The Journey Begins
I never thought a home birth would be for me. Only crazy people did that, right? My best friend had a home birth, that was my
first real exposure to it. Then I joined
a natural birth community in Louisiana when I was pregnant with Evelyn and it
opened my eyes a bit more. But it still
seemed too “fringe” for me. Then I had
Evelyn, via unnecessarean, and home birth didn’t sound so crazy to me. Several months later I got pregnant with
Lucy. Home birth actually came up in my
mind as a viable option. In one of my
first visits with my current HCP I asked if he supported home birth. That’s quite a change in less than 2 short
years. But I learned of the importance
of quality care and discovered this kind of care is really best achieved at
home with a midwife. I must admit, some
of my wanting a home birth was to prove that home birth is safe and
natural. I learned however that to HBAC
in Louisiana is extremely difficult. It
wasn’t a fight I was willing to fight. I
also had doubts in my body being able to go through all of labor and birth,
after all it didn’t “work” the first time around with Evelyn. So I agreed to do a VBAC in the hospital with
baby #2 and home birth should we be blessed with baby # 3. After 22 hours of natural labor, I had my
successful VBAC. I was now a prime
candidate for a home birth. I’ve been
envisioning how everything will play out in my mind for months. Do I want to labor upstairs or down? Do I want the girls around? Do I want a doula
in addition to my fabulous midwife? Will
I like the idea of not having food delivered to me whenever I call for it, even
if it is less than edible food?
Well, baby #3 is here.
I thought the main obstacle would be cost. Our insurance is great and so a birth for us
in a hospital setting is affordable, possibly even cheaper than a home
birth. Perhaps cost shouldn’t be a major
factor, but it is. I recently learned
that I will encounter more obstacles than just determining how much I want to
spend. I “proved” my pelvis, whatever
the hell that means. Because it was
broken before? Give me a flippin
break! I have to get permission from the
Louisiana Medical Board. I have a hunch
how that will go: we have the highest cesarean rate in the country, March of
Dimes rated Louisiana F in all areas of maternal and infant care, and the
president of LACOG is a complete moron and wasn’t afraid to hide it infront of
the Health and Welfare Committee on May 2.
We are also in a time in our country in which female reproductive
choices aren’t left up to the women, that would just be silly, but men. Not her husband kind of man, but of just
random men who don’t know me from Adam, err Eve! Before when I thought cost was my only
obstacle I was ok with that, because I was the obstacle. Now there is an arbitrary obstacle. Now I’m pissed. Now I want to cry. Now I wish I had the where with all when I
was in labor with Evelyn to say “NO” to that damned c-section. Or at least ask for more time. But no, it happened. Not because Evelyn and I were in distress,
but come to find out my doctor felt sorry for me because she thought I was
tired! TIRED?!?!??!!! This recent development makes me want to
fight for a home birth all the more. So
what I’m hoping this will be is a journey for my home birth, and if not that
then helping another mom in this “Great” state to achieve her goal of a home
birth!
Politics of birth in
Louisiana:
This afternoon I had my first prenatal visit with my
wonderfully supportive OB. I will leave his name out because birth can be so
political. He is a diamond in the rough
and if I can prevent further criticism or scrutiny I will. While pregnant with Lucy he and I discussed
home birth, I mentioned this in my previous post. I brought it up several other times, most
recently a few weeks ago when I went in for a routine check-up. As usual, when he entered the room, he greeted
me with a warm smile, hug, and of course a “Congratulations!” I didn’t even have a chance to mention
anything about home birth when he said, “Are you still wanting a
homebirth?” Uhh…yes! Without even asking, he offered his
support. I was shocked, never did I
imagine it would be THAT easy! Thank you
Lord! He assured me that it was a safe
decision. He was impressed with how I
managed my pain during the birth with Lucy.
He also said we have a great relationship. If he were in front of the courts he would
not be so outwardly supportive and would likely discuss the risks. But again said, but you know that so much of
this decision is relational. He went on, “ If my group finds out and they
don’t’ support it, that’s fine. “ I
explained that eventhough my pelvis has been “proven” I would still likely have
to go in front of the medical board and I would need in writing that he is my
back-up. He replied, “That’s fine, I’ll
put it in writing!” I nearly cried, I
couldn’t believe it.
It’s not all a done deal.
I now have to determine the next steps: mainly the Louisiana Medical
Board. But just like that, I have a
supportive OB! After his offer to
support me I wanted to convey that I did not at all want to put him in a difficult
situation. He is a diamond in the rough
for moms wanting VBAC and I didn’t want to jeopardize care for moms in the
future, or even cause strife in his marriage.
If he came up on the chopping block, a whole host of moms would be by
his side to support him. While he
appreciated the concern he assured me that he felt very comfortable with this
decision.
Encouraging a
supportive mate:
Initially, Taylor was nervous about the idea of a homebirth,
understandably so. He wasn’t shocked at
the idea because we began talking about the possibility of a homebirth during
Lucy’s pregnancy. But he didn’t spend
the hours upon hours that I did researching the risks and benefits of
homebirths. For several weeks in a row,
after prenatal visits with our OB and midwife I asked if he was sure about a
homebirth. I think midway through the pregnancy
something in him clicked. After a visit
with our midwife he said, “It just makes sense.
Why wouldn’t we have a homebirth with Sherri? She has so much experience.” Through the rest of the pregnancy he would
continue to make comments about this. My
mind had been made up months prior, but if he was truly not comfortable with
the situation then I was open to a birth at the hospital with our OB. Eventually, his main concern became being
sure the window in our carport was covered.
(things went too quickly for that to ever happen). One night in bed to we talked about who would catch the
baby. He was resolved to be the one. I was surprised. With Evelyn’s birth I don’t think he had much
desire to see the actual birth and the thought of cutting the cord was a bit
much for him. Then with Lucy, he watched
the birth and eagerly cut the cord. And
now he wanted to be the one who caught our baby girl. I find it interesting that in our own way
both Taylor and I evolved from one pregnancy to the next. Thankfully, we evolved in the same direction,
with the same common goal.
Prenatal Visits:
My midwife attended Lucy’s birth as my montrice and already
had a working relationship with my OB.
As labor support teams go, they were dynamic and very supportive. They also have a great deal of respect for
each other. As an HBAC, with a proven
pelvis, there were certain guidelines I had to follow with regard to prenatal
visits: how many times I had to see the OB, labs, tests, etc. As evidence of their great relationship my
midwife said, “do whatever tests and however many visits the doc wants you to,”
and my doctor said, “what does Sherri want you to do?” I never received care or information that
contradicted each other, in many ways they were merely an extension of the
other person.
Given that my midwife is the director of the midwifery
program at SLCC in Lafayette, prenatal visits went differently than most
homebirth prenatals. In the beginning,
the girls and I drove out to SLCC and did our visit in a small classroom with
my midwife and about a dozen student midwives.
I loved it, the girls did too. I
love talking birth and so to be in a room with that many women who view birth
the same way you do and you are the main topic of conversation, what’s not to
love? I had no problem letting 13 sets
of hands feel the positioning of the baby, ask questions, and then return to
feel again. Goodness knows we need more
midwives and I had no problem being the mom they could practice their skills
with.
In the 3rd trimester we began having prenatal
visits in our home. The girls loved when
Sherri came over. She let them each use
a measuring tape and even borrow her stethoscope. It became commonplace at our house after
visits that Evie would take my blood pressure and Lucy would try to measure
me. They spoke very affectionately about
Sherri and when they discovered that they missed out on a prenatal visit they
were not all that pleased with me.
The Birth
My EDD was January 16.
Sherri expected that I would go about a week late. I went late with Lucy and she also found that
first time home birth moms tended to go
late. This very likely probability made
it easy to make a surprise visit up to Ohio at week 37-38 of the
pregnancy. Being that far along made my
family a little uneasy but I assured them that this baby was coming late, so I
had WEEKS to go. I was back in Baton
Rouge on January 5. The next day I
attended a beautiful shower thrown by two wonderful girlfriends for Melissa and
I. January 13 Josie was born. Everyone was shocked. Good thing I didn’t extend my trip to Ohio!
Friday, January 11
The week leading up to Josie’s birth I was a nesting machine
and thankfully Taylor was on his regularly scheduled 7 days off. Here’s a laundry list of what I accomplished:
*grocery shopping to prepare for the apocalypse (snacks,
produce, towels for the homebirth, diapers, breast pads, etc)
*2 batches each of jambalaya and red beans and rice
*homemade honey sticks and laborade for myself and 2
girlfriends
* finished Josie’s quilt
and attempted to finish her afghan (carpal tunnel got in the way)
*put away 6 baskets of laundry, washed another 10 loads
*organized two closets, cleaned out the toy room, cleaned
our upstairs living room, cleaned our bedroom
*somewhat cleaned out the van and wrote out directions for
my friend who would keep the girls when I went into labor
*solidified arrangements for my MIL to come into town MLK
weekend to help even if there was no baby
And of course the regular day to day mother/housewife type
stuff. We even managed to go to the
library, attend MOPS, go to a birthday party, clean up a friend’s son’s vomit,
and best of all have a wonderful date night with my husband to celebrate our
belated 5 year anniversary. Needless to
say we packed a lot in!
So, back to Friday.
Friday afternoon my husband returned to work for his weekend of
nights. That evening I began feeling
quite a bit of pressure on my cervix and what I thought might be
contractions. I refused to post anything
on facebook about this progress because I didn’t want to get ahead of
myself. After all, my midwife and I were
expecting that I go 1 week late, not one week early. So while I didn’t post
anything on my own page I had a moment of weakness and posted in the mother to
mother ICAN group. They were all
supportive telling me things like: enjoy your last few days as a family of 4,
rest, etc. All through the pregnancy I
told myself that the baby would come around Jan 24, not the 16, so when it came
close to my due date I wouldn’t be making “impatient” facebook posts. Yet here I was doing just that. So while I slipped in this one area, I wasn’t
letting myself do any sort of “do it yourself” induction methods. There was no intentional eating of spicy
foods, no pressure points, no pineapple, and I really didn’t even give much
thought to whether I was taking my EPO.
I really was comfortable with the baby coming whenever. But of course if she wanted to come early that
would be fine. Late that night I
thought, “maybe she isn’t coming because I haven’t given Kate directions for
the girls.” So I sent her an email with
our routines. She would be borrowing our
van and I knew I clean it out, but 11PM was a bit too late for that. No baby.
Saturday, January 12
Saturday morning, after spending another evening kind of
sleeping on the couch, I awoke to discover I had lost my mucous plug. I was pleasantly surprised. But remembered it didn’t necessarily mean all
that much. I could go into labor hours
later or not for 2 more weeks. But, it
was progress and it was a sign that I wouldn’t stay pregnant forever.
The girls and I went over to a friend’s house for a birthday
party. I continued to notice discharge
when I went to the bathroom and I still had some contractions, but not like the
night before. I took it somewhat easy
and didn’t feel totally bad letting my friends keep an eye on my girls. At one point a friend’s boy threw-up. She wasn’t in a position to clean it up so I
helped. It took sometime for people to
realize what I was doing and my friend Bethany said, “I just realized you’re
cleaning the floor. Why are YOU cleaning
the floor?!” I jokingly yelled back, “I
want to have this baby, leave me alone!”
When I got home Taylor put the girls down for naps. I dealt with the homebirth linens: sheets in
brown bags, folded 6 towels, 6 washcloths and 6 blankets. I gathered the outfits I would want the baby
in first. I organized the birth basket:
honey sticks, peri bottles, lidocaine, chapstick, etc. Lastly, I did a half-ass job of cleaning out
the van. Upon completing that I thought,
“now the baby can come.”
That evening I remember spending a little bit more time with
Evie than usual when I put her to bed.
The thought crossed my mind, “what if this is the last time I put her to
sleep before the new baby?” Weird how I
had these little inklings.
Sunday, January 13
I spent another evening sleeping on the couch. I woke up around 5:30 or so and had to use
the restroom. I returned to “bed” and
had a feeling something may happen today.
But I still wasn’t convincned.
Statistically natural birthing moms go into labor at night, so I thought
at the very least I had 12-14 more hours before labor of anything started. 6AM:
Laying on the couch, watching HGTV, I felt a small “pop.” As someone who has had a cesarean, the first
thing that came to my mind was, “oh great, hope that wasn’t my uterus.” I stayed still and didn’t really feel
anything else. Then I had the urge to go
pee. As soon as I sat up I felt a gush,
it stopped me in my tracks. “Oh
crap!” Not only had my water broken but
I only had on a panty liner and I did not want amniotic fluid on my couch! Walking as quickly and awkwardly as possible,
so as to not leak everywhere, I made my way to the bathroom. Sure enough, once I sat more fluids came and
my underwear was soaked. “Oh crap!” I turned on the shower, my hair was in
desperate need of a washing. Almost
immediately I began crying. Evelyn’s
birth started with broken bags of water and ended in a very unnecessary cesarean. I began to tearfully pray: “Lord, you are
over this birth. You will do what is
best. Please, Lord. Please, Lord.” I began thinking, “I had my VBAC, maybe God’s
will was only 1.” I finished my shower
and let that be the end of those thoughts.
And I slipped into a pair of depends.
6:15 AM: I called my midwife. I know she was surprised to hear from me, I
was only 39w4d. “My water just
broke.” I proceeded to tell her about
the contractions Friday and the mucous plug Saturday. I was presently not really having any
contractions or at least none that I would pay attention to if my water had not
just broken. She told me to go back to
bed and see if a pattern developed. She
planned to come over later in the morning to see how things were
progressing. She assured me that we had
about 12-18 hours before we needed things to get going. That brought me some relief. However, I knew returning to bed would not be an option. I began making myself breakfast: egg and
sausage sandwich. While waiting for the
food to cook I French braided my hair, something I’ve wanted done during the
other births but never managed to make it happen.
6:30 AM: Contractions started and so I downloaded the
contraction APP on my phone. This was
MUCH easier than using a stop watch and writing it all down, like I did for
Lucy for 2 straight hours. It didn’t
take very long for me to have to stop what I was doing each time I had a
contraction. I started breakfast for
the girls and began packing their suitcase for their stay with Jon and Kate. Around 7AM or so Evie woke up. I began to prep her for what would happen
that day: mama was going to have the baby today, she was going to play with
Haven and sleep at her house. She was
very excited about everything.
Contractions were still going strong: 5 minutes apart and approximately
30 seconds long. I debated whether I
wanted to have the girls infront of a video and then realized the contractions
weren’t getting any weaker, so I got over any mom guilt. Eventually Lucy woke up and she eagerly
joined Evie at the table for breakfast and Pocoyo.
8:19AM: I called Kate
to let her know my water had broken but I had no idea how long things would
go. I wanted to be mindful of the fact
that the first service at church started at 9 and being the pastor’s wife I was
sure what all she needed to do. I asked
her to come get the girls, but there was no rush. Even if it would take hours for labor to get started I knew I didn’t want
to have them hanging around, especially since I was letting Taylor sleep as
long as possible after working nights.
She got someone to cover announcements for church and was waiting on our
friend Amber to come with her so she could pick up our van.
9:11AM: I called
Sherri and let her know I definitely had a consistent labor pattern: 5 minutes
apart 30 seconds each. She told me she
was on her way. Meanwhile the girls were
still strapped into their chairs eating breakfast and watching Pocoyo. Everytime Lucy saw me have a contraction
she’d say: “Fussy?” “Sleeping?”
9:40AM: The girls were still settled into their chairs
eating and watching Pocoyo. The
contractions were starting to change a bit, I was feeling them more in my
pelvis. I decided it would probably be
wise to wake-up Taylor. I slowly walked
up the stairs and quietly woke him. Our
conversation went like this: “Taylor, my
water broke and I’m having contractions.”
Taylor: “What? Really?” I continued: “My water broke at 6,
contractions started around 6:30, they are 5 minutes apart and 30 seconds
long. Kate should be here any minute to
get the girls and Sherri is on her way.”
At this point though I didn’t really need him to help me with the
contractions, but I had a feeling things were changing and progressing
quickly. As I walked out our bedroom door
I heard Kate and Amber enter the house to get the girls. We chatted a bit and the I had to grab the
chair for a contraction. And then I
directed them to all the stuff to load into the van. Five minutes later I had another contraction. But this contraction was a little shorter but
I was feeling it in my pelvis. A few
minutes later, less than 5, I had another contraction, probably not as long as
30 seconds. I had stopped timing my
contractions once both the girls were up.
It was evident that I was indeed in labor and trying to keep track of
them with the girls around was useless.
Before leaving Kate said, “Once you start groaning you know it’s gonna
be coming soon.” Within 5 minutes of
them leaving I had 3 contractions. She
and Amber prayed over me, which I greatly appreciated. I kissed Evie and Lucy goodbye in the
van. Evie was SO excited that the baby
was going to be coming soon. Taylor came
down with enough time to also say goodbye to the girls.
Contractions were coming more frequently and with greater
intensity. In between each contraction I
gave him orders of last minute things: clearing a space in the living room for
the birth tub, put a sheet on the bed in the toy room, lay the tarp down on the
floor, etc. I had several contractions
holding onto the wall by the stairs. But
then I realized that the counter in the kitchen may provide better support,
plus I had a hankering for an apple. In between contractions I sliced the apple
and nibbled when I could. It didn’t take
long for me to realize that I needed him to be present during the
contractions. I didn’t necessarily need
him to do anything, but I didn’t want to feel alone. After a contraction I would send him back to
a task and a few minutes later I’d yell and he would come running. I could tell I was not managing them well and
I was starting to feel a lot of pressure. I didn’t vocalize it but I felt like
I could start pushing. I wanted to sway
and I wanted to do light squats but it was more pressure than I could
handle. In between contractions I swayed
and that helped a bit but for some reason when a contraction came it was very
difficult for me to move. I knew the
baby was going to come soon and I did not want to do it without Sherri.
10:39AM: I told
Taylor to call Sherri and let her know that I felt like I needed to push. I was still laboring at the kitchen
counter. I was moaning and praying: “Oh,
Lord. Please Lord.”
11:00AM: Sherri arrived.
It didn’t take long for her to realize that our baby girl was coming
quick. I got bits and pieces of a
conversation between she and Taylor…essentially they were both surprised how
quickly things progressed. Her first
thought was to fix the tub and then I said, “She’s coming.” Sherri responded: “Ok, where do you want to
birth her.” I replied, “I don’t
care. She’s coming.” Taylor helped me to start walking toward the
toy room and stopped in my tracks right outside the door. I started to push and yelled, “She’s
coming.” I think I had two contractions
there. My butt was aching. Sherri urged me to at least make it to the
bed and get off my feet because it would make it better for my butt. It was nearly impossible to walk, it was such
a strange feeling. Every step was
painful. I finally made it to the bed in
what seemed to take an eternity. I
hastily grabbed what pillows I could and leaned over the bed. The pushing continued. My pushing with Lucy was quite calm and
quiet. This experience was quite
different. I knew it would be
counterproductive to yell but there was no way in hell I could push
quietly. So somewhere between a yell and
a groan the words that got me through were “Oh lord Jesus. Please Lord.
Come out. Please.” In desperation I inquired, “Is she
coming?” Sherri assured me that she
was. I felt so desperate, I didn’t want
to push for hours like I did for Lucy. I
groaned: “It’s burning.” I knew that was
a good sign, but it didn’t help me at all.
I felt her head crown and then before I knew it I felt pressure and her
going back up. I cried out, “No! Don’t go back up!” And then in my mind it felt like everything
stopped. I guess that’s the break in
contractions that they talk about during the pushing stage. Before I knew it I had another contraction I
started pushing her little head out again.
But things were different this time.
Her head was crowning but was moving all around and simultaneously I was
feeling that same pressure that occurred when she went back up inside. I felt like Sherri was pushing her back up
inside and man was I pissed, but I didn’t say a thing. Sherri could tell I was frustrated and she
explained that her head was out but she was turning it around to get the right
positioning. I asked again, “Is she
coming? Can you see her?” She laughed and said, “she’s here, she’s
coming.” This gave me great hope.
11:21AM: I bared down
and pushed again and could feel her body squirm out of me. Before I knew it she was in my arms and I was
crying and laughing! My little girl was
born, in my house! Holy crap! I was done!
5 hours and 21 minutes and my baby was born! Apparently when all goes well my body is
meant to birth quickly.
After the birth it was great to sit relaxed in my own bed,
in my own home. There was no hustle and
bustle. No one scrubbing on the baby, no
measuring tape, no whisking her off to get measurements and weight that would
remain the same several hours later. I
sat reclined on the bed waiting to birth the placenta. About 20-30 minutes later Charlotte, the
student midwife arrive, and she helped with the placenta. Once the placenta was out and the cord was
cut Taylor and I were left alone. Sherri
and Charlotte were charting, cleaning up from the birth, cleaning linens, and
even folding laundry from the day before.
The only time they really came into the room was when I needed to use
the bathroom. Periodically one of them
would come in to check my blood pressure, but it was very peaceful and not at
all the big charade it is in the hospital.
I had no tearing and likely didn’t lose more than 200ml of blood (if
that’s the measurement).
Throughout the remainder of the day I would laugh and say,
“I’m SO glad I’m not still in labor.”
“She’s here, can you believe she’s here already.” And, “If this were Lucy, I’d be laboring for
12 more hours!”
Several hours post partum
Sherri, Charlotte, Taylor and I began talking about the events of the
morning and how we all had these little inklings to do things slightly
different. We all knew something was
going to happen, only God knew that our little Josie would be born. A friend of mine sent me a message after
hearing of her birth that said, “Congratulations, I knew there was a reason you
were on my mind all morning.” This was
the sense that we all had. I then started thinking what would have happened if
I instead planned a hospital birth.
Josie would have been born in the parking lot, if we even made it that
far. I had no way of knowing how quickly
things would progress and given Lucy’s birth it took hours and hours to
progress to the pushing stage. And once
I got to that point it was still several more hours before she was born. Then if I did make it into the hospital
before she was born it would have been an absolute zoo. I could imagine how frantic the nurses would
have been trying to hook me up to this, that and the other. And that would not have been a very peaceful
birthing environment. God knew and it
was all in His hands.
