jason got a call from T because she had seen my missed calls.  She got in her car and hurried to get to our house.  She lives about 3 hours away.

I remember changing positions a lot…  I took a shower at 8:20 am.  I was on the bed at one point when they checked me and said I was 7-8 cm.  This was at 9 am.  I couldn’t stand to be on the bed though.  I spent a lot of time leaning over the edge of the bed on my knees, using the bed to rest my arms and head.  I remember moaning “oouuuuttt” and telling the babies that it was time to be born.  Finally I felt like I almost wanted to push.  They checked me (it was 10:30 am) and said I was complete but had an anterior lip.  I was ready to be done by now.  The contractions were incredibly intense and I was worn out.  I wanted to get those babies out of me!

At 11 am L and B went into the kitchen and I moved into Jason’s computer chair.  I had a cold washcloth that I was rubbing on my face and I got really quiet during the contractions.  I sat with my eyes closed and thought about the lip of my cervix melting away.  I must have looked like I was asleep because I heard L tell B that I hadn’t had contractions in several minutes.  I wanted to tell them otherwise but I couldn’t make myself speak.  They were still in the kitchen when I suddenly started to bear down and knew that I was pushing the baby out.

I dropped to my knees and draped myself over the edge of the bed.  I guess I made some noise because L and B came running in and started putting pads down under me.  Around this time T showed up.  I was pushing with every contraction but I wasn’t really doing anything, my body was.  I felt like my body was in control so I just kneeled there and let it do its work.  This was around 11:30 am.  Jason and both of the boys were in the room watching as Baby A was born.

I reached down and felt Baby A’s head as she crowned and every thought disappeared from my head.  She was born seconds later and I lifted her into my arms.  It was 11:53 am.  She had a very short cord though, so I had to cut it before I could nurse her.  I put her to my breast and immediately felt the urge to push again.  I passed the baby to the MWs and told them the baby was coming!  L checked and felt a tiny hand presenting.  I sensed a little urgency as she pushed the hand back up and told me to push even if I wasn’t contracting.

Let me say it is not easy to push when you don’t have the urge and your body is tired from pushing out a baby already.  I tried but it was weak.  Thankfully I had another contraction right away and my body took over again.  Baby B was born at 12:07 pm.  I felt like I had no break in between babies, they both came so fast.  Matthew had decided that  baby A was Leila so Jason told me that we had figured out who was who. 

I climbed back into Jason’s chair with Sarah still attached.  I nursed her and Leila as we waited for the placenta.  I cut Sarah’s cord and the placenta came shortly after at 12:15 pm.  It was huge and looked almost as big as a baby!  After that I got into bed and we were all checked out.  I had a minor tear from the incident with Sarah’s hand presenting.  I didn’t get any stitches though.  We weighed the girls and they were both exactly the same… 7 lbs, 6 oz!  After being examined by 4 MWs, it was determined that both babies had both of their umbilical arteries after all.  All that worry for nothing.  God is good!!!  I honestly believe that He provided me with 3 angels to take care of me and my babies and ensure that they had a safe and gentle entrance into this world.

I should also mention that although I was loud and at times I said I was not going to “do this anymore”, there was never a point when I didn’t feel totally safe.  I completely trusted in God, the midwives, and my body.  The thought of complications never entered my mind and I was never concerned about uterine rupture from my previous c-section.  I think God took away all of my concerns that I had lifted up to Him in prayer so many times.  It was just an incredible, wonderful experience!!!

Leila Beth born April 28, 2006 at 11:53 am

7 lbs, 6 oz 

20 ½ inches

Sarah Grace born at 12:07 pm

7 lbs, 6 oz

20 ¼ inches

-Heather

Anna Cate's Birth Story

I had contractions Thursday night and Friday morning pretty much exactly
like I had been having for two weeks, so I really just assumed it was more
prodromal labor. Later in the morning Friday, I noticed contractions were
getting a little closer together and a bit more painful, even when I was in
the water. We went ahead and called the midwife/doula who came over to
check things out. Baby's heart rate was perfect, and I had dilated to about
3cm with some bloody show/mucous. She suspected that it was going to be
long labor, since it was essentially my first time (b/c Clayton was induced
and ended in csection). She went back home to replenish supplies and get a
little rest.

As the day went on, the contractions got a bit more intense but the timing
pattern was all over the place. I was still able to do things around the
house and get some rest for a while. In the evening, I decided we needed to
go ahead and call my aunt to help with Clayton, and I got back in the tub.
The midwife called to check back in and said to see how things were for the
next hour or so and then get back to her. The pain was still getting a bit
worse, but there was still no good pattern. The midwife came back by anyway
and did another check. I was still around 3-4cm, so she just gave me some
ideas for getting some rest for the night. Since we still assumed labor was
going to be long and slow, she headed back home for a while.

It wasn't long before the contractions became extremely intense and started
to come pretty close together. I was having some back labor and started to
need help getting through the contractions. I started to be more vocal, and
suddenly started having flashbacks to Clayton's labor. I think somewhere
inside I panicked, thinking something must be wrong if I felt like I did
with Clayton. I felt that I needed to go to the hospital at that point. I
had not packed myself a bag yet (I know.), so I started trying to do that.
Jason had to finish and help me get dressed because I just could not get
through the pain. I ended up pretty much curled up in the fetal position on
the bed moaning and crying through the contractions that I wasn't getting
much of a break between anyway. My body was also shaking uncontrollably.
Clayton was starting to get a little frightened seeing me that way.

Jason came and told me that we needed to go get in the truck, and I just
told him he'd have to call the ambulance because there was no way I could
move. The dispatcher had him undress me again to make sure there was no
cord or anything coming out (which I knew there wasn't), and the paramedics
arrived quickly. I had to get up and walk outside anyway (half naked.lol)
so they wouldn't have to carry the stretcher up and down our front stairs.
As they were lifting me into the ambulance, the wheels didn't lock into
place and the stretcher fell out into the yard :-)! I was fine and even
thought it was pretty funny, but I was in too much pain to laugh. Jason
followed in our truck, so it was just me and the paramedic in the ambulance.
Before we got to the hospital we stopped and she told me we had been stopped
by a train and would be at the hospital in just a minute (I knew where we
were then). I just said, "Oh.my.God!" But, we were rolling again in just a
minute and at the hospital entrance quickly.

They had to take me to the closest hospital which has a VBAC ban. I had
already resigned myself to having another cesarean because I just knew
something was wrong anyway. They brought me straight to L&D and began
preparing for the surgery (still waiting for the OR team and doctor to
arrive). When the nurse first checked me, I was still about 4cm. I was
clutching the bedrails and being very vocal through the contractions. The
nurses were so busy trying to get things together (and there were only two
of them on the floor!!). Jason had not gotten there yet because he had to
drive slower than the ambulance. I was left alone for a minute and with the
next contraction I felt a pop and a gush on the bed. I called the nurse and
said that my water had broken. When she checked me again, I was already to
7-8cm!!! One of the nurses said, "You might be getting that VBAC after
all!" I was so disoriented and afraid, I didn't know whether to be happy or
terrified!!

The nurse left for a minute again, and Jason had come in. I was trying to
tell him everything was fine. With the next contraction I felt so much
pressure in my bottom. I screamed to the nurse that I felt like she was
coming. She was running around trying to get gloves on and yelling for me
not to push yet! She checked me and yelled for the other nurse and the
doctor (who was trying to get my records sent over from the other hospital).
I was complete and ready to push! They got me set up in the "lovely"
stirrup/hand bar position and the doctor explained how I was to push with my
next contraction. I was immediately bearing down and growling through
contraction number one! I already had a hemorrhoid (sorry) and I could feel
it when I pushed. That made me want to back off and refocus my push the
wrong way. The baby's heart rate deceled a little but the doctor was so
great and didn't seem too concerned. She just reminded me to focus and bear
down toward my bottom.

I could feel the baby moving down, and although it was so painful, I was SO
relieved to be "doing" something through the contractions! Just a few more
pushes and out came the head! I screamed at that point because it burned
but it was such a relief to get past! One more quick push and she literally
shot right out into the doctor's hands. Jason was bawling and just kept
saying, "Oh my God! There she is! You did it!" They put her on my tummy
right away, and I finally opened my eyes and saw my beautiful little girl.
I could not believe it. "I did it! We did it! Hi baby!" Jason cut the
cord and they took her to the warmer to suction her a little (she had a lot
of fluid in her lungs still). Jason was SO happy and excited, and I was so
relieved! I was still dreading delivering the placenta, but it came quickly
and relatively painlessly and looked great (well, from a medical perspective
;-)). I was so relieved, exhausted, and entirely overwhelmed. I was still
shaking like crazy and felt a bit out of control and delirious (and
blabbering about I don't even know what).

Anna Cate's APGARs were 9/9 based only on her color (she was a little
pupleish/grayish for a while). She was very calm and alert and just
perfect. My mom made a comment later that she was surprised at how alert
and peaceful she was, and I told her it was because she was born the way she
was supposed to be-without drugs! I had a hard time holding her for a while
because of the shaking and weakness.

We had arrived at the hospital around 11PM, and she was born at 11:56PM
after about 3.5ish hours of active labor and 10 minutes of pushing! (Jason
says now I cannot complain about women who have fast labors :-)). She
weighed 7 pounds 11 ounces and was 21 inches. So far her hair is sandy
brown (and a lot thinner than Clayton's was) and we can't tell the eye color
still.

I had no time for drugs (they did try to give me something, but it was too
late to help me or to get through to the baby, thankfully) and THANK GOD no
time for a csection! I also did not need an episiotomy and had no tearing
at all! (I asked her right away because everything was so fast).

Jason went with the baby to the nursery while I had some time to myself to
regroup a bit. We started calling people because most (including our
parents!) didn't even know I was really in labor. As soon as Anna Cate was
back in my room, we gave her a quick wash off and started nursing right
away. She has been a wonderful nurser and pretty good sleeper so far. A
totally different experience all around from Clayton!

I have been sore and slow moving (apparently we have a very complex muscle
system, all of which is used during labor ;-)), but recovering from a
vaginal birth has been AWESOME compared to a cesarean!! I've been able to
get up, hold/pick up/nurse/care for my baby. I even cleaned my hospital
room up a little a couple times.LOL.

The doctor that delivered her was the one that actually did the cesarean
with Clayton. I have always liked her anyway, but she was SO awesome
helping me through the birth and since then. Everything the nurses refused
me (water/ice, pain meds, etc.) she made sure I got ;-)! And she is totally
against the VBAC ban and supportive of VBACs, ICAN, etc.!!! :-) She was so
happy I got the VBAC I wanted. I am so happy to have a great doctor I can
actually trust (she is also Clayton and now Anna Cate's doctor-family
practice). My old midwife came by to visit before we came home yesterday.
She said she was actually at the hospital when I came in, but they didn't
know who I was then, so she didn't know it was me. She would have been
there if she had known. She is also against the ban, and she was super
happy that I had the VBAC also.

Clayton has been really sweet with his little sister so far. I am very
proud of him. He has been giving her lots of kisses and petting on her.
Whenever someone stops by to visit (our church has been AWESOME bringing us
meals and everything), Clayton runs and announces he has a baby sister. He
just told me that she needed to wake up and eat, and pulled his shirt up to
see if she wanted to nurse.LOLOL!! ;-) I think he's going to be a pretty
good big brother.

- Cassie

Sophia's Birth

*This may rank among the longest birth stories ever written, but if you get
through it you will get to some killer action sequences…car chases…action
adventure extravaganza…I promise! And at the end, a breech homebirth after 2
cesareans and 55 hours of labor.*

The story of Sophia's birth has to start with Simon, whose planned natural
hospital birth center birth turned into a planned cesarean in labor because
he was persistently breech. I was terribly disappointed by the loss of the
natural and gentle birth I had wanted for him, and traumatized by an awful,
inadequately anesthetized surgical delivery and utterly insulting "care" in
the hospital. I spent the next year reading, learning, sleeping and
breathing birth and VBAC, and knew with certainty from before I conceived
that my next baby would be born at home. Lily's pregnancy was peaceful, I
had great midwives, enjoyed preparing for birth with hypnobabies, and looked
forward with complete confidence to my expected HBAC. But when my water
broke in early labor, it was nothing but gushing blood and clots, and we
ended up with an ambulance transport and emergency cesarean under general
anesthetic. I was deeply grateful that Lily was healthy despite a major
placental abruption, but devastated at the loss of everything I had hoped
for her and for myself in her birth – it killed me that I wasn't even
consciously there when she came into the world.

When I became pregnant around a year later, it was a bit of a surprise. This
time around I had no confident plans, no sure hopes. I felt that my
intuition had been broken and scarred by Lily's birth, and I was filled with
fear. My husband was uncomfortable with considering any out-of-hospital
options, my mother had begged me not to try again at home. Despite my fear I
knew I couldn't plan an elective repeat cesarean; it just wasn't in me to do
it. So I went back to the OB whom I had seen as backup during Lily's
pregnancy, and just planned to try for a vba2c in the hospital…with my
intuition and faith shaken, it seemed easiest to just go with what other
people thought was best. But as time went on, and I tried to visualize
myself going to the hospital to birth, it just didn't feel right. There was
no one who believed in me there, I would be only a big medico-legal risk
walking through the halls, trying to fight the system and birth my baby at
the same time. I found newish research showing that rates of complication
after two cesareans were not significantly different than the risks after
one….and more that showed the climbing risks to my health and life with each
subsequent cesarean…and found that there was a hospital within two miles of
my new home in case of emergency. And I knew that if no one else believed in
me, my midwives would. So as hard as it was to get over the fear of doing
things the same way as I had when they had ended so traumatically,
everything was pointing me toward giving homebirth another go. At 24 weeks I
called the midwives and made an appointment, and we started on the path
toward what would be Sophia's birth.

Around 30 weeks I began to suspect that I was carrying another breech baby –
felt that hard, telltale noggin right up under my ribs. At my 32-week
prenatal, B confirmed that she thought babe was breech too. We talked
briefly about her comfort with breech births, and she talked about their
hands-off approach and the more than a dozen breech homebirths they had
attended in the last few years. I wasn't sure what I would decide yet if the
baby stayed breech. I made a chiropractic appointment that same day, started
doing tilting exercises, and started reading the book "Breech Birth" that B
had lent me. After reviewing the research, thinking and praying, and seeing
that even ACOG had changed their guidelines in favor of breech birth since
Simon was born, I decided to continue with the homebirth plan, though not
without trepidation. I had an ultrasound at 36 weeks to confirm that the
butt and not the feet were presenting, and that the baby's head was flexed,
and all looked favorable for a vaginal breech. I was still seeing the OB as
shadow care, to maintain relationships in case of transfer, and I decided to
allow him to try a version at 37 weeks. I declined an epidural so that I
could maintain sensation and tell him to stop if it felt wrong. He got
baby's head about halfway down, but she was bracing with her feet, and on
the second attempt it did feel wrong and I stopped the process. She quickly
made her way back to her favorite comfy position, breech and left sacrum
anterior. I did not choose to share our homebirth plan outside of my
immediate family – really just my husband – so the OB assumed we would have
a cesarean, though I did not agree to schedule one at that time.

I really thought that the baby would come early, maybe around 38 weeks, as I
had heard that breech babies often do. And I hoped she would, because I was
concerned about having another big babe (Simon and Lily had both been 9+
pounds). But I was carrying small and W said she felt that baby was probably
around 6 pounds in the 37th week, and she didn't seem to be going anywhere.
By 40 weeks I was antsy, having bouts of prodromal contractions off and on
for several weeks, but she still felt to be around 7.5, still within
reasonable guidelines for a breech birth, so we hung in there. I saw the
shadow OB at 40 weeks 2 days, and got the hard sell for a scheduled cesarean
ASAP. I refused, but the doctor called on Thursday, March 29, saying my
cesarean was scheduled for Friday the 30th. I had my husband call her back
and tell her we wouldn't be coming. When I woke from a nap that afternoon, I
found an incredibly long message from her on the answering machine, the
upshot of which was that her schedule and 'the best interest of me and my
baby' required that I be there in the morning for the cesarean, which was
still on the books. I found this incredibly stressful and called my husband
to decide what to do about it…and while I was talking to him around 3 PM I
found I was having contractions that were stopping me in my tracks, every
few minutes. By the end of the conversation I asked him to come home because
I was having trouble paying attention to the kids and dealing with the
contractions at the same time. I wasn't sure that it was really labor, since
I had had a few bouts of pretty tough contractions that hadn't gone anywhere
over the past few weeks, but I definitely needed his help.

Eric got home around 4 PM, and I called W to tell her what was going on. She
suggested I take an extra dose of calcium/magnesium and extra water, because
that would calm things down if it were just an irritated uterus but wouldn't
stop the real thing. My mother-in-law came around 6 to take Simon and Lily
to her house, and I spent the evening just sort of puttering around between
contractions, watched a movie with Eric, had some dinner. We started
noticing the contractions coming closer together and stronger, and there was
bloody show along with them, so I called W again around 8 and she said it
sounded like it was time to have a baby. Eric decided to go get some rest,
and I lay on the couch listening to hypnosis scripts and breathing through
the ctx until W came around 11. I found that the hypnobabies plan of being
"loose and limp and relaxed" during the "wonderful birthing waves" just
wasn't doing it for me – I could not remain still at all, had to rock,
bounce, sway through them. Things continued like this for several more
hours…since B was out of town M, a midwife from Michigan, was coming down,
and she arrived at some point…lots of tough ctx 2 or 3 minutes apart, and I
decided to get in the tub around 1 or 2. At this point it really seemed like
things might go pretty quickly, but it wasn't to be… Was in there for a
while until I started dozing off between contractions, got up to go to the
bathroom, came back and sat in a recliner and things started to space out a
lot. I was still dozing in between contractions, and W suggested that I go
down and get in bed while things were slacked off so that I could get some
rest.

So I went down to bed and actually got decent rest between contractions, as
they had spaced out to maybe every 10-15 minutes. W came in every hour or so
to listen to the babe, who was doing fine, and around 7 am on Friday I got
up and W said they had another mom in labor. She asked if I was willing to
be checked to see where things stood so they could decide where to go and
when, and I was fine with that as I really wanted to know whether all the
contractions were doing anything or not. She found that I was fully effaced
and 5-6 cm, but that my cervix was still really posterior with the butt not
applied very well, which explained the slow progress. She pulled the cervix
forward and suggested I stay upright as much as possible – and also strongly
suggested that I eat a decent breakfast, as it could really take a while
longer. Eric went out for eggs and breakfast stuff, and I ate as much as I
could though nothing was really appetizing. Ctx were still strong but far
apart, 10-15 minutes. It was a beautiful morning and M suggested we take a
walk to see if that would move things along. They did pick up while I was
walking, but not by much. The midwives decided to leave to check on the
other mom, and left us with the Doppler to keep checking baby. I was fine
with this as I was starting to feel like a watched pot that was never going
to boil.

Eric and I spent the next few hours just hanging out, watched a weird German
movie about a girl who believed she was possessed by the devil, took another
walk. W and M came back around 4 to check on us – the other mom hadn't yet
had her baby either. Got checked and things were still pretty much the same,
again with the posterior cervix. They left again to give us privacy, we went
out to Blockbuster and rented yet more movies (and I had to hide behind the
shelves and bend over rocking with my hands on knees to get through the ctx
in between searching for a good flick), and picked up some Chinese food for
dinner. My dad came to pick up our laundry, and I was a little nervous
because we hadn't shared the plan with him or my mother, but I was fine
during the brief time he was at the house – I really wanted my labor to be
private until the baby was here. I was getting discouraged and worried…even
though W had assured me that the baby was fine, and that as long as vitals
were good and I could eat drink and pee, we could stick with it for as long
as it took. Before she left she had told me the story of another VBAC mom
who had labored 3 days, 3 centimeters a day, only between 7 pm and 3 am, and
the baby was born at 3 am on the third day. I held on to that story, and to
the 80+ hour UBAC that I remembered reading of – but I also had doubts that
this was really ever going to go anywhere or would ever pick up again. I had
shared with M my remembering Odent saying that breech births should be
smooth and progressive or you should give it up, and I wasn't sure that was
happening. She told me too that baby was fine, and that 6 cm was definitely
progress, that this was my third baby but my first vaginal birth and there
was nothing too unusual about what was going on.

I was also really starting to miss Simon and Lily, and just felt bored and
discouraged and tired. I talked to Eric about how I was feeling, that I was
worried, wondered whether I should just give it up and go have that cesarean
after all, that I didn't know what was going on. He just listened, asked why
I was feeling that way and whether I thought there was real reason for
concern. I decided that I would hang out a few more hours and try to figure
out what was going on. I called W around 11 still feeling pretty distraught,
feeling like this had been going on forever with no change in sight, and
once again she reassured me that everything was going fine except for a poky
labor, and said she would come again to check on us when they finished with
the other mom's birth ("She lapped you" Eric said…oh well), in a few hours.

I cried to Eric again about missing the kids, about feeling discouraged,
about not knowing what to do and that I just wanted them home. The labor was
manageable, I could do it for days if it kept going that way. But I couldn't
stand missing them and putting everyone's lives on hold for so long. So
despite its being almost midnight, we decided we would just go get the kids.
Eric told his mom, who had assumed we were going to the hospital, about our
homebirth plan and that it was just going slower than expected, and we
didn't know how long it would take and wanted the kids at home, and she was
very understanding and okay about it. We picked up the sleeping kiddos and
put them in the car, and labor started to pick up again on the drive home.
We put Simon and Lily in bed, and Eric went to lay down. I stayed in the
living room trying to rest on the couch, with contractions coming every 5 or
6 mins again. I was encouraged that maybe things would finally get moving.
When M and W arrived, I asked that they check me again, and W found I was at
around 7.5 cm, cervix still posterior. I was definitely heartened that there
was some progress, however slow. They decided to stay and sleep and see
where things were in the morning. The rest of the night is kind of a blur,
just moving around the house trying to deal with the contractions…I lay down
for a while, paced for a while, rocked on the ball, sat on the toilet, lay
down again. Most of my active laboring time I was alone, with everyone
sleeping, and that was okay.

The kids started waking up around 7 AM (we're all the way to Saturday
morning now), Lily got to nurse on the couch for a while as much as I could
stand it, and W suggested we call Mary to come watch them since I was
continuing to labor pretty heavily. I retreated into our bedroom while Eric
went out and took care of the kids and just kept it up, leaning over the
bed, trying to lie on my side since I was so tired (didn't work), more
bouncing, more rocking. At some point in the morning I got checked again and
W said I was at 9 or so, but with an anterior lip, since the cervix still
wasn't wanting to stay up front. She told me how to hold it myself, and I
tried to do that as much as I could during some contractions and in between.
Contractions were coming faster and harder and less of a break and it had
just been going on so long and I still didn't believe it would ever really
go anywhere or that I would really get a baby, and I started getting really
weepy, sobbing that I couldn't do this shit anymore…which of course I was
assured was 'just transition'. I decided to go up and get in the tub again,
stayed there who knows how long…by around noon I had made it to 10 cm. M
said "you did it, you're there…" but still I didn't believe it. Things
slowed down some then, I was just waiting on an urge to push but remembered
that there was sometimes a "rest and be thankful" stage between dilating and
pushing, and I was all in favor of that since I was exhausted. I just
relaxed and dozed between contractions, which spaced out some…drank a
smoothie that W made, got out of the tub and sat looking out a window in a
squeaky desk chair that was just right for rocking during ctx. Started
feeling like the babe was moving lower, like I could feel her ratcheting
downward millimeter by millimeter during ctx. But it was still kind of
chilled out just then.

Then I became aware of a commotion outside the room. I was confused to hear
the voice of my mother, who was definitely not invited. She had a vicious
and rageful tone in her voice, and was threatening that 'they have 5 minutes
to clear out of here or I am calling the police…I knew you would do this…I
love my daughter enough to stop her from killing herself'. It was insane and
I couldn't believe it was truly happening. In a fog I tried to take the
phone away from her, but Eric said no and that he would handle it, and told
her to leave the house. He called the police because she would not leave,
she called the paramedics. I stayed upstairs in a strange state of calm.
Decided I had better put on some clothes, so I got on a matching pair of
clean pajamas and got my glasses. Mary came up to check on me, and assured
me that Simon and Lily were okay and that M and W had left per Eric's
request. I heard the firetrucks and ambulance pull up outside, and I
wondered whether there would soon be people rushing into the house, but
nothing happened. I pictured different scenes of what could happen next, but
I knew that we had a right to refuse treatment and that Eric would stand up
for us. Labor pretty much stopped at this point, thank God – the
fight-or-flight response kicked in just when it was needed. I went
downstairs and nursed Lily for a few minutes. W called and told Mary to tell
Eric to request a waiver that we could sign to send away unwanted emergency
personnel, and a few minutes later he brought in the papers saying I needed
to sign them in front of the paramedics and they would leave. So I marched
outside in my nice pjs with Lily on my hip, and looked at about 15
paramedics, firefighters, a couple of police officers, and my mother, all
standing outside our front gate. I said to them that I did not require their
services, that I had not called for them, that I wanted them to leave and
would be happy to sign whatever they needed to make that happen. One of
them, an officious lady EMT, began a speech about killing my baby, plenty of
shroud-waving indeed, and that she needed to take my blood pressure. I said
"No, I don't consent to any treatment at this time, I will go to the
hospital myself if I feel it is needed, like any other pregnant woman in the
world" EMT said she had to call a doctor because of the "apparent
life-threatening condition" that we were in…I asked "what's life-threatening
here, I'm fine" and she blustered some about breech blah blah. She got
an OBfrom the hospital on the phone and held it out to me asking would
I please
speak with her; I said that I would call my doctor when I chose to do so and
no thank you. I just didn't want to give them any in that I had consented to
*anything at all*. So the EMT said I just had to "sign here so that if you
and your baby die I won't lose my job." I said "sure, we wouldn't want
that", signed on the dotted line that I refused services, and went back
inside. Incredibly, as I turned to go in, my mother called out "Cassidy, you
owe me the courtesy of at least coming to talk to me." I replied that she
had owed me the courtesy of not invading my privacy and my home and
threatening my family, and I didn't feel I owed her anything. Within 10
minutes or so they pulled out…it took the police a few minutes longer, and
my mother continued to sit on the curb in front of my home. Mary told me how
she had shoved her way into the house, and she had threatened me that if the
midwives came back she would call the police again. Since we live in a state
where CPMs are not licensed, we were concerned that their presence would
give cause for police to come in, so we decided that it would be safer to go
somewhere else to have the baby. Mary said we were welcome to come to their
house. So we prepared to "transport" for our homebirth at someone else's
house.

My mother was still parked outside our house, and after her wild behavior
and threats, we felt there was every chance that she would try to follow us
and call the police again. We got all the birth supplies that we could
gather out to the car – the midwives had left everything and gone home to
switch cars in case their license plates had been noted, and would meet us
at Mary's. As we all walked out to get into the car, my mother started her
car, and I realized that if she started out then, she could get around
behind our garage before we could get the kids in and get out. So I decided
to go speak with her while Eric got everyone situated and pulled the car out
and ready to take off.  I expressed to her how sorry I was that she had done
this, that it was going to burn bridges in our family that I didn't know
that I would be able to repair even if I wanted to. She said that if I or
the baby died, she would never forgive herself if she hadn't done something
to stop it. I said she had no reason to believe that we were going to die,
that life has risks, that I have made my choices based on plenty of thought
and care, but that this was not the time or place to discuss them. And then
I made a run for the car. We went around a bit of a long way, stopped in a
secluded parking lot for a bit to make sure she wasn't following, and then
went on to Mary's. Later I told Eric that it was as though all of my own
fears and doubts literally showed up on my doorstep in extreme physical
form, with flashing lights and death threats, and I got to physically face
them down and affirm that I was going to do this – and once this was done,
the final chapter of this birth saga could begin.

And of course, labor picked up again in the car on the way there. We checked
baby with the Doppler as soon as we arrived and she was still ticking along,
despite all the stress and excitement we were feeling. We got there about 5
PM, and Mary's husband had set up their bedroom for us, covered the bed and
chairs, lots of towels ready. Simon and Lily went to play in the playroom,
and Mary and her family and M and W arrived a few minutes later. They came
and hugged us, talked about what a time we had had and how sorry they were,
and then W told me that it was pretty likely that my cervix had closed up
some, and Mary had sent in some arnica 200c that I should take every 15 mins
for the next hour to deal with any cervical swelling, and we would see where
things were in an hour or so. So just back to laboring, I wandered around
the bedroom, got in and out of the shower, walked around the backyard
stopping to rock and moan. Around 6:30 M checked on me and the baby…7-8
centimeters. W told me "you are doing this, you are giving your baby a
gentle birth just like you dreamed, you're okay and we are here for you."
And I was back to transition for the second go-round. More crying, and this
time it wasn't only that I couldn't do it and it hurt too much but that it
was absolutely not fair that I had to do this part again! I had been doing
this for DAYS! I remember thinking that I would totally transfer and have a
cesarean just for the pain relief, if only it wouldn't take such a long time
riding in the car to get there. I just felt frantic with the pain though,
there was less and less of a break in between and I couldn't find anything
that made it better…no matter what position I was in I felt trapped when a
ctx would come, and all I could do was count the breaths and the moans,
picturing myself just going up and over the top of each one. One thing that
I did use from all my hypnosis practice was saying "peace", picturing my
belly and back more comfortable, but it was not a very peaceful-sounding
"peace" at all…more like the sound of a dying cow, or Eric said the chorus
of a death-metal song.  I got in the shower again, and when I got out I
noticed fluid running down my leg – finally my water had broken. We checked
again and the cervix was entirely out of the way, there was no cord
prolapse, and no feet presenting – everything was finally lined up right and
I could birth this baby. Have to say I still didn't believe it would happen
at all though.  I still didn't have any strong urge to push, but the
contractions were coming so fast, and finally it seemed that they just never
stopped…and it seemed to feel a little better if I would bear down some at
certain points, so I was doing that just for comfort.

I ended up on my hands and knees, sort of sitting back onto my heels to push
for a while. I could feel her starting to move down, and at the peak of one
push we saw meconium. Freaked me out for a minute thinking I was bleeding a
lot or something, but W assured me it was just mec, totally expected for a
breech birth, and I was actually encouraged that that meant we were getting
somewhere. W suggested that I could try squatting while hanging between
Eric's legs as he sat on the bed. As soon as I got up into that position,
the baby just rocketed down, I could feel her hit bottom. Within a couple of
pushes we could see bottom, and I reached down and felt, and funnily my
thought was "I guess this means it's too late to have a cesarean now". Then
I felt her moving down more and my perineum stretching, and a bizarre
sensation that she was spinning around or something. A few more pushes and
the butt was mostly out…then on the next push I felt her legs come free,
then arms, and Eric said "here's our baby sweetie, our baby is coming!" and
I looked down and saw her lying below me, and then W picked up her body and
I felt her head roll out, and there she was! My baby! In MY arms, slippery
and new. I rubbed her back, she opened her eyes up but wasn't breathing just
yet. M and W were checking her heart tones, sucking some gunk out of her
mouth, brought a bit of oxygen, and she pinked up quickly. W said "see, who
says breech birth is such a big deal!" I just held her in awe talking to her
and welcoming her, and Eric asked if it was a boy or a girl. I looked –
girl! Just as Simon had predicted.

I felt a gush of blood and fluid, and M cut the cord and the placenta was
born. I heard someone say "here's why she was breech!" There was a true knot
in her umbilical cord, apparently pretty rare. I guess she knew what she was
doing when she dug in her heels and refused to be flipped. I was thrilled to
be able to really eat again and had several pieces of the pizza that had
smelled so nauseating before; Simon came in to meet and kiss his new baby
sister. A bit later we got in the bath together and it was magical just to
be with her, enjoying her, getting to know her…and not on a morphine drip,
no hole in my guts, nothing shoved down her throat, never taken from me. I
had only a couple of little tears, no stitches. Eric, Lily, baby and I all
slept together until morning, Mary made breakfast and took great care of us,
and we headed home. Every bit of this harrowing, endless adventure had been
incredibly worth it, and I'll never forget it.

- Cassidy

Jules Michael Birth Story

Thursday, May 15 was my last day of work before maternity leave.  I went in that morning in great spirits, though on the train ride in I was feeling a few contractions, pretty typical of what I had been feeling for weeks.  At 8 am, I sat at my desk joking with my boss about how many times I’ve felt contractions that turned out to be nothing.

At 8:30 am, I felt a pretty painful contraction that was definitely unlike any others I had felt.  Then, I felt a little ooze, but I assumed I was imagining it.  I went to the bathroom, and there was my mucus plug!  I have never been so excited to see something so gross!  Since my first birth was an induction at 41 weeks with absolutely zero signs of labor, I was so thrilled to see my body showing the “signs.”

I had another hard contraction on the way back from the bathroom, so I stopped by my boss’s desk and said “um… I may need to leave soon… I’ll let you know.”

I sat back down and painful contractions started immediately.  I figured I’d try timing them and sure enough, they were 3 minutes apart, 60 seconds long.  I was still able to talk through them, so I called my aunt to have her keep me company on the phone and distract me while I counted them.  I decided to count them at least until John got to work at 9 so I could tell him if anything was happening.

By the time he got in at 9, I told him I thought we really needed to leave.  Shortly after, He came over to my desk and we took a look at the train schedule to figure out which train would get us home.  I had wanted to labor at home as long as possible before going to the dreaded hospital.  As we sat there it became very clear that the contractions were so hard and close together that there was no way we were going to make it home.  Since we were already downtown, the hospital was only a half hour cab ride away.

We went downstairs and flagged down a cabbie (who was NOT thrilled about letting a laboring woman into his cab.)  We arrived at the hospital somewhere right around 10 am, and at that point I could not talk at all through the contractions, and there was almost no break between them.

Holly, our doula, met us there.  The resident checked me and said I was completely effaced, 0 station, but only about 2 cm dilated.  Right away we got me into the shower to try to ease some of the pain, but the hospital shower was more like a cold water closet – absolutely no relief at all – so I only stayed in for about a half hour.  The nurses were supposed to be getting the tub ready for me, but they never got around to it.  Once I got back to the bed, the contractions were so hard and fast that I was yelling through them and the urge to push was unbearable.  Holly couldn’t believe that I was only at 2 cm when I was having transition-type contractions along with the urge to push, so she ran out to get someone to check me again while I was screaming in pain.  We all thought I had to be in transition, but when they said I wasn’t even close, I started begging for the epidural.  I wanted to go without it because I knew it would complicate my delivery, and my previous epidural experience was awful, but I just couldn’t bear that much pain for another minute.  I was starting to lose it.  Of course, I felt so guilty because I wanted to do this naturally, and I was so scared that it meant the beginning of the end of my “attempt” at VBAC.  I felt like a failure in front of Holly, but she was great about it and said that she didn’t blame me one bit with the type of contractions I was having and it being so early.  I couldn’t have lasted like that for another 8 cm, and I’m so glad that she made sure I didn’t feel weak for giving into the pain management.

At 1 pm, I got the epidural, and within a half hour I started to feel like a human being again.  After that, labor actually got pretty fun!  John, Holly and I all sat around joking and talking while I painlessly had contractions every 3 minutes, and by 6 pm I was at 7 cm dilated and +1-2 station.  I was so excited that I was so close.  I kept joking that if labor would be like this, I’d have ten more kids!  Then, a bunch of my family showed up and the roomful of people started to get really overwhelming.  I started to forget why I was even in the hospital at all.

Let me say that until this point, baby’s heart tones were completely perfect, and my body temp was a steady 99 degrees.

At 7 pm, the staff shift changed, and that ended up being the beginning of the bad news.  The new resident came in to check me and said I was at 5 cm.  I said “but the last doctor just said I was 7 cm – did I go backward?”  He said “No, that can’t happen.  She was wrong, you were never at 7 cm.”

I instantly became very sad and discouraged.  5 cm was all I got to with my first labor, and I suddenly felt so terrified that my body couldn’t dilate past 5 cm at all.  When he left the room, Holly reminded me that yes, a woman can go temporarily backward, which I knew from all my reading to be true. Then, my actual OB came in to see me for the first time and started telling me that we needed to consider augmenting my labor or giving me another c-section.  Then I started getting panicky.  I could see where this was going.

I told him that I wasn’t interested in that – he knew that because he had my birth plan – and maybe all the commotion from the visitors made me lose focus, and that I just needed to refocus my energy back on my labor and get things rolling again.  He told me that my “focus” had nothing to do with it and I probably just wasn’t able to get past 5 cm.  I said that one of the doctors told me I was 7 cm, and he also said “she was wrong.”  Even though I was scared of that being true, I told him that I hadn’t had enough time and I was not going to even consider giving up so soon.  He said something about him having been there “all day” and wanting to go home, so I told him he better go on home and come back to check on me in the morning because I wasn’t going to end my labor just because his day was over.  Things started to get heated and I couldn’t believe I was even having that conversation.  It was obvious that he was annoyed with me, but I didn’t care.  So then he started with the scare tactics – “but the baby is becoming tachycardic” and “your water has been ruptured for more than 8 hours, you both might get an infection.”

I told him that Jules heart rate had been perfect all day (which he should have known) and it was only getting a little higher because I was getting stressed out.  I needed to be left alone so I could get back to laboring.  He rolled his eyes and said he’d be back in the morning.

So, because the official pressure was on, John, Holly and I all put our heads together and got back to work.  Holly left John and I to be alone so we could reconnect and do some nipple stimulation.  John and I sat in the dark for an hour or so just being together, and things definitely picked back up again.  At midnight we decided to call it a night and start fresh in the morning.  John slept, but I couldn’t.  I laid awake all night long staring at the fetal monitor, talking out loud to Jules and asking him to please keep his heart rate baseline below 160.  It was amazing the way he responded to me.  His heart rate baseline went back to normal and stayed that way all night long.  I was so proud of him for hanging in there with me.  I felt like my baby and I already had a real connection.  We were a team.

The next morning at 6 am, I had my second wind and was ready to get the show on the road.  I woke John up and told him to get himself fed and cleaned up so we could seriously get our game faces on.  Holly was back and ready to go, so our spirits were lifting.  The resident from the night before (the same one who told me I was 5 cm) checked me and said I was 6-7 cm.  So, that at least meant that I had progressed 1-2 cm overnight while doing nothing but laying flat on my back.  I felt like this was great news, but just then a nurse came in who completely ruined our mood.  She asked me if I had considered Pitocin to get things moving.  I told her I wasn’t getting Pitocin, and she started arguing with me.  This is the nurse, by the way, a person who has absolutely no right to advise me medically one way or another.  She said I should think about getting the baby out healthy, and I told her he was healthy.  I watched his heart tones all night long and he was perfect.  Then she said “Well, I’ve seen fetuses with good heart tones be born with APGARs of zero” – meaning dead.  I got pissed.  I couldn’t believe this woman just tried to throw a “dead baby” scenario in my face, especially when nobody is in any danger. John could tell I was getting really upset again (who wouldn’t?) and he jumped in and told her she needed to stop.  She tried to apologize, but it kept coming out like “well, I don’t mean to upset you - BUT…..”  Thankfully, once we got her out of the room I didn’t see her again for the rest of the day.

Around 10-ish, my doc came back and said I’d had enough time and he wanted to do an internal pressure catheter.  I told him I was making progress and he said I hadn’t because I had been 7 cm since 5 pm the day before.  Now, that didn’t even make sense because he was the one who agreed with the resident the night before that I had never gotten to 7 cm.  Now he was saying that I had “stalled” at 7 all night.  He was getting very heated with me and kept trying to say that I needed to listen to him.  He said that my uterus – I kid you not – “just might not work” so I needed to have a c-section.  He said I’d had enough time and my “trial of labor” had failed.  He said it was a case of “failure to progress” at which point I shot back “No! It’s a failure to WAIT.”  He wanted to do an internal pressure catheter to measure the strength of my contractions, and if they were adequate it would mean that they obviously weren’t effective so I needed to be sectioned.  The other side of the coin was that my contractions were inadequate, which meant that he would give me 6 hours for them to become adequate or I needed to be sectioned.  Well, I didn’t like either of his scenarios.  I told him I just needed for people to stop stressing me out and let me labor.  He thought I was being “reckless.”

After 10 minutes or so of arguing back and forth, I told him I just wanted more time.  He left in a huff, and came back about an hour later with another doctor, telling me he had spoken to every doctor at that hospital, along with a doctor from another nearby hospital, and the hospital administration and I only had one of two “options.”  I either had to sign the c-section consent form, or sign a “Waiver of Liability” meaning that the hospital was no longer liable for whatever happened to me and the baby.  I couldn’t believe he was standing there threatening me.  I know my rights, and I told him so.  Nobody could force me to sign anything. 

John asked them to leave the room so we could discuss our options, and total panic took over the room.  I started bawling and pleading to Holly and John that I just could not have a c-section.  They both knew that, but I just needed to cry.  I was having a complete breakdown.  Here I am in labor, and more sad and scared than I have ever been in my life.  I know all my legal rights, and I knew the hospital could not force me to sign either one of those forms.  We started thinking about ripping all the IVs out of my arm and just leaving the hospital.  We started trying to call local chapters of ICAN to see if anybody could offer any advice (nobody ever called us back.)  I alternated from sobbing to shouting angrily.  I tried to think of any lawyers I knew who I could call for instant representation, or at least advice.  I couldn’t believe that there I was, having to deal with that while I’m trying to birth a baby.

An hour later, the doctor came back and told me time was up and I had to sign something.  I told him we were making phone calls and until I knew what the best thing to do was, we weren’t signing anything.  Insert more crying and panicking for another solid half hour until I just made up my mind that I wasn’t letting them bully me for one more second.  I was too upset to even try to keep talking to them so I told John he had to handle the situation, so went into the hall and talked to the doctor.  John basically told him that I wasn’t signing anything, and that’s all there was to it.  The doctor then said that I was pretty much asking for my baby to be born with “cerebral palsy,” and started scaring John into submission.  He spouted off “statistics” to John about everything that may go wrong to cause us to have an unhealthy baby.  Well, I am not a statistic.  I am a human being who deserves to be looked at as an individual, and not some number.  John came back in to report what was said, and it was clear that he was starting to buy into what the doctor was saying.  I reminded him of all we knew about these scare tactics, and that we could see the fetal heart monitor for ourselves.  There was absolutely no reason to be concerned about the baby at that point.  The only problem with the baby was that his mother was being forced to fight a legal battle during her labor.  Through my tears and anger, I convinced John that he had to get out in that hall and go to battle for his wife.  He wanted a VBAC just as badly as I did, but he was cracking under the pressure, and I just couldn’t have that.  I needed him to be strong at that moment more than I ever needed him before.

John left again – and Holly just sat with me while I sobbed.  She was a rock throughout the entire debacle, and she reminded me that I wasn’t being reckless at all.  She reminded me of how much I loved my baby and that I wasn’t going to do anything to put our lives in danger.  Then she asked me what my ideal outcome would be.  Holly is great at breaking up the clutter, forcing you to think, and getting back to the big picture.  I told her that my “ideal outcome” would be for the doctor to magically decide to leave me alone and let me labor on my own until I had the baby vaginally, no matter how long it took.  Of course I knew that was highly improbable, but it was good to refocus on my goal whether or not it looked like it might happen.

But then, John came back with surprising news.  The doctor had finally cracked, admitting to John that Baby’s heart tones weren’t worrisome, and said that he’d leave me alone to keep laboring as long as I promised to let them intervene if anything did become worrisome.   I couldn’t believe it.  I was so relieved, but so still so scared at the same time.  John had found a way to make the doctor understand how important the VBAC was to me, but at the same time I wasn’t trying to be a martyr.  He managed to convince the doctor that it wasn’t some personal attack on him, and that what I needed more than anything was for everyone to stop putting such an excruciating amount of stress on me so I could just do my thing.  Somehow, John’s words worked, and the doctor softened.

John brought the doctor in, and he tried to make up with me.  I cried my eyes out when I tried to explain to him how important it was that I didn’t leave that hospital with another uterine scar wondering what could have been if only I’d had a little more time.  I promised him that I would be open to the cesarean if it became obvious that was the only choice.  I made him understand that I had no intention of hurting myself or my baby, but there was no way I could submit to a surgery that wasn’t medically necessary at that point.  Then, he left me alone to get back to business.  He was obviously still annoyed with me, but I think John helped him perhaps feel a slight bit of empathy for me too.

By that point, it was 2 pm on Friday and contractions were down to 10 minutes apart. I sat and concentrated on breathing to bring my heart rate and the baby’s heart rate back down.  John and Holly agreed that I needed to take a nap and start fresh when I woke up.  Holly ran home to take care of a few things, and we all just tried to settle in to change the tone in the room.  I didn’t feel like I could nap, but I knew that somehow we had to put a break in the day and change the energy in the room.  At that point all I could do was sob and I knew if I didn’t change my mind frame soon, things were going to get very bad.

Just then my friend Kelly called and said she was stopping by.  It was so nice to see her, and she really helped distract us from the hell we had just been through.  She stayed for a couple hours before she had to go to work, and by the time she left we were feeling a lot better.  I thought maybe I could take a nap then, but as Kelly was leaving, my friend Kathryn (who was in town visiting) called to say she was stopping by.  I did get concerned for a second that I was getting distracted, but luckily those two friends are the most low-maintenance people I know, and they were both really helping to relax me.  Right before Kathryn got there, Holly came back with some fresh things she’d learned about stalled labor.  She said that my cervix may have swollen from sitting up, so I should try alternating laying on my sides to bring down the swelling.  She had also suggested a few times that I turn down the epidural so I could feel things, and I finally listened to her then.  I was really afraid of feeling those horrible contractions again, but I knew she was probably right. I laid down on my side and then Kathryn came in.  We all just sat and talked and slowly the mood of the room shifted.

At around 5:30 pm, and contractions are getting pretty intense.  I went from being able to carry on a conversation with Kathryn, to needing to stop and breathe through each rush.  Then it steadily became more and more intense.  Within an hour I was feeling full labor again, and contractions were long and strong.  They checked me and I was at 8 cm.  Progress!  Then the pain got worse, and worse, and then 9 cm!  Pretty soon I was screaming again and having the unbearable urge to push.  I asked for another little shot of the epidural because I was so scared of the pain.  I begged them to check me because I didn’t want to push if it wasn’t 10 cm yet.  After what seemed like an eternity, the resident checked me and said I was “complete” so I could start pushing!  Kathryn asked me if I wanted her to leave, and I told her no.  I was so glad she was with there with me.

At 8 pm, I start pushing.  At first the pushing wasn’t very fruitful because I had made the mistake of getting more epidural.  I couldn’t feel the rushes as strongly, and the urge just wasn’t there like it had been right before I got the epidural dose.  For about an hour, I pushed without a whole lot of progress.  I was still so terrified that my pushing was going to fail and they’d call for a c-section – after all that work. Then I changed positions, and right about that time the epidural started to wear off.  The more I could feel, the more I realized that I felt like Jules head was stuck on something.  As the pain became unbearable, I started screaming for them to send in the doctor to see what could be done to help get the baby down.  When my doctor finally came in, he realized that Jules was almost out, but I was pushing against an anterior lip (a little part of my cervix was swollen.)  Pretty soon, the room was filled with equipment and people; the stirrups were out, and the doctor was in position to catch the baby.  I had always hated the idea of pushing on my back, but there I was – feet in stirrups and nurses holding my legs back – pushing as hard as I could while the doctor yelled “PushPushPushPushPush!!”  All I could think of was what I knew about that being the least effective position to push in, but I was literally in no position to do much about it.  And as I laid there pushing as hard as I could, I was still terrified that the doctor was going to find some reason why I wasn’t pushing good enough, and call for a c-section.  I couldn’t concentrate on anything except how scared I was of something going wrong, and I knew that I had to get the baby out before the doctor invented another reason to section me.  I was watching Jules head come down in the mirror, and begging myself to get him out.

After 5-6 more contractions, with about 4 pushes each, Jules was born at 10:01 pm.  As I sit here writing this, I still cannot believe it’s real.  The nurses put him on my chest, and John cut the cord.  I laid there in total wonderment while the doctor stitched up my 2nd degree tear.  I finally passed the placenta 45 minutes later, and the whole 38-hour ordeal was finally, finally over.

Within a couple hours I was up showering.  The difference in recovery between a vaginal and cesarean birth is like night and day.  We left the hospital 36 hours after Jules was born (the earliest possible moment that they’d let us go) and at only 3 days postpartum, I feel almost completely back to normal.  No, I feel much better than normal.  I feel like Superwoman.

The sheer thought that I got my VBAC, after 2 years of c-section depression and a 38-hour hard fought labor, is completely overwhelming to me still.  I wish every woman in the world could experience this feeling, and I hope all other women in my situation are able to have their VBACs too.

- Gina

Kaibyn's Birth (And My Rebirth As A Mother)

Kaibyn's birth story really starts about 13 months after his big sister's birth by cesarean. I was unsure if I would ever have more children, thinking I would have to have them by cesarean and unwilling to go through that again. A chance meeting opened my eyes to the reality of VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) and I became obsessed. I started reading everything I could about VBAC and birth in general. I talked to women who had been there and finally didn't feel so alone. Slowly I began to regain the confidence I had lost in my body and in birth.

Another 13 months later, shortly after marrying my soul mate and the best father I could ask for my children, we decided we were ready for another baby. I was sure I wanted a homebirth, but Kenny was still nervous about the idea. We were surprised when I become pregnant my first cycle after stopping birth control and made an appointment to meet with two local homebirth midwives. They spent an hour with us, answering questions and giving their own backgrounds. When we left I didn't even say anything before Kenny said “Let's do it.”

My pregnancy was uneventful until around 37 weeks. At this point my blood pressure went up into the dangerous zone. I spilled a small amount of protein at that week's visit and I was more swollen than I like to admit. Laurie and I discussed dietary changes to prevent the symptoms from becoming pre-eclampsia, in which case she would have to transfer my care. I worked very hard to follow her advice and avoid the hospital, with Kenny pushing every day to make sure I ate right. The next week I didn't spill any protein, though I was still swollen and my blood pressure was still a bit higher than Laurie liked to see. By the time I went into labor my blood pressure was high, but in the safe range.

Throughout my pregnancy we had kept quiet about an actual due date. We knew I would most likely go past 40 weeks, as I had been induced with Talena at 41 weeks, 2 days. I was not surprised to see 40 weeks come and go with no sign of labor. Three days later, on Wednesday night, I was having some painful contractions while baking cookies. I had been having Braxton Hicks since about 16 weeks (which I loved because I never had them the first time) but these actually stopped me in my tracks for a minute. They only come about once every hour so I didn't give them much thought.

The next morning I woke up around 6 with fairly regular, painful contractions. I could breathe through them and it was pretty funny when, as I was trying to get up to use the bathroom, I ended up on my hands and knees over Talena. She woke up and asked what was happening. I told her Mommy was having pains in her belly that meant the baby was coming like in the book we had read. She was very excited for about two minutes, then wanted her usual apple juice. I got into the bathroom and lost some of my mucous plug, another new experience for me. Just before 7 I called Laurie and told her we could cancel our appointment that afternoon. She listened and timed a few contractions and told me to keep in touch. I couldn't believe how strong the contractions were already. I never expected labor to start so intensely, but maybe all those Braxton Hicks really did help. Around mid-morning Talena asked if she could go downstairs with my mother-in-law so we called and filled her in, then sent Talena down.

I decided I wanted to get out of the house for a while. I felt very claustrophobic right then. Kenny and I ran some errands and got a pizza (his former co-workers couldn't believe we were out getting pizza while I was in labor). All the while I was having contractions that would stop me in my tracks. We got home a few hours later and cleaned up the house a bit. By 4 o'clock I decided that I needed a little more help than just Kenny and we called Laurie over. She checked the baby's heart rate with the fetoscope, listening through a contraction, and said he sounded great. He was low enough already that all future monitoring had to been done with the Doppler. I consented to a vaginal exam to see how far dilated I was and was a bit surprised to find I was only about 2cm with my cervix still far back and the baby's head more or less in front of it.

I labored through the night but my contractions never really became regular. They would come 2-3 minutes, then 6-7 minutes, then 9-10 minutes and back to 2-3 minutes. I was in and out of the tub, using the warm water to relax and rest in between contractions. When I was out of the water I was leaning on Kenny for support, which killed his back. He would sit down between contractions (or get something to eat or drink) and I would sometimes just snap my fingers at him to get him up. He encouraged me to eat and drink as well, but I couldn't stomach much. Laurie checked me a few times overnight, but I asked her not to tell me my progress.

On Friday morning I started having back pain with the contractions and at some point had pulled a muscle in my left side, probably lying in the tub. I don't know if things got more intense or if I was just hungry, tired, dehydrated, or a combination of the three, but I was starting to have trouble getting through the contractions. I would start to lose myself and Kenny or Laurie would have to bring me back down to work with contraction instead of fighting it. The baby's godfather called a few times to check on us (and make sure Kenny was taking care of himself) and could not believe the noises that were coming out of me.

Laurie checked me again and the baby's head was still in front of my cervix. She could pull it forward a bit, but it would go right back where it was. We tried every position we could think of to get him into a more favorable position to put pressure on my cervix and dilate it but nothing was working. Laurie had been keeping in touch with her assistant, Emily, so she could come over when the birth was near, and Emily suggested one thing we hadn't tried yet. Laurie inserted four Evening Primrose tablets directly into my cervix and I rotated positions every ten minutes (side, back, side, hands and knees). Lying on my back was the most painful thing but I got through it by reminding myself how much I wanted to give this baby the calm, gentle birth he deserved.

Around 3pm I started losing control. I was tired, my whole body ached and I wanted so badly to hold my baby in my arms, but I was still only dilated 3cm. I was crushed when Laurie told me, I thought I must have been at least 6 or 7 by that point. I said that I thought maybe it was time to go to the hospital and get some help. At first Kenny tried to fight me and reminded me that I could do this (exactly what I wanted him to do), but when he saw the look in my eyes he knew I was right. Laurie said our options at that point were either the hospital or a good strong drink. I had barely eaten in two days, I hadn't had much to drink, and we were all pretty tired. I knew that if all this kept up I would eventually become physically exhausted and that would mean a second cesarean. Surgery was not an option.

Laurie called the hospital and spoke with the lead midwife on duty (we later found out she had been Laurie's nurse when she delivered her first son 18 years ago). She explained the situation and what we hoped for in transferring. The midwife said she had to consult with the OB staff and would call back. She called back a little later and told us to come right in. Apparently the OB's wanted to bring me in under their care and she said absolutely not, there was no reason I needed a doctor. I called my mom in tears to tell her what was going on while Kenny went to tell his mother. I was so upset she couldn't understand me. Once she knew what was going on she said told me not to be upset, that I was doing a great job and making the right decision. Just hearing her say that, and knowing she would meet us at the hospital, really helped then. We got some things together while Laurie cleaned up some of her supplies and we left.

The ride to the hospital was short and terrible. Every pothole was torture. We pulled up to the hospital and a staffer put me in a wheelchair and brought me up to L&D while Kenny parked the car. My mom was already there and I don't think I've ever been so happy to see her. The staff was expecting us and we got the last open room. They put wireless monitors on me so I had complete freedom of movement which was great. My nurse asked if I had been using a birth ball at home and gave me one. I had thought about buying one but never did and I wish I had because it was great. About this time Laurie was out copying my pre-natal records for the hospital and Emily arrived. She introduced herself and immediately started massaging my lower back. It was exactly what I needed.

The nurse gave me the hospital's blanket consent form to sign and even in my present state I managed to read it and change the things I needed to (no Pitocin, no Hep. B, vitamin K or eye stuff for the baby). Then the anesthesiologist came in to talk about pain relief options (standard for all laboring women whether they plan on it or not). After some discussion I decided to get a shot of Nubain right away. It took the edge off enough to let me relax and rest a bit,

As soon as a room with a tub opened up, I was moved without even being asked if I wanted it. I guess they figured since I had been in the water so much at home I might as well continue. Unfortunately, I filled the tub too hot and overheated pretty quickly. I think it had to do with not having a window like at home. Soon the Nubain had worn off and I was in a lot of pain again. I labored a while longer, doing the same moaning and hanging onto Kenny I had been at home. By now my mom and Emily had left and it was getting late. I decided to get an epidural because I still wasn't progressing. I knew the epidural would probably mean Pitocin, but at that point I knew it was the right thing to do.

Sometime before midnight the anesthesiologist came and gave me the epidural. I asked for a very small amount and was very happy when I never lost movement in my legs. With the epidural came an IV, which meant being in bed, but I didn't mind at this point because I just wanted some rest. I actually managed to sleep a bit, as did Kenny and Laurie.

A few hours later the hospital midwife came in and said my contractions had really slowed down and she recommended Pitocin. Kenny immediately got defensive, but I stayed calm knowing she was right. She asked why we were so against it and I said that as a VBAC we were worried about the increased risk of uterine rupture. Kenny and I shared a look and silently agreed that the Pitocin was a necessary evil at this point. I also knew that my uterus, scar and all, must be pretty damn strong to have held up through this much labor already. I revised the consent form from earlier to allow a Pitocin drip at 3:30am.

By this point I had finally dilated past 3cm and once the Pitocin was started it was just a few short hours before I was complete. When the nursing shift changed they joked that they assigned me the crunchiest nurse on staff. My epidural was wearing off a bit which was great because I was starting to feel an urge to push. I could feel the baby moving down and immense pressure. Someone asked if I wanted to try the squat bar and set it up. The midwife suggested breaking my water because there was a bulging sack in front of the baby's head. It seemed logical to me that I would want his head, rather than a small bit of amniotic fluid, presenting first. I don't remember a whole lot about the pushing phase, but it did not seem like the hour and 15 minutes it was. Time seemed to stop then. I remember making a lot of noise and sinking deep into myself. Three times I distinctly thought that a repeat cesarean would have been so much easier, but I never said it aloud. I knew that as hard as this was, it was exactly what I wanted, what I had worked so hard to get to.

It seemed like forever before I finally felt the baby crowning. I didn't experience the ring of fire many women talk about, but I did feel myself tear. I reached down and felt his head as he was crowning and it was the most amazing thing ever, my heart actually skipped a beat. Laurie told Kenny to look at his baby. He took a quick peek and came back to my side. She told me later that with each contraction the baby's heart rate naturally dropped, but every time I touched his head it sped up again. When I felt myself tearing I wanted to stop pushing so badly to help prevent it, but my body wouldn't let me. As his head came out I dropped to my knees. Laurie and the hospital midwife told me I had to get up, there wasn't enough room for him to come out. Somehow I managed to throw myself back onto the bed, I imagine it probably looked pretty comical. Once on my back I kept pushing. There was a sudden sense of panic as Kenny and a nurse were told to hold my legs back. I realized his shoulders were stuck and just kept pushing. Had I been able to change positions I would have, but I had almost no strength left an my whole body ached. I saw more than felt the midwife grab and pull a bit, then I felt him leave my body with what felt like gallons of fluid. I think I laughed. I was a bit surprised by the amount of liquid since my water had been broken, but considering how little there was before this point it made sense.

Kaibyn William was born at 8:34am on Saturday, July 26, 2008. There was a bit of meconium in the fluid so the cord was cut immediately and he was taken over to be looked at. Kenny went with him. When someone announced his weight (8lbs, 9oz) I exclaimed “That's it?” I had been expecting a nine pounder. I could hear the pediatrician suctioning him (which I didn't like much) and saw Kenny happily cut the cord. The hospital midwife gave the cord a few gentle tugs (which I asked her not to) and told me we needed the placenta out because I was bleeding a bit more than she would have liked to see. I gave a push and it slid out easily. I asked to see it and it was beautiful.

A nurse brought Kaibyn over to me, all wrapped up. It wasn't how I wanted to meet him, but it was still perfect. He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I fell in love instantly. The pediatrician came over and told us they wanted to observe him in the NICU because he wasn't breathing quite right and they wanted to give him antibiotics because I hadn't been tested for GBS and my white blood cell count was a little high. I told him that my daughter had been sick the week before but to go ahead. Kenny stayed with Kaibyn while Laurie helped the midwife stitch the tear. They upped my epidural and gave me a local while they did it. The midwife had a hard time and called in an OB because she couldn't locate the exact sight of the bleeding to stitch it.

As soon as I could get up (a couple hours later) I was in the NICU with Kaibyn. He had some air around his heart and lungs that hadn't been pushed out completely during birth, but nothing serious. He latched on right away to nurse and hasn't stopped since. His nurse was quite surprised. In a matter of hours he was out of the NICU and in my room with me. The only times he left my side was to get his antibiotics.

Kaibyn's birth was the most amazing, healing experience of my life. I am so much more at peace with my first, traumatic birth and was able to truly celebrate my daughter's third birthday three weeks later for the first time. Even though I didn't have my homebirth this time, I birthed my baby on my terms, and nothing and no one can take that away from me.

- Shannon

The Birth of Hannah Love

Stats:
Hannah Love born April 24th (her due date!) at 10:29 PM
8 lbs. 14 oz
20 3/4" long

This story starts long before Hannah was conceived.  It starts in the operating room where my son, Mason, was born by cesarean section.

I was induced simply because my OB/GYN said I was "overdue"... I was just 40w 6d.  Mason was posterior, and I was stuck in bed with an epidural and the million and one wires connecting my body to various machines--the typical hospital birth scenario.  My doctor declared CPD and FTP after stalling at 4 cm for 4 hours.

The cesarean was cold and impersonal. It was a traumatic experience.  The doctors were busy gossiping, I was shaking uncontrollably, I felt ignored and belittled. The doctors never said "congratulations", in fact I didn't even know they had left the OR until I was suddenly being wheeled out of the room to be taken to recovery. Once there, I cried for my son... everyone got to see him but me, I was an invalid in bed. I didn't get to see Mason until 3 hours after he was born, because I was passed out in recovery.

When I finally saw him, I didn't feel that bond everyone told me about. I didn't even know if he was mine or not--I never saw him leave my body. The cesarean ruined our first moments together. I didn't think, "that was all worth it", I wasn't grateful for the cesarean. Already I knew I could have had him vaginally. I knew my cesarean was unnecessary.

Fast forward 19 months later--after one stressful and emotionally draining year of trying to conceive, we found out we were pregnant with our second child. We were due April 24th 2009, and over the moon with excitement.  I immediately looked into my birthing options--A birth center or a homebirth with a midwife.

I soon found out that the birth center couldn't take VBAC's due to "liability issues".  They could only take me at the hospital across the street, something I knew I didn't want. I was afraid that I would somehow be bullied into another cesarean section. The other option was
a homebirth, which sounded lovely, but I wasn't sold on it right away.  It wasn't until I was nearing the end of my 1st trimester that I suddenly turned to my husband Jason and said, "I want a homebirth". We were sitting on the sofa watching TV.  It just came to me out of the
blue... it felt right. "Okay", he said.

I envisioned a beautiful homebirth of a baby girl. I knew she was a girl from the start.  I even had dreams about her well before the ultrasound. I called the midwife I had met a while back when still TTC,  Joni, and told her we were finally pregnant, and indeed going with a homebirth.

The rest is history.

----

On Thursday, April 23rd, Joni came over for my 40 week appointment, and I told her the whole time she was there I was having lots of Braxton Hicks. They weren't painful at all--just tightening. She said, "Maybe that means I will be seeing you later!"  I told her, "Yeah right!" I had been having Braxton Hicks since 20 weeks, so this was nothing new, plus I was already convinced I was going to go past my due date anyway.

The Braxton Hicks continued throughout the night, and a few of them woke me up from my sleep. Friday at around 5:30 in the morning I noticed they were much stronger. They weren't very painful, but they just felt different. They had lots of pressure and the pain radiated
from front to back. I was getting hopeful, but remember thinking, "Yeah right, what are the odds I will go into labor on my due date.."

Then the diarrhea started--I swear I must have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. At that point I had a feeling something was up. I got up and walked around, the contractions didn't go away. I had a feeling this really was it, but at the same time I was in denial that my body was actually going into labor on it's own. I didn't want to get Jason's hopes up, so I didn't tell him. He asked me what was wrong but I told him it was nothing.

We got Mason up and had our typical morning routine. The contractions were coming anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes apart, but I could still walk and talk through them. I finally told Jason I was having some contractions, and I thought something was going on, but not sure. I told him maybe he should stay home, since I thought something was up.  He decided to go to work, but told me to call if anything was happening.  Looking back, I think he was in denial, as was I.

About an hour after Jason left, the contractions were suddenly getting more painful and more regular.  They were about every 10 minutes apart, with some weaker ones in between. There were a few I could not walk through, and had to lean over. I started to panic a little--I always
thought I would be one of those who wanted to be alone during labor, but I was just the opposite. I was afraid, I wanted someone there.

I called Jason, but he didn't pick up his cell phone (I found out later he was blasting music and rocking out on the way to work) I called my sister Angel (who was going to be in charge of watching Mason), then I called Joni and told her what was going on.  As I did, I felt silly.  I was still in denial that this was really it. I told her I was having regular contractions and she told me she would give me a call back later to see how things were going, or I could call her if
it got really intense.

I was feeling very fidgety. I put on Blue's Clue's for Mason, and went around the house doing some last minute cleaning and prepping for the birth. I thought about making the cupcakes that I had planned on making in early labor--for Hannah's birthday--but I just could not
focus so I decided not to even try. I was on edge and everything was getting on my nerves.

I called Jason back, but this time I called his work number, he picked up and I told him I wanted him to come home, that I was scared and I felt this was really it. Looking back, I don't know why I felt scared--I just didn't want to be alone. I also wanted Joni there but knew it was way too early. I felt I needed to have people that I loved around me.

While I was waiting for Jason to come home, I made sure Mason was occupied and I took a shower and got dressed, all the while having regular, strong contractions.  What a sight it must have been to see a heavily pregnant woman trying to maneuver around her huge 40 week belly to shave her legs and deal with contractions at the same time.

About an hour later, Jason was home.  All three of us went for a walk down to the lake.  I would have to stop every now and then and breathe through a contraction. The walk was surreal--I was in labor!  

The dock was peaceful, and it was a beautiful sunny day. We sat on the picnic table for a while goofing around and taking pictures.

On the walk back home a neighbor stopped us to chat. Of course he asked me the question I didn't want to hear, "You're still pregnant?"

I seriously wanted to beat him. I was already on edge, and in the midst of a contraction, and that was the last thing that I wanted to hear.  Jason, sensing my annoyance, said, "Well, we're working on it now, actually". "Oh", he said, "Well good luck". I just stood there breathing through contractions while Jason chatted with him for a few more minutes.

When we got home, we went out to the backyard and pushed Mason in his swing. We didn't have any patio furniture yet so I made Jason go inside and get my birth ball.  It really helped with the pressure, but when a contraction hit I just wanted to hang onto something, and there
was nothing to brace myself, so it just ended up annoying me.

We went back inside. I was hungry but nothing sounded good. Jason called Chili's and ordered us some food, then went to pick up.  I stayed home with Mason, but needed to focus on contractions, so I let him on the computer so he could watch YouTube videos of PM Dawn.

I kneeled on the floor leaning over the end of the bed, working through some intensifying contractions. In between contractions I called my dad who was visiting my mom at the convalescent home. I told him I was in labor.  He sounded excited, but reserved--I think he was always a little worried about the homebirth, but never really said anything about it.

I don't remember when, but Joni called to check up on me and asked me how it was going.  I told her the contractions were definitely stronger, and closer together--about 7-10 minutes apart--but I could still talk through them.  She asked me about bloody show, I told her I was having lots of discharge, but no bloody show. I then was curious and asked her why, I don't remember her exact words, but she told me something along the lines of bloody show being a good sign of dilation.  I asked her if since I wasn't having bloody show, would that mean I wasn't dilating? She told me no. Still, though I know she didn't mean to plant a seed of doubt in me, from then until my water would break later in the day, it was in the back of my mind.  I was thinking that maybe I just wasn't dilating.

Jason came home with food--a yummy southwestern style chicken salad for me, and a big fat greasy burger for him. I sat on the birth ball and was devouring it between contractions.

Around this time contractions were about 5-6 minutes apart, and I was starting to not be able to talk through them.  Sitting up was just not working, the birth ball was starting to get uncomfortable, I just couldn't find a good position.  I decided to lay on the couch with a pillow between my legs. Ouch. The contractions seemed even more intense that way and I felt out of control when they hit.  Joni called right then and asked me how I was doing.  I told her I still didn't have bloody show, but I couldn't talk through some of the contractions.  I had one while I was talking to her, but it was a milder one.  She told me to call her back when they were so intense, all I could do was focus on getting through them, or if I had a monster contraction that gets my attention.

Mason was starting to get on my nerves a little at this point.  He knew something was up.  I tried to explain to him that mommy was having boo-boos in her belly because the baby in the belly was coming, and Joni (Mason loves her) was coming over to help.  He was very clingy and needy--he always seemed to want me to pick him up right in the midst of a contraction.

I was in the sun room, and when one particular contraction hit, I had to fall to my hands and knees to work through it. Mason jumped on my back and wanted to wrestle. I panted to Jason, "Get (pant, pant) him, (pant, pant) off me".  I feel so bad about it now, but I really needed to focus through the contractions. After the contraction subsided, I stood back up like nothing ever happened. Mason probably thought I was crazy.

Angel texted me around this time and told me she was leaving work and asked if we needed any food.  I told her we already ate.  I was so glad she was on her way, not only for support, but also to keep Mason occupied.

By the time 4:30 pm rolled around, the contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart.  Some milder ones were even coming every 3 minutes.  I just stood in the bathroom, standing at the sink and leaning onto it, while swaying my hips with each contraction.  It felt good to be up and mobile in labor--doing whatever I wanted to do.  I looked in the mirror from time to time, not believing that was me in there, feeling this.  My body had gone into labor on it's own--I was not broken.  I looked around the bathroom, the afternoon sun shining in through the window... it was beautiful and so peaceful.  I wanted to remember that moment forever.

While I was in the bathroom, the first really painful, oh-my-god contraction hit.  I had to moan through it. It really caught me by surprise and freaked me out.  I knew that must have been the monster contraction that Joni was talking about.  I did not feel in control at all during it and I was starting to become fearful again. I wanted Joni there.  I told Jason to call her now and tell her to please come over--contractions 4 minutes apart and very, very intense.

Angel arrived around 5 pm, and came in the bedroom to see me on my knees in front of the bed.  I was moaning through a contraction, and she looked a little freaked out.  

The contractions were unbelievable by now. It took everything I had to make it through them. Angel went to occupy Mason, who was becoming increasingly distressed over my condition. He would cry every now and then if he heard me.  Between contractions I would ask, "How is Mason? Is he okay?".  Looking back having Mason there was a bit distracting at times. When I heard him in the background, I would start to worry about him and loose my focus.

Joni arrived shortly after 6pm. When she walked into the bedroom, I was curled up on the bed in a fetal position moaning through a contraction.  She was ready to check my progress, and I was eager to know how far along I was.  

Just when she was ready to check me, I had yet another really intense contraction and my water broke in a huge gush all over the bed.  "My water broke", I said, as if it wasn't
obvious.  I remember whimpering to Joni ,"Oh no--doesn't that mean they are going to get even stronger?"  I was petrified at how much more painful the contraction were going to get.

Joni checked me and I was 5 cm! I didn't get past 4 cm with Mason.  I felt better knowing I was indeed making progress, but at the same time I knew I was only halfway there, and I had just, by definition, entered active labor.

Labor was soon very, very painful and intense, and from this point on, everything is really fuzzy.  I don't remember what time it was, who said what, or even what I was doing.  I had my eyes closed most of the time, so I didn't even see much of anything.  All I remember was PAIN and not wanting to be alone.

When I was in labor with Mason, Jason annoyed me and I didn't want him near me.  This time, I needed him. I wouldn't let him leave my side.  During those very intense, scary contractions, he was my anchor in a stormy sea.  Every time I could feel a contraction coming on, I would say, "Grab my hand!" and I would squeeze it hard.  I remember biting him at one point (hehe), and he told me,"Don't bite, that hurts."  We stood up for a while, swaying back and forth. I would lean into him when a contraction hit, and just hang from him. During one such contraction,  I suddenly felt like pushing.  I couldn't help it.  It really does feel like everyone says it does--like taking a really big shit. "I'm pushing!" I yelled. "That's okay", Joni said.

At some point, the assistant midwife, Bea, arrived, and they set up the birth supplies.  Joni put the birth ball on the bed, and I leaned into that for a while. I started having some more contractions that felt very "pushy".  I have always heard how the urge to push is unbelievable, and they were right. There is no fighting that urge. It's like a freight train moving through your body.  I thought pushing felt better though, I was actually doing something with the pain.

At one point Jason asked me what I wanted to eat. Nothing sounded very appetizing, but I did notice I was feeling pretty weak and I needed something.  I told him peanut butter toast and jelly toast.  He came back with them made just the way I like it--one with peanut butter and
butter, and the other with jelly and butter, also a Gatorade juice box.  He would periodically feed me bites of the toast and hold the Gatorade in front of my face to I could sip it every now and then.

Joni checked me at one point, and said I was 7 cm.  I couldn't believe it! Seven? Really?  She told me she was going to try and stretch my cervix a little bit with the next contraction, because I was starting to push with some contractions.  She didn't want my cervix to swell.

She then suggested I move to the toilet and try to urinate.  I couldn't pee, but I did end up sitting there for a while.  Jason sat to my left sitting on the sink, holding my hand.  Joni was sitting on the floor at my feet, and Bea was filming a little just outside the bathroom.  When
a contraction would hit, I would take my right hand, brace the side of the toilet and lift myself up.  I guess I did this because sitting completely on the toilet seat was too uncomfortable.

Someone, I think Joni, put a cold wash cloth around my neck, and that really helped.  I was getting really hot and sweaty working so hard.  I would push with almost every contraction now.  I could feel her head going lower and lower. I kept saying, "I can't do this anymore.   I
don't want to do this anymore...".  Joni would just reply, "But you are doing it. Your body is doing exactly what it needs to... you went into labor on your own--it's awesome! Everything you are feeling is your own body doing what it's supposed to..."  Just what I needed to hear.  I
am so glad that I had her there, she's not only an amazing midwife, but a wonderful person.

At that point I know 100% for a fact I would have taken the epidural if someone was able to get it to me.  If I were in the hospital, I know I would have gotten it.  I am not going to lie, at that point I was thinking, "Maybe the c-section would have been easier..."  The pain was
unreal.  I was trying to stay on top of the contractions, but I just couldn't.  I was moaning and screaming, my throat was getting sore (I actually ended up losing my voice for a few days because of all the noise I was making).  I'm glad I was home surrounded by people who
supported me and believed in me 100%.

At some point Joni suggested I get off the toilet and try another position on the bed.  The thought of moving was terrifying.  As soon as the last contraction ended, I quickly made a dash for the bed, hoping one wouldn't surprise me along the way.  She had me lay down so she
could check me again. I was 8 cm--I was elated to hear this, but at the same time I was in so much pain it wasn't good enough. I was actually a little pissed off, thinking how long is this going to take? Joni stretched my cervix with the next  contraction.

The next thing I knew I was pushing with every contraction, laying on my left side with my right knee being held up by Jason.  No one ever said, "10 cm-time to push!"  They let me do what my body was telling me to do.  Jason, Joni and Bea were awesome, cheering me on and giving me encouragement when I would say "I cannot do this!" (which I had to have said at least 100 times, I am sure)  Joni encouraged me to touch her head--wow, what a feeling that was.  "Looks like she has dark hair!" she said.  I was expecting a blondie like Mason.  That definitely gave me the motivation to push even harder.

At one point, I distinctly remember Hannah pushing off of the top of my uterus as a contraction hit--trying to wriggle herself out.  It was amazing that my baby girl was working with me. We were a team... in it together. 

Pushing was somewhat manageable until she was crowning.  Wow--that was the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I was screaming at one point.  I have no idea how Mason, who was sleeping down the hall on the couch in the living room, did not wake up.

Joni later told me I pushed for about 2 hours. Honestly, I do not remember it being that long. Even with all the pain I was feeling, it seemed half that amount of time.  I remember asking, "is her head out?" almost after every contraction, because I just wanted the pain to end.  Joni and Bea would tell me I was making beautiful progress, and Jason would squeeze my hand saying,"She's right there, babe." I just kept pushing and screaming until I heard, "Her head is out!"

After a few more pushes, her shoulders wouldn't budge, and this is where it gets really fuzzy and hectic.

All I remember is one minute, Bea was filming at the foot of the bed, and the next minute she was at Joni's side. I was laying on my back at that point, and they told me to get on my hands and knees.  As I flipped over, I looked at their faces and saw panic.  That scared the crap out of me. I just remember asking, "Is she stuck!?"

It felt as if they were ripping me apart. They yanked her up and down as I screamed.  The pain from the contractions and the force of Joni and Bea trying to free Hannah caused me to throw up. Then they had me flip onto my back again and pull my knees up to my chest.  They kept
saying, "Push Michele!! PUSH!!"  I pushed with all the strength I had left.  I knew I needed to get her out. At that point the pain didn't matter, I didn't care if they did rip me apart--I just wanted her out and alive.

Finally, she came out. Joni later told me it was 4 minutes that she was stuck.  Looking back, it honestly didn't feel like it was that long--those 4 minutes were such a blur to me.  It was like an outer body experience.

When she was out, she was limp, and not breathing, but her heart was beating at 120 bpm. They started resuscitation, meanwhile Jason and I were in shock.  They had Angel call 911.

I couldn't believe it was happening. I got really freaked out when Bea started praying (I was later told that shoulder dystocia is her worst fear).  I was crying and saying over and over, "Oh no... Hannah, please don't die... this isn't happening".  I glanced over at Jason, he must
have been pacing because he was across the room.  He had his hands to his face, looking pale.

After about one minute (but felt an eternity) she finally started breathing--I heard her crying and relief swept over me.  I was later told her Apgars were 3 and 7.

They handed her to me. She was still warm and wet from my womb. I will never forget that feeling.  I was amazed at the amount of dark hair she had--Mason was born blond and almost bald!  She was so beautiful!  I couldn't believe what I had just done--or should I say "we" because I felt Hannah and I worked as a team during the birth. We did it!

I still lay on my back on the bed, Hannah was now being assessed further by Joni and Bea.  I don't remember what they were doing exactly, since everything at this point is pretty fuzzy--but I am sure it was something to do with her right arm, which was pretty limp.

The next thing I remember is Joni at my feet telling me to push.  The placenta came out quickly and there was no hemorrhaging--which is sometimes seen with a shoulder dystocia.

The medics arrived and Joni and Bea filled them in on what happened. Her color was fine everywhere excpet for her right arm, which was still blue. Otherwise, she was okay, but we decided to go to the hospital just as a precaution.  Joni and Bea cleaned me off and helped me get dressed. I went with Hannah in the ambulance, and Jason followed with
Joni.  Angel stayed home with Mason (who was still asleep, thank god).

They let me hold her in the ambulance, and had me hold an oxygen mask on her face.  Once there, I was wheeled into the emergency room. Everyone kept saying "congratulations" as I was wheeled by with Hannah. You know that scene from Robocop, the one in which he has just been made into Robocop and the scene is shot from his perspective, with different people coming up to his face and talking to him?  Well, that is what it was like for me, it seemed surreal. I felt like I was doped up.  Different people were coming up to me asking questions.  I
couldn't believe I was at the hospital--the very place I wanted to avoid.

We were taken to L&D. I was relieved when Jason and Joni walked into the room.  Of course, the nurses and doctors were asking Joni lots of questions, as if she were on trial.  They asked me about my pre-natal care, etc.  I kept telling them I went to the birth center until 32
weeks, then I went with Joni for a homebirth--plain and simple.

I had a resident and an intern come over and stare at my vagina to assess the damage.  I had a 2nd degree vaginal tear. They asked me what pain relief I wanted while they stitched me--and epidural or local anesthesia.  At first I said I wanted the epidural.  I just didn't want to feel anymore pain (at this point I was still in shock at how painful the birth was) and was afraid the local wouldn't numb me enough.

Joni talked some sense into me--if I got the epidural I would need a catheter (though I ended up with one anyway since I was so swollen  I couldn't urinate) and an IV.  I opted for the local anesthesia.

I was getting annoyed--the resident was asking me questions and all I wanted to do was hold Hannah and feed her her first meal.  She was across the room having some blood drawn and was being checked over, the whole time crying and rooting for my breast.  Joni held my hand and comforted me when I started to cry about how the birth turned out, and how I just wanted to feed her. I seriously wanted to jump off the bed and punch my way through the crowd of nurses and doctors to get to her.

After what seemed like an eternity, they said she was fine, but her right arm seemed to have some possible nerve damage from being stuck, but would need to see over time what the prognosis was. I FINALLY got to breastfeed her--she latched on like a champ!  It was wonderful.  I sighed a huge sigh of relief.  My baby, safe and sound.

Joni ended up leaving the hospital at around 2 AM--she stayed with us for a long time, giving us support and showing her concern.  She took Jason home and then Jason drove back to the hospital in our car.  He ended up staying the night there with me and Hannah and Angel stayed home with Mason.

We were supposed to go home the next morning, but there was a delay in the bloodwork so I stayed an extra day with her.  That was hell.  I felt like I was in a prison.  Jason had to stay home with Mason, so I was alone and it was depressing and boring.  Mason met his little sister
for the first time at the hospital--I had always though it would have been at home.

Surprisingly, there was only one "homebirth is risky" comment while I was there.  It was from the specialist  that came to assess Hannah's arm on the last day there.  She told me that I should be thankful I didn't rupture, then looked at me wide-eyed, like she was trying to
scare me, "Do you know we have had ruptures happen here at the hospital?"  I just looked at her and said, "Look, I did my research, I know all about it."  She then proceeded to say that  I risked my life, and Hannah's life. It annoyed me how she talked to me like I was a silly little girl.

By the time we left the hospital, her arm had already improved greatly.  It is now pretty normal and I don't think she will need physical therapy, though we have an appointment with a physical therapist just to be sure.  (*update*  it's been 6 months since her birth, and her shoulder is totally healed, and has been for some time now)

Five days after the birth, I had my second postpartum visit with Joni.  I cried to her and told her that though I pushed my baby out--I still was bothered by how it ended, the shoulder dystocia, the hospital, etc.  I asked her if she would consider it a failed homebirth, to which
she replied,"You had your baby at home."

Talking to her made me feel at peace with it.

Though the ending wasn't ideal, and very scary, it was an amazing experience overall.  I pushed my baby out of my body, without pitocin, without pain medication, and disproved my former OB's "CPD" diagnosis (Hannah was 7 oz. bigger than Mason, and almost half and inch longer)--and for that I am very proud.

The shoulder dystocia could have happened at the hospital too--it's just unpredictable.  I accept that. It occurs in about 1% of births--so I guess we won the lottery with that one.  Joni told me she's been doing homebirths for 10 years, and this was only her 3rd shoulder
dystocia.  We were unlucky but we pulled through and we are okay. My midwives, Joni and Bea, were incredible and handled it beautifully.  I couldn't thank them enough! Such awesome women!

I can actually say now, that I birthed my baby. I just couldn't say that about Mason, it fit the term birth by definition only.  I still can't believe I did it.  I really did it.  I pushed my beautiful little girl out of my body.  She is finally here.  I birthed Hannah on the same bed in which she was conceived, and into loving arms, at home. 

-Michele De Mont

A Birth/Love Story

- Background -

A brief background - in 2004, I was induced at 40+10 with my first son. The induction was painful, humiliating and terrifying. My epidural did not work entirely leaving me a window of pain next to my crotch throughout. I had a foetal monitor that wasn't giving clear readings, so the hospital staff attempted and failed to attach a monitor to my baby's head. Despite having no way to be sure, they told me my baby was in distress and took me to surgery where the Dr gave me an inverted T cut to remove my son. I required a T cut rather than the lower transverse because my baby had progressed so far toward birth, that they needed to do a breech extraction. My baby could have been born, was heading toward being born - but the Drs couldn't wait and I got a T scar and a warning never to have more than one more baby and never ever labour as a result of their impatience. Oh I was also told my pelvis was too small to birth my son.

So with my second son I decided to go through the private system hoping I would have more choices or some relationship with my care provider, it turned out not to be the case. I had an "elective" caesarean at 39 weeks. I did broach the idea of a vaginal birth with my OBGYN but it was ruled out entirely because of the type of scar I had and at that point I didn't pursue it further.

With my third pregnancy I started out assuming I would have surgery again, but I wanted more so I read about 'active caesareans' and attempted to arrange one with the hospital with no luck. I tried to negotiate being "allowed" to go into labour before I came in for surgery, to not have my baby taken away whilst I lay in recovery, to do a lotus birth... a senior staff member of the women's health clinic told me to sit down and proceeded to yell at me and call me insane. It was revolting. I was told if I did wait till I went into labour the hospital would 'wash their hands of me', so any chance of a vaginal birth in hospital was clearly impossible.

I did more reading, did more research and then set out trying to find an independent midwife for a homebirth. I was turned down and cautioned against a homebirth by a few midwives. I had one consider taking me but her fear of my situation would have made it a problem for me and my hopes for a birth. So I gave up until I was pushed to contact one more and thank goodness I did. She was instantly lovely, warm, had a great laugh (very important) and didn't treat me for a moment like a time bomb, rather she was honest and direct at all times and respected me and my choices. We could not have found a more perfect midwife for our family or for the hopes we held for the birth of our baby.

- Birth Story -

I had a few dramas with this pregnancy but in the end I got exactly what I wanted - a totally boring uneventful birth.

At 45+ weeks pregnant*, Thursday the 12th Feb 2009 - I was having small contractions all day which ramped up round 7pm. I had asked D to buy a stop watch because I was frustrated trying to figure out if there was a pattern to it all, so we timed contractions. From 7 to about 2:30am. They ranged from 30 seconds, 45 seconds, 1min30, 20 seconds. It seemed I would have one big one, and an 'echo' one but there wasn't a pattern to them or the length at all and D & I both said a few times "I wonder what real established labour is going to be like" as we assumed things would settle into a pattern.

In between each contraction baby was moving and kicking hard as was his usual habit. Round 2am he stopped moving in between contractions and we waited to see if he would start again but there was nothing, so D decided to call our MW just to let her know that was what was happening. She decided to come over. As she walked in, I had a long contraction but then only small ones after it and they were further and further apart which made me think it was all just pre-labour and that I'd been making a lot of noise and fuss!

The MW listened to the baby's heart rate through a few contractions and it was low. She suggested we go for a walk and come back and see where we were at. So we went for a walk, made it down the street but I had to wait there swaying and making quiet (totally insane) noises. I decided I couldn't be outside any more because I was tired and it was starting to rain, so we walked back up and I had a contraction in front of every house we passed . The closer we got to home the more they hurt and the more terrified I became, thinking - "Crap, if this is early labour I'm going to be a wreck in second stage and broken for transition!!"
I was finding it harder and harder to be quiet...so I didn't.

As we got to next door's place, something overwhelming happened to my body and I was SURE something was going "wrong" My legs started to buckle and I felt such an incredible painful/intense sensation I told Don something terrible was happening and I had to get home right now.
But that I couldn't walk and refused to move so he had to do something else about it (levitation? Wheelbarrow?).
I started thinking about how I couldn't even get into an ambulance if one arrived and that no drug I could think of would work fast enough to stop this wildly intense sensation. I specifically remember thinking "If I get in the ambulance they'll have to give me an epidural because I will not have a general, and I can't stand still so they'll for sure botch the epidural and I'll end up paralysed!!!"

My legs kept buckling and I started pushing uncontrollably as if I was going to the bathroom and since I assumed my cervix couldn't possibly be dilated because I wasn't "really" in labour I tried to stop pushing and couldn't. At the top of our drive I was really stuck, our driveway is really steep pebble creek stuff! It was hard to walk down in the rain, in labour, in wet birkenstock clogs (MW said for sure I wouldn't have had the baby on the drive which is a relief )

We managed to make it down and our MW met us at the door (I thought we'd been gone 10 minutes, we'd been gone over an hour). I saw her and told her something 'terrible' was happening and then the pushing/grunting thing happened again and she said "you are going to have a baby" which I didn't believe! Whilst we were out, with her magical MW intuition powers, she had known I'd need it and filled our pool with beautifully warm water, so I got in but didn't undress entirely because I couldn't be bothered. My body pushed and I tried to believe I was having a baby, that this was it! I chanted a variety of really crazy stuff really loud, clenched hands, wailed and focused on having a cup of tea in bed when it was over. Our son N came out but I really really didn't want him there at that point and sent him back to bed.

Then I felt what HAD to be the ring of fire and I tried to avoid it - couldn't, felt between my legs and found 'something' (that turned out to be the back of my baby's head!) my body kept pushing until there was a huge rush of a body gliding out from between my legs, I thought 'head-shoulders-legs!' and then a RUSH of fluid and a pulling sensation, it was so intense and I was still so shocked I didn't turn to see the baby who really shot out and slid along the floor of the pool. I was frozen feeling this sensation and I once again told my MW "something was happening" and then added "D pick up the baby!!"

D had no idea and didn't realise our baby had even been born! Partly because of my huge skirt but also, we were both expecting things to take longer however our MW said it was about 25 mins either in the pool or from when we got home. .
So D picked him up and started crying saying he was beautiful. I finally turned around and there he was, beautiful quiet, lovely and incredible.
I thought his head would come, and then a pause then the rest of him - but he came out all at once! There are two photos of me in labour but the flash was too much for me at the time so I asked MW to stop, I regret that now - but couldn't have seen under my skirt anyway!

So he was born at 5:19am Friday the 13th Of Feb 2009, on the end of a long cord and without much noise, he didn't even feed for the first 12 hours. When he was passed to me he was incredibly slippery but so clean - no vernix except in his chubby chubby thighs and a patch of blood on his beautiful head with it's pudding face. I was so amazed by him - still am

The rest goes just how you'd expect. I have no tears, a tiny graze which seems to be gone now, and the most affected area is my butt which is sore, but otherwise - no problems! We intended to lotus birth, but I was having trouble birthing the placenta and we decided to cut his cord about 4 hours later, and I managed to push the placenta out 7 hours after he was born. Once again I was amazed at the sensation of using my body to push something so large out. - yes, I got emotional about pushing out a placenta, I'm a sook.

I just wanted to add this little bit in, because it was something I always wondered about. Having had two c-sections and being told I could never expect to have a vaginal birth, I internalised the idea that I would never use my body in this way and that conditioning is hard to overcome. Also...well I don't know how else to put it, but a rather uncooperative vagina over the years, I was sure I would tear top to bottom. I tend to tear and bleed a little during normal vaginal sex, but I had an 11 pound 12 baby and no tears

He had a nice long cord with a knot in it.
His head is 40cm, body 62 cm long, weighing 11 pound 12 ounces. He is exceptionally chubby and beautiful and I was sure he was tiny until told otherwise . I was expecting an 8ish pound baby. His placenta wasn't huge, it was well used but otherwise great.

This has been one of the absolute best things to ever happen to me. Despite all the regret I carry from my first births, and always suspecting what I missed out on, I could never have know how fantastic it could be till it happened and I just feel so so grateful that it did.
I specifically feel grateful because this only happened as a confluence of events and circumstance.
I have friends/SIL who believed in birth (and one who went on to birth beautifully at home a few months before me) as well as share their knowledge and experience and most importantly - their support. My wonderful loving partner who never stopped supporting me and actively pursing this birth for us all as a family. Finding the incredible JB (http://www.joyousbirth.info) - meeting many of the members, reading their stories and being inspired, meeting their children, having their support. Finding the absolute best and most wonderful, professional, caring, brilliant midwife we could have possibly found, one with excellent ideas and values of birthing and the experience and needs of women. Also, hugely important and inspirational was finding Jessica's birth story on her website (http://www.jessicas-haven.com/baby.htm) and joining her yahoo group for birth after inverted-T inscision. Until her story, I never heard of a T-scar vaginal birth, and hers is so lovely too .
I hope my homebirth after two caesareans with a t-scar at 45 weeks helps other women seek out this experience for themselves with confidence and excitement as all these influences helped me and made it happen.

(I'm also happy for anyone to contact me if they would like to!)


* Since the question has been raised, I just thought I'd add - yes, the gestation period is exact to the day . A few months of recorded ovulation/menstrual cycles + ultrasound at 6 weeks all very neatly confirms it.

                                                                                                                                   * * *

It's taken me all my hands free moments over these past 6 days to write this out, and over this time 'Baby' had not been officially named.
During our pregnancy we had a lot of people bring their fears to us, from Dr's to family to the woman who did my acupuncture (!) and many many others, and the discussions of the wildly irresponsible risk, and how could we know we were doing the right thing... Almost every conversation would be D and I saying "Well, he moves. So we know he's ok." (E pur si Muove. ) and it became a bit of a geeky joke between us because at the top of our name list, the one only we like and the name we finally settled on this evening is Galileo. <3

-Chloe