Welp, I did it. I successfully had a home birth. I mean, I knew it would happen, but I never in a million years thought it would have been SO EASY. Let’s back track though so that I can explain from the beginning.
My labor and delivery with my first daughter was your standard in-hospital birth with an epidural. However, it was so far from what I wanted her birth to be like and did not go according to plan at all. I labored for 46 hours and pushed for almost three hours. I was mistakenly told I had Group B Strep (even though I tested negative for it) and was hooked up to an IV for three hours which TOTALLY threw a wrench in my plans. I fought with the nurses to be able to eat anything and the incessant cervical checks and machine monitors were not providing the calming and relaxing atmosphere I had wanted. My daughter was eventually born though and she was perfect and while her birth wasn’t ideal, I hold no grudges against how she came into the world. When we got pregnant this second time, we began with the same prenatal care that I had had previously. It was with a midwife clinic that delivered entirely at the hospital. At 27 weeks pregnant, we changed our mind though. I knew I wanted a different, more pleasant experience with this birth and I knew the only way I would have complete control over how she was born, was if we did it at home. So, 12 weeks before her due date, we took on a new midwife and completely altered our birth plan. That was one of the best decisions we ever made.
My due date was June 2nd, but I was ready to meet her as soon as I reached the 38 week mark. My mother-in-law had just arrived in town, my mother had just returned from her out-of-state vacation and our birth kit and tub had been delivered. All the pertinent pieces were falling into place and we were ready. I began to do some serious walking in the evenings, and even did a four mile walk on one particular weekend *hoping* that it would encourage our little one to “drop.” With my first daughter, she never actually dropped. Observers of my belly would tell me she wasn’t coming any time soon because she was sitting so high. When I told my midwife my worry that she wouldn’t drop, she laughed at me and said there was nowhere for her to drop to. I have a very small torso. Needless to say, the same thing happened this time around. Belly was high up into my chest and everyone kept telling me she was nowhere near ready to come out as my due date approached.
Well, on May 30th, with my belly still high as could be, I went into labor.
But let me backtrack once again. On May 29th, a lot happened which I am convinced led to the beginning of our labor. Throughout the whole pregnancy Bryan and I could NOT agree on a name. He had has favorites, I had mine, but neither of us favored the other’s suggestions. On the morning of the 29th, he texted me that he wanted the baby’s name to be Veda. That name was my absolute favorite and the whole time he HATED it. I was ecstatic with his decision. Fast forward and later that evening, we did our daily routine of a walk around the neighborhood. Izobelle requested a dance party afterward and we did just that. We rocked out to all the latest hits with arm swings and booty shakes. Afterward, feeling quite tired, I retired upstairs for some quiet time, which included sipping a glass of wine and taking a long, warm bubble bath.
I woke up at 6:30 the next morning with what felt like a small cramp. After three of those had come and gone, I awoke from my sleep-induced suspicions and realized I should start timing them to see if this was the real deal or not. One hour and nine contractions later, a smile swept across my face as I came to the realization that I was in labor. With my first birth four years ago, I remember getting SO worked up and anxious when I realized I was in labor, so this time around, I made a conscious effort to remain calm, cool, and collected. I got out of bed and took a warm, long shower, threw on a bit of makeup, and folded some laundry. I called my midwife to let her know I was having consistent contractions–about 30 seconds long and anywhere from 8-12 minutes apart. She told me to keep her updated on my progress. I went downstairs to tell my husband who was asleep on the couch that we were in labor and then I proceeded to go outside for a solo walk. This was THE MOST relaxing walk of my life. The crisp, cool morning air encompassed me like a blanket as a walked the 1/2 mile loop of our neighborhood. It was so quiet and calming and the stillness allowed me to focus on my breathing through the contractions, which were still very mild at the time. I rubbed my belly with each cramp and thought about how the little baby who had been growing inside me would soon be in my arms. When I returned to the house, my husband had rallied the troops (Izobelle and my mother-in-law) and they were all eagerly awaiting an update from me. I assured them that I was in labor and asked Bryan to escort me on another walk. We held hands, kissed, timed contractions and discussed how our lives were going to be changing that day. It was a perfect moment.
When we got back to the house around 9:30am, Bryan began setting up the birth tub in the living room, I started vacuuming (side note: we have a golden retriever who sheds everywhere, so the idea of people coming over to my house with clumps of dog hair scattered about was painful to think about–I HAD to vacuum), and we called all members of our birth team, which included my mother who was going to be present, my father who was in charge of retrieving Izobelle and the dogs, our birth photographer, our doula and the midwives. The contractions were still pretty mild and felt like menstrual cramps, but I began leaking clear fluid, so much so that I needed to wear a maxi pad. When my midwife heard that leaking was happening, she announced she was on her way, even though my contractions were still no closer than 8-10 minutes apart. Around 10:30, everyone began showing up to the party. When my two midwives arrived, they began setting up their medical station and instructed Bryan to start filling the pool, as it was expected to take around 2-4 hours to fill. My main midwife, Misty, took me upstairs to the master bedroom to check me for the first time. I was 4 cm dilated and 100% effaced. While not much, that was music to my ears. With my first pregnancy, I was in unbearable pain at 4cm and this time around, I was doing just fine. My dad also showed up around this time to collect our first born and two fur babies. As I gave her a big hug just before she left, a flood of emotions ran rampant through my mind. I squeezed her tight, gave her a kiss, and let her sweet “Bye Mommy, I love you” voice play on repeat in my head. She walked out the door and I began to cry for the first time. I cried because I knew her life would forever be changed once she returned home. I cried because she would no longer be an only child. She would no longer have 100% of our attention all the time. I cried because I was so happy she was going to be meeting her new little sister soon. I wiped the tears away and decided to go on another walk outside. Bonnie (our photographer), Alicia (our doula) and myself stepped outside into the warmth and sunshine. We timed my contractions, which seemed to be getting a bit closer, and the ladies kept me laughing and talking, which was a nice distraction from the increasing pain.
When we returned to the house, the midwives were leaving saying they wanted to give us our space, and that they would stay in the area and await our call. They projected a 5-7pm delivery time.
Because we had estimated that early labor would be much longer, we had planned to make a Birth Day cake, as a distraction from the pain. It turned out baking was not such a good idea for a laboring woman. My poor husband got stuck in the kitchen making the cake, which had been started earlier that morning, while my doula and I worked with my body to deal with the contractions. I sat on the yoga ball for almost an hour because it was so comfortable as my doula worked on massaging my backs and hips. I breathed through each contraction with closed eyes and a relaxed mind. Every time it looked like I was getting tense, I could feel the finger tips of my doula press down gently on my shoulders to get me to untense.
After a while, we all decided to go on another walk. Do you see that this was a common theme in my labor? When we left the house, I was feeling the pain increase quite a bit, but it was still very manageable and I could still talk and walk through them. Half way through the walk however, shit got real. I was in active labor and I had to stop during each contraction and lean against Alicia for support. She would hold me up, as I breathed heavily through the aches. As soon as the contraction ended, I was back to walking, smiling, laughing and talking. It was like a light switch. Fun fact: on this walk, we discovered a visitor badge from the hospital labor and delivery center stuck to the sidewalk. The birth Gods were sending us a sign. Today was the day.
As we approached the house, Bryan met us outside just in time for a contraction to hit me. I pressed my body up against his and put my weight on him as he held me. I closed my eyes, let my brain shut down, and just breathed. The contraction passed and we walked the rest of the way home, knowing in my mind that that would be my last walk outside.
When we got back from our fourth walk, I was in the zone. I sat back on the birth ball for a long time. Bryan and our doula took turns taking care of me as they applied pressure to various points on my body that looked or felt tense. After an hour or so, I could hear someone suggest that the midwives needed to be called because I was “no longer able to communicate between contractions.” I remember hearing this and thinking, “wow, they’re right. It’s hard for me to talk right now.” My mom showed up at some point during all of this and I decided not to look at her. I knew if I did, I would see sadness in her eyes from the pain she was watching her daughter go through. I let her hug me from behind, as I looked forward continuing to concentrate on bringing a baby into the world.
Within 15 minutes of someone suggesting a call to the midwives, they showed up to assess my situation. They told me I was in transition by the sound of my voice and how closer and and stronger the contractions were. I saw that the pool was full and wanted to get in. Problem. The pool was 111 degrees and the midwives said the water needed to be 101 degrees. So, everyone in the room quickly began filling buckets with pool water to dump out, so that colder water could get put in. Shortly after, the water was ready and I entered. The first position I tried was sitting on the attached inflatable seat. That was a huge no-go, as it was SO uncomfortable. I then got on my knees and leaned over the side. Much better. Misty kept telling me that I needed to spread my legs more to get the baby to move down. I did not take kindly to that, as I could feel increased pressure the more my legs were pushed apart. Within 10 minutes of being in the water, the pressure became incredible and pushing seemed imminent. I started letting out moans and “ow, ow, ow!” with contractions as they began to last about 60 seconds and were 10-30 seconds apart. The water, however, was so calming to my body in between the contractions. I felt like I could practically fall asleep as the pain subdued; almost like I was in a trance-like state. But then the pain would return, and my breathing would become louder and heavier. But I was doing it. I was working with my body through each wave of intensity and I was succeeding. Bryan got in the tub with me and I leaned back against him so Misty could check me for the second time. I was 8cm dilated. I got back into my hands and knees position, leaning against the tub, focusing all my energy on getting through each rush. The doula and midwife kept applying cold rags to my forehead and neck and these felt WONDERFUL. Every couple of minutes a straw would grace my lips and I would suck in some refreshing cold water. My eyes remained closed for most of this time and the sounds and chatter amongst everyone seemed like white noise.
Shortly after Misty checked me, the urge to push was there and I could not refrain. Misty instructed me to push when I felt the urge to push, but to remember to keep breathing through the contractions. Easier said than done, but I took that challenge head on. I was so excited to start pushing. The next contraction came and I did not hold back. I began pushing with the pressure, occasionally holding my breath while doing so *oopsies* but I was reminded of my instructions quickly. The pushing was the most meaningful, painful work I’ve ever done. I had an epidural with my first daughter, so I was a virgin to the pain of pushing. I suddenly knew why they called the sensation of a baby crowing “the ring of fire.” That shit burned. But then the contraction would cease, and I would rest my head, quiet my lips, and slip into complete relaxation. While these moments only last for a few seconds, they were exactly what I needed to regain my energy before the next rush of pain was upon me. Within a few minutes, Misty told me to reach down and feel the baby. When I did, I was greeted with a bubble coming out of me. Literally. It was like a tennis ball size bubble coming out of my vagina. I looked quickly to Misty and asked her what I was feeling and she replied “she’s being born in her amniotic sac.” At one point in my pregnancy, my birth photographer and I had joked about the baby being born in sac and how it would be “the photo of a lifetime.” I quickly shot Bonnie a look to let her know that picture just might become a reality. Before too much excitement could carry on, the next contraction came and more pushing took place. Within a couple minutes, I felt a popping sensation and lifted my knee to feel what had come out. At the time, I thought it was her whole body. But, alas, it was just her head. Misty urged me for one more push and before I knew it, she was placing Veda Lynn Peck in my arms at 2:44pm.
She was so beautiful.
I leaned back into my husband’s body and we held her for several minutes, listening to her cry, staring in awe at the little human we made together.
Total pushing time was 10-15 minutes. Eventually, Misty suggested that we get out of the tub to cut the umbilical cord. I was helped out of the tub and onto my couch where I delivered the placenta shortly after. Bryan and I were then led upstairs where we got to snuggle and breastfeed Veda in peace and quiet. This was one of the best parts about our home birth: being alone with our baby after meeting her. No rushing to other rooms, no pressure to get her statistics before being able to bond, no constant hourly checks from hospital staff. It was just our little family all alone.
Afterward, the midwives joined us and weighed our baby at 8 pounds 4 ounces and measured her at 19.5 inches long.
She was perfect.
Alicia made me a peanut butter and honey sandwich and a tall glass of gatorade. It was so delicious and refreshing. I couldn’t believe that I woke up in labor at 6:30am and had her in my arms before 3pm. I watched as everyone cleaned up the mess in the living room and eventually, you wouldn’t have been able to tell a baby was born there at all.
I never knew how common a word like “poop” could become until I myself, became a mother, and the joys of potty training a two year old began.
Little LeRoux & Life 