I thought that I would share my birth history for anyone who may be interested or likes to read birth stories. It's sometimes helpful when you're trying to understand why a person does what they do, where they're coming from. And there was a time when I couldn't understand why someone would want to "risk" giving birth at home. Sure I respected their choices, in my ignorance, I just didn't understand it. Now I know that the safest place for me to deliver my babies is at home after having had a c-section with my fourth baby as your risk of complications rises with each successive c-section.
Personally, I just love a good birth story, particularly around my due date. I find that it helps to get me prepared somehow- but for those of you who don't, I gave a quick run down. I added all five births to this one post, so it's lengthy, but nothing too gross, I promise. If you don't have time to sit through it all at once, click on the Baby # of choice below to go straight to that birth story.
Abbreviated Version:
{Baby #1}
Boy
40 weeks, 0 days
7 pounds 11 oz.Hospital Birth
Induction- Cervadil
Pain Relief- Epidural (administered late)
Duration- 5 hours with second stage lasting minutes
{Baby #2}
Girl
41 weeks, 1 day
8 pounds 3 oz.Hospital Birth
Induction- None (Pitocin administered @ 8cm)
Pain Relief- Stadol @ time of pitocin)
Duration- 10 hours with second stage lasting minutes
{Baby #3}
Boy
40 weeks, 5 days
6 pounds 13 oz.Hospital Birth
Induction- Pitocin
Pain Relief- None
Duration- 7 hours with second stage lasting minutes
{Baby #4}
Girl
41 weeks, 1 days
8 pounds 6 oz.
Hospital BirthInduction- Pitocin
Resulted in emergency c- section due to misdiagnosed placenta previa
{Baby #5}
Boy
41 weeks, 3 days
7 pounds 13 oz.
VBAC Home Birth
Induction- None
Pain Relief- None
Duration- 5 hours, with second stage lasting minutes
{Baby #1}
I have found each of the births of my children to be a time that the Lord has used to reveal to me who He is. When I found myself expecting my first child I had been a strong evolutionist and pro-choice advocate. By the end of the pregnancy, I had learned so much about the process of the new life growing within me that I couldn't deny the fact that I had no part in it. I didn't make this baby. There had to be a Creator. And with the birth of that little boy, I found that I was being drawn by the Lord to my own new life in Jesus Christ.
When I was expecting my first-born, I knew nothing of the female body (compliments of a public school health class), certainly nothing about childbearing! And my very southern elderly OB was so very difficult for this yankee to understand that I just smiled and nodded during every appointment and hoped for the best. If he discussed anything about the birth (which I doubt), I either missed it or don't remember having the conversation.
Heading to the hospital, the only advice I remember being given is from my aunt, a nurse, (My mother had all 3 of us via c-section, hence the lack of expertise on the subject from her) who said that it was common for OB nurses to hold back on the drugs for young mothers (I was 18) to try to teach them a lesson so they wouldn't be coming back soon.
I never had a single Braxton Hicks the entire pregnancy and so two nights before my due date, when I started feeling contractions, I wasn't sure if they were the real thing or not. I assumed they weren't because of what little I did know. I was looking for regularly spaced contractions and these weren't. They were anywhere from two to four minutes. My mom encouraged me to call the hospital and the man I spoke with told me that since I was carrying on a conversation with him, I wasn't in labor. I went back to bed and continued with the contractions all of the next day (Easter Sunday) and had other indicators that I was in very early labor. But I was talking, so I blew them off.
The following day, Monday, was my due date and I was scheduled for an induction in the evening. We spent the day making last minute arrangements and after supper headed for the hospital where I checked in and waited for the doctor to arrive. He showed up, dressed to the nines, in a tuxedo. Not on my account, however, he was headed out on the town for the evening. He checked me for dilation and to his surprise and mine, I was two centimeters dilated. He decided to continue with the Cervadil induction anyway (which I've since learned should only be done on an un-dilated cervix) and said that he'd be back to deliver me before his office hours first thing in the morning.
It was about 6 pm and I had just been managed.
It was about 6 pm and I had just been managed.
Trouble-maker that I am though, things didn't go according to his plan.
Within in a short time, it was clear that I was progressing nicely and I did what everyone does and requested the epidural, ignorant of any risks or complications that it could present.
Then I waited.
And waited...
and waited...
and waited!!!
It felt like an eternity and I was fairly into transition, but the nurse just kept chatting and chatting away with my visitors and maintained the attitude that I wasn't in as much pain as I was making it seem. I began to fall asleep in between contractions and then awake after a minute or two in a panic, still no epidural in sight. When it finally did arrive, they decided to administer it despite the fact they felt that it wouldn't be effective. Sure enough, the doctors evening was spoiled and he had to come deliver me, the epidural hadn't had the slightest effect and I delivered my son just six hours after arriving at the hospital. He was 7 lbs. 11 oz. and inches long.
Most of the labor and delivery was a blur, and to be honest, I don't remember much immediately afterwards either. Snapshots have me looking beaten, tired, puffy, and wearing a goofy grin (which I attributed to the epidural).
*Many new mothers, myself included, get the epidural because that's just what you do. There are actually risks involved and side effects to both mother and baby that we aren't often made aware of.
I spent the next couple of days laying in a hospital bed where my pelvic bones settled into an unnatural position that left me barely able to walk for the first several weeks postpartum until chiropractic care gave me back my mobility. (Or it could have been a side effect from the epidural.)
When I took my baby home, I was filled an overwhelming sense of, "Now what do I do?"
It lasted all of about thirty minutes and then my journey into motherhood really began!
{Baby #2}
It was a long five years before I gave birth again. I experienced secondary infertility after the birth of my son and God used it to mold our beliefs about family planning and surrendering control over to Him. I had read a couple of books Sovereignty of God
by AW Pink and Be Fruitful and Multiply
by Nancy Campbell which transformed our thinking and shortly thereafter I found I was finally expecting again!
Now living in a different state, my new OB was a kind, very laid back man. During those five years though I had learned to desire more information about what my body was actually going through as I tried to understand why I wasn't able to get pregnant and how I could ease the burden on it by taking better care of myself. All my doctor seemed interested in was how the weather was outside.
At 33 weeks, I became fed up and decided to try the CNM that was now accepting my health insurance carrier. At the initial appointment, she spent nearly two hours with me! And I walked out with a stack of print-outs and brochures! Information!! I was so excited.
At my 41 week appointment, she stripped my membranes but it had no effect and a few days later I woke up at 5 am having contractions. We gathered our things and dropped our son off at my family's house and headed to the hospital.
It was a beautiful, warm, sunny spring morning and after checking in at the hospital we walked laps around the building until I felt like getting a snack. After eating and chatting with the midwife a bit, my contractions were intensifying to the point where I needed to be seated because I was falling asleep in between.
At eight centimeters, the midwife did several things to begin managing this birth. First, she broke my water. Second, pitocin was administered as my contractions were frequent and strong, but irregular. The pitocin made the baby's heart rate drop with the contractions so an internal monitor was placed. Finally, I was given a small dose of stadol to manage the pain. My birth plan stated that I didn't want any pain relief. I figured that I was able to essentially do it once without it, I could do it again. But she asked if I had changed my mind and at 8cm, I had very little backbone to stand upon my convictions.
It wasn't long before my first daughter was born and I was so thankful to be able to hold her and nurse her before she was taken away to be managed herself.
It was in general as good a hospital birth as I could possibly desire. Until my fifth child was born, I would have considered it picture perfect in fact!
{Baby #3 }
Two years and a week later, I woke up at 41 weeks pregnant shivering in bed with a fever. The day prior, I had been at the midwife for a routine examination where my membranes were stripped again. Immediately, something felt wrong. I was experiencing more than cramping. It was a painful sensitivity and I had gone to bed early feeling pretty lousy.
I did some natural things to try to manage the fever, but when I couldn't get it down, I was told to go to the hospital for an induction. At check-in, my dilation wasn't anything considerable and I was immediately hooked up to pitocin. I had intended to deliver this baby without any pain relief and had entered that on my birth plan. Feeling worn down and sick to boot, I was crying in pain. I was certain that the pitocin was so effective that I was well into transition when I was checked and reported to be a whopping two centimeters dilated. Two! Two cm! It felt more like eight! I'm a realist and threw in the towel, calling for the Stadol.
Then I waited...
and waited...
and waited...
and waited...
Finally, I was told it was on the way, that the nurse was getting it "right now." Meanwhile, the midwife decided to check me again. Four centimeters. Woo, hoo.(Did you catch the sarcasm?) My mental state was very bad- I had so much more ahead of me and I basically felt like I had been in hard labor for 6 hours - which is long for me- and I felt like I had the flu on top of it all!! But then she said things were stretchy, so she stretched and suddenly I was a nine!! I literally went from 4 to 9 cm in a matter of minutes. They prepped for delivery and by the time the nurse made it back with the stadol, I was delivering my second son which took all of a couple minutes.
Because of the fever, because I was GBS+, because of a fear of sepsis (due to the possibility of chorioamnionitis), I don't know. Take your pick I was told all three over the next couple days, there was suddenly a couple dozen people in the hospital room while the midwife left me two sheets to the wind while she waited for the placenta. It was mortifying, but my mental clarity wasn't what it could have been due to the fever, so my embarrassment is in retrospect. He was thoroughly examined and I was told that I could try to nurse him real quick, but then they had to take him to the NICU for a couple of days.
They were unable to get an IV in him, so they shaved what little hair was on his head and stuck the needle through his scalp and covered it with a little plastic cup so that he couldn't swat at it. I spent the next two days bothering the nursing staff in the NICU. They really wanted me to leave them alone. I requested that I nurse on demand and then they would go hours and hours without coming to get me (or all night!) and just said that he wasn't hungry! When I was in the room with him, the machines were constantly alarming that his stats were low and they would ignore them because they knew nothing was wrong except for overly sensitive machines. It was so nerve wracking and difficult for an emotional, irrational, postpartum mommy! When I was able to take him home, surrounded by visitors all taking turns rocking and holding my little man, I had to excuse myself for a bit of a breakdown. I felt as though I had barely held him since he had been born days earlier and I was jealous of sharing him with others!
He was a very good baby. So quiet, but a poor eater at first. We finally were able to get the hang of things though. The traumatic birth left him with torticollis that resulted in plagiocephaly which was thankfully resolved with excellent chiropractic care and massage therapy.
{Baby #4}
When I became pregnant with my fourth baby, I reluctantly returned to my midwife. I spent a lot of time after the birth believing that my fever was brought on because of an infection caused by the introduction of bacteria by being stripped. (And no, I hadn't necessary consented. It was an examination for dilation and then a "I'm going to strip you while I'm here.") But I knew that trying to find an OB wouldn't leave me any better off, so back I went. But I knew two things now: 1.) Pitocin is the devil and wouldn't be going into my veins again. and 2.) I didn't want to be stripped again. I just wanted to have a natural, body/baby/God-induced birth.
This pregnancy I was diagnosed with placenta previa. But I was told not to worry- she had never had a patient where it hadn't resolved itself prior to delivery. So I didn't. But as I approached my due date, my baby was in a transverse position and with much chiropractic care and maneuvering, we were able to get the baby oblique. (Her head seemed jambed in my hip socket.)
At my 41 week checkup I was told that "it was time to have this baby." And was sent to the hospital. I said that I'd rather not have pitocin again. "Just a bit to get things started" I was told. (Repeat scene. Repeat again.) I remember giving a pleading look at my husband who wasn't backing me and so I knew between her pushing and without his support, I caved. She had better pre-order the Stadol this time though.
On the drive to the hospital, I just couldn't imagine myself having the baby. It didn't seem as though it was really time. I had been through so much over the last few weeks as I struggled to get her into position. From the chiropractic adjustments and the supplemental work that my husband had been assigned by the chiropractor to do, to the spinning babies techniques, to even binding my rib cage to push her out of that space, I just couldn't wrap my mind around it finally being over. I knew that she still wasn't in the right position, so how could I give birth to her? I was gripped with fear and beginning to learn the lesson that as he thinketh in his heart so he is. (Proverbs 23:7) I feared I couldn't.
I checked in at 10 pm and was hooked up to the IV and pit drip. It did start out slowly enough. I saw from the monitor that I was having contractions and they weren't too painful for which I was grateful. Over the next couple hours, the nurse would keep coming back and kick the pit up a notch. The final time she returned, she turned it up more and within a few minutes I told her that I thought my water broke. I lifted my gown to find blood running down my leg instead.
My body's immediate response was to get weak and dizzy (blood does that to me, I feel so sorry for my poor children if they ever get truly injured). I got into bed and she checked me and pulled out a cupped hand full of blood. The resident was called in, checked me, and gave me an ultrasound where he found the placenta .5mm from my cervix! The midwife and her supporting physician arrived and I was prepped for a c-section while they argued about the location of my placenta. Never have I seen such denial. They both insisted on the accuracy of the ultrasound results from my last scan despite the evidence to the contrary!
I was shaking with fear and begging to be given general anesthesia which they wouldn't allow. I was taken in and
blah, blah, blah.
Sorry, I don't want to talk about it.
I made that decision three and a half years ago and I find it's the best way for me to cope with it. I know that for some women a c/s was no big deal, but I found it to be very traumatic.
I was thankful when I passed out during the operation because I knew that I would probably be able to avoid the urge I was having to throw up - which I didn't particularly want to do in front of my husband. When I woke up I was in recovery and it turns out had a lot to be thankful for. Not only was my daughter healthy, but my midwife had encouraged the doctor to keep trying to stop my uterus from bleeding when they couldn't get it stopped. She probably saved my uterus. Oh yeah, and the nurses tell me I have a beautiful scar for which I am to be thankful. (Credit: Midwife) I've never understand the oxymoron of having a beautiful scar.
I was anemic, my fingernails grew in funny, I looked the picture of death and I couldn't walk properly or function past 5 pm for six weeks. If I sat too long, I couldn't straighten up- it felt like I was stuck at the seam. The best part of my recovery was when the doctor went to remove my stitches and snipped the wrong spot and left them in. So I had to wait for them to work to the surface and pull the out myself. Bubbles and puppies and ice cream and warm sunny days. It was fun.
Or not. And certainly not a game I wanted to play again. Adjusting to life with a newborn and a whole passel of kids while recovering from normal childbirth is hard enough, but to do it while recovering from abdominal surgery... you won't see me raising my hand and volunteering any time soon.
I continued receiving care from the midwife who delivered my previous three children. At my 28 week appointment she casually asked me a question that would change the rest of my care. She inquired after the time frame that I typically gave birth. To which I replied that my babies had all been born during the 41st week. To which she said, "Well, we can't have that." She started talking about castor oil cocktails and what not. The reasoning behind the induction for women attempting a VBAC is that later babies, make bigger babies, and bigger babies increase the risk of a uterine rupture. My history of late deliveries with average sized babies didn't matter one bit.
As it turns out, in my state (because it varies by state, I've learned), a woman attempting a VBAC is only given a trial of labor. Then the insurance company dictates care down a checklist with the goal being to get the mother into the operating room. I wish I was making this up. Yes, there are some who make it through the checklist successfully, but I didn't want to risk it. I went home and explored my options.
A few weeks prior, I had watched a documentary over Netflix Watch Instantly called The Business of Being Born. My husband had balked at my selection, but I was ironing and wanted to watch something to make the time go by more quickly. Although he intended on falling asleep, he stayed up and watched the whole thing and by the end had said, "Too bad you're a VBAC or we could homebirth." So when my midwife and I had that conversation, I knew that was where I was being led.
I found a midwife, a CPM who had delivered all nine of her children at home and had attended over 3000 births including her own grandchildren. We met with her and loved her!
At 40 weeks, my entire little clan fell ill with a cold including me. I felt miserable and now I was going to have to give birth while I was sick. Poor, poor me, I lamented. What could be worse than coughing and sneezing your way through contractions?
It was fall and the days were getting chilly quickly. We wanted to utilize every available opportunity to dine outdoors and so one windy evening, we didn't let the weather deter us. It was terribly windy, the trees were swaying and we even heard some crash in the woods. It was no surprise to us when the power went out. It was a surprise when we awoke and it still wasn't on.
Flash forward a week, and I found myself living with my four children in my parents RV in my driveway and having periodic false starts at labor, but thankfully no longer ill. I had missed two appointments with my midwife who was also without power and I was convinced I was going to have my first homebirth baby the old fashioned way- by candlelight!!
Finally, the power was restored on Friday night. Saturday night I awoke with regular contractions and I tried to work them up into something by walking for half an hour outside (in the dark... with critters... moving around in the woods) and then sleeping for half an hour in shifts.
I saw Orion that night, or should I say morning as it was 4 am, for the first time of the year. (Irrelevant, but hey I remember it.)
The contractions eventually died away as the day dawned. I spent Sunday with irregular, but painful contractions with another sign of labor or two. I knew it was just a matter of time. My midwife said that mothers of many children often wait until the hustle and bustle of the day dies down before going into labor. I took a nap, but slept poorly. We went to my family's house for dinner, went home early, and I decided to go to bed. A couple hours later, I awoke, fully assured that it was time. It was my husband's bedtime and while he went to get some sleep, I went to the living room and paced while I watched the news and whatever trash comes on afterwards. My contractions were painful but irregular and I wasn't going to call and bother my midwife again until I was sure they weren't going away. After all, during each of my previous labors, I had been brainwashed into believing that if the contractions were irregular, they weren't real.
Finally at 2am, I woke my husband and consulted with him as to whether he thought I should call. They were closer, 2-4 minutes, but irregular. He said to and so I did. She said it was up to me if she should come now and I said that she probably should (she lived an hour away.) I took a shower while my husband tidied the house and prepared the supplies. After getting out of the shower, I knew it was time for me to start sleeping in between contractions so I sat in my glider to do so and listened to classical music on the radio.
My next and favorite memory of this birth was when I awoke to have a contraction. I was fully panicked about how far along I probably was. I suspected that it was nearly time, but I was trying to stay calm. The midwife was late, very late, and I had a more than sneaking suspicion that my poor innocent husband- who was trying to lighten the mood by riding the footstool bucking bronco style at the end of my bed to William Tell's Orchestra- was going to shortly be delivering his first baby. The midwife's location was assessed and I only had to wait maybe five minutes if she hurried. It turns out that she followed her GPS an hour south before realizing that my home wasn't in the middle of a cornfield and began to head in the right direction.
Within moments of her arrival, I was helped to the bed and she set up to deliver. Five minutes after walking through the door, my third little man was born!
*Many new mothers, myself included, get the epidural because that's just what you do. There are actually risks involved and side effects to both mother and baby that we aren't often made aware of.
I spent the next couple of days laying in a hospital bed where my pelvic bones settled into an unnatural position that left me barely able to walk for the first several weeks postpartum until chiropractic care gave me back my mobility. (Or it could have been a side effect from the epidural.)
When I took my baby home, I was filled an overwhelming sense of, "Now what do I do?"
It lasted all of about thirty minutes and then my journey into motherhood really began!
{Baby #2}
It was a long five years before I gave birth again. I experienced secondary infertility after the birth of my son and God used it to mold our beliefs about family planning and surrendering control over to Him. I had read a couple of books Sovereignty of God
by AW Pink and Be Fruitful and Multiply by Nancy Campbell which transformed our thinking and shortly thereafter I found I was finally expecting again!Now living in a different state, my new OB was a kind, very laid back man. During those five years though I had learned to desire more information about what my body was actually going through as I tried to understand why I wasn't able to get pregnant and how I could ease the burden on it by taking better care of myself. All my doctor seemed interested in was how the weather was outside.
At 33 weeks, I became fed up and decided to try the CNM that was now accepting my health insurance carrier. At the initial appointment, she spent nearly two hours with me! And I walked out with a stack of print-outs and brochures! Information!! I was so excited.
At my 41 week appointment, she stripped my membranes but it had no effect and a few days later I woke up at 5 am having contractions. We gathered our things and dropped our son off at my family's house and headed to the hospital.
It was a beautiful, warm, sunny spring morning and after checking in at the hospital we walked laps around the building until I felt like getting a snack. After eating and chatting with the midwife a bit, my contractions were intensifying to the point where I needed to be seated because I was falling asleep in between.
At eight centimeters, the midwife did several things to begin managing this birth. First, she broke my water. Second, pitocin was administered as my contractions were frequent and strong, but irregular. The pitocin made the baby's heart rate drop with the contractions so an internal monitor was placed. Finally, I was given a small dose of stadol to manage the pain. My birth plan stated that I didn't want any pain relief. I figured that I was able to essentially do it once without it, I could do it again. But she asked if I had changed my mind and at 8cm, I had very little backbone to stand upon my convictions.
It wasn't long before my first daughter was born and I was so thankful to be able to hold her and nurse her before she was taken away to be managed herself.
It was in general as good a hospital birth as I could possibly desire. Until my fifth child was born, I would have considered it picture perfect in fact!
{Baby #3 }
Two years and a week later, I woke up at 41 weeks pregnant shivering in bed with a fever. The day prior, I had been at the midwife for a routine examination where my membranes were stripped again. Immediately, something felt wrong. I was experiencing more than cramping. It was a painful sensitivity and I had gone to bed early feeling pretty lousy.
I did some natural things to try to manage the fever, but when I couldn't get it down, I was told to go to the hospital for an induction. At check-in, my dilation wasn't anything considerable and I was immediately hooked up to pitocin. I had intended to deliver this baby without any pain relief and had entered that on my birth plan. Feeling worn down and sick to boot, I was crying in pain. I was certain that the pitocin was so effective that I was well into transition when I was checked and reported to be a whopping two centimeters dilated. Two! Two cm! It felt more like eight! I'm a realist and threw in the towel, calling for the Stadol.
Then I waited...
and waited...
and waited...
and waited...
Finally, I was told it was on the way, that the nurse was getting it "right now." Meanwhile, the midwife decided to check me again. Four centimeters. Woo, hoo.(Did you catch the sarcasm?) My mental state was very bad- I had so much more ahead of me and I basically felt like I had been in hard labor for 6 hours - which is long for me- and I felt like I had the flu on top of it all!! But then she said things were stretchy, so she stretched and suddenly I was a nine!! I literally went from 4 to 9 cm in a matter of minutes. They prepped for delivery and by the time the nurse made it back with the stadol, I was delivering my second son which took all of a couple minutes.
Because of the fever, because I was GBS+, because of a fear of sepsis (due to the possibility of chorioamnionitis), I don't know. Take your pick I was told all three over the next couple days, there was suddenly a couple dozen people in the hospital room while the midwife left me two sheets to the wind while she waited for the placenta. It was mortifying, but my mental clarity wasn't what it could have been due to the fever, so my embarrassment is in retrospect. He was thoroughly examined and I was told that I could try to nurse him real quick, but then they had to take him to the NICU for a couple of days.
They were unable to get an IV in him, so they shaved what little hair was on his head and stuck the needle through his scalp and covered it with a little plastic cup so that he couldn't swat at it. I spent the next two days bothering the nursing staff in the NICU. They really wanted me to leave them alone. I requested that I nurse on demand and then they would go hours and hours without coming to get me (or all night!) and just said that he wasn't hungry! When I was in the room with him, the machines were constantly alarming that his stats were low and they would ignore them because they knew nothing was wrong except for overly sensitive machines. It was so nerve wracking and difficult for an emotional, irrational, postpartum mommy! When I was able to take him home, surrounded by visitors all taking turns rocking and holding my little man, I had to excuse myself for a bit of a breakdown. I felt as though I had barely held him since he had been born days earlier and I was jealous of sharing him with others!
He was a very good baby. So quiet, but a poor eater at first. We finally were able to get the hang of things though. The traumatic birth left him with torticollis that resulted in plagiocephaly which was thankfully resolved with excellent chiropractic care and massage therapy.
{Baby #4}
When I became pregnant with my fourth baby, I reluctantly returned to my midwife. I spent a lot of time after the birth believing that my fever was brought on because of an infection caused by the introduction of bacteria by being stripped. (And no, I hadn't necessary consented. It was an examination for dilation and then a "I'm going to strip you while I'm here.") But I knew that trying to find an OB wouldn't leave me any better off, so back I went. But I knew two things now: 1.) Pitocin is the devil and wouldn't be going into my veins again. and 2.) I didn't want to be stripped again. I just wanted to have a natural, body/baby/God-induced birth.
This pregnancy I was diagnosed with placenta previa. But I was told not to worry- she had never had a patient where it hadn't resolved itself prior to delivery. So I didn't. But as I approached my due date, my baby was in a transverse position and with much chiropractic care and maneuvering, we were able to get the baby oblique. (Her head seemed jambed in my hip socket.)
At my 41 week checkup I was told that "it was time to have this baby." And was sent to the hospital. I said that I'd rather not have pitocin again. "Just a bit to get things started" I was told. (Repeat scene. Repeat again.) I remember giving a pleading look at my husband who wasn't backing me and so I knew between her pushing and without his support, I caved. She had better pre-order the Stadol this time though.
On the drive to the hospital, I just couldn't imagine myself having the baby. It didn't seem as though it was really time. I had been through so much over the last few weeks as I struggled to get her into position. From the chiropractic adjustments and the supplemental work that my husband had been assigned by the chiropractor to do, to the spinning babies techniques, to even binding my rib cage to push her out of that space, I just couldn't wrap my mind around it finally being over. I knew that she still wasn't in the right position, so how could I give birth to her? I was gripped with fear and beginning to learn the lesson that as he thinketh in his heart so he is. (Proverbs 23:7) I feared I couldn't.
I checked in at 10 pm and was hooked up to the IV and pit drip. It did start out slowly enough. I saw from the monitor that I was having contractions and they weren't too painful for which I was grateful. Over the next couple hours, the nurse would keep coming back and kick the pit up a notch. The final time she returned, she turned it up more and within a few minutes I told her that I thought my water broke. I lifted my gown to find blood running down my leg instead.
My body's immediate response was to get weak and dizzy (blood does that to me, I feel so sorry for my poor children if they ever get truly injured). I got into bed and she checked me and pulled out a cupped hand full of blood. The resident was called in, checked me, and gave me an ultrasound where he found the placenta .5mm from my cervix! The midwife and her supporting physician arrived and I was prepped for a c-section while they argued about the location of my placenta. Never have I seen such denial. They both insisted on the accuracy of the ultrasound results from my last scan despite the evidence to the contrary!
I was shaking with fear and begging to be given general anesthesia which they wouldn't allow. I was taken in and
blah, blah, blah.
Sorry, I don't want to talk about it.
I made that decision three and a half years ago and I find it's the best way for me to cope with it. I know that for some women a c/s was no big deal, but I found it to be very traumatic.
I was thankful when I passed out during the operation because I knew that I would probably be able to avoid the urge I was having to throw up - which I didn't particularly want to do in front of my husband. When I woke up I was in recovery and it turns out had a lot to be thankful for. Not only was my daughter healthy, but my midwife had encouraged the doctor to keep trying to stop my uterus from bleeding when they couldn't get it stopped. She probably saved my uterus. Oh yeah, and the nurses tell me I have a beautiful scar for which I am to be thankful. (Credit: Midwife) I've never understand the oxymoron of having a beautiful scar.
I was anemic, my fingernails grew in funny, I looked the picture of death and I couldn't walk properly or function past 5 pm for six weeks. If I sat too long, I couldn't straighten up- it felt like I was stuck at the seam. The best part of my recovery was when the doctor went to remove my stitches and snipped the wrong spot and left them in. So I had to wait for them to work to the surface and pull the out myself. Bubbles and puppies and ice cream and warm sunny days. It was fun.
Or not. And certainly not a game I wanted to play again. Adjusting to life with a newborn and a whole passel of kids while recovering from normal childbirth is hard enough, but to do it while recovering from abdominal surgery... you won't see me raising my hand and volunteering any time soon.
{Baby #5}
I was told not to get pregnant for at least a year so that I would have proper time to heal. I knew that I wouldn't use birth control, so much prayer went into God perfectly timing the next baby and six weeks after her first birthday, I found that I was expecting again!
I was told not to get pregnant for at least a year so that I would have proper time to heal. I knew that I wouldn't use birth control, so much prayer went into God perfectly timing the next baby and six weeks after her first birthday, I found that I was expecting again!
I continued receiving care from the midwife who delivered my previous three children. At my 28 week appointment she casually asked me a question that would change the rest of my care. She inquired after the time frame that I typically gave birth. To which I replied that my babies had all been born during the 41st week. To which she said, "Well, we can't have that." She started talking about castor oil cocktails and what not. The reasoning behind the induction for women attempting a VBAC is that later babies, make bigger babies, and bigger babies increase the risk of a uterine rupture. My history of late deliveries with average sized babies didn't matter one bit.
As it turns out, in my state (because it varies by state, I've learned), a woman attempting a VBAC is only given a trial of labor. Then the insurance company dictates care down a checklist with the goal being to get the mother into the operating room. I wish I was making this up. Yes, there are some who make it through the checklist successfully, but I didn't want to risk it. I went home and explored my options.
A few weeks prior, I had watched a documentary over Netflix Watch Instantly called The Business of Being Born. My husband had balked at my selection, but I was ironing and wanted to watch something to make the time go by more quickly. Although he intended on falling asleep, he stayed up and watched the whole thing and by the end had said, "Too bad you're a VBAC or we could homebirth." So when my midwife and I had that conversation, I knew that was where I was being led.
I found a midwife, a CPM who had delivered all nine of her children at home and had attended over 3000 births including her own grandchildren. We met with her and loved her!
At 40 weeks, my entire little clan fell ill with a cold including me. I felt miserable and now I was going to have to give birth while I was sick. Poor, poor me, I lamented. What could be worse than coughing and sneezing your way through contractions?
It was fall and the days were getting chilly quickly. We wanted to utilize every available opportunity to dine outdoors and so one windy evening, we didn't let the weather deter us. It was terribly windy, the trees were swaying and we even heard some crash in the woods. It was no surprise to us when the power went out. It was a surprise when we awoke and it still wasn't on.
Flash forward a week, and I found myself living with my four children in my parents RV in my driveway and having periodic false starts at labor, but thankfully no longer ill. I had missed two appointments with my midwife who was also without power and I was convinced I was going to have my first homebirth baby the old fashioned way- by candlelight!!
Finally, the power was restored on Friday night. Saturday night I awoke with regular contractions and I tried to work them up into something by walking for half an hour outside (in the dark... with critters... moving around in the woods) and then sleeping for half an hour in shifts.
I saw Orion that night, or should I say morning as it was 4 am, for the first time of the year. (Irrelevant, but hey I remember it.)
The contractions eventually died away as the day dawned. I spent Sunday with irregular, but painful contractions with another sign of labor or two. I knew it was just a matter of time. My midwife said that mothers of many children often wait until the hustle and bustle of the day dies down before going into labor. I took a nap, but slept poorly. We went to my family's house for dinner, went home early, and I decided to go to bed. A couple hours later, I awoke, fully assured that it was time. It was my husband's bedtime and while he went to get some sleep, I went to the living room and paced while I watched the news and whatever trash comes on afterwards. My contractions were painful but irregular and I wasn't going to call and bother my midwife again until I was sure they weren't going away. After all, during each of my previous labors, I had been brainwashed into believing that if the contractions were irregular, they weren't real.
Finally at 2am, I woke my husband and consulted with him as to whether he thought I should call. They were closer, 2-4 minutes, but irregular. He said to and so I did. She said it was up to me if she should come now and I said that she probably should (she lived an hour away.) I took a shower while my husband tidied the house and prepared the supplies. After getting out of the shower, I knew it was time for me to start sleeping in between contractions so I sat in my glider to do so and listened to classical music on the radio.
My next and favorite memory of this birth was when I awoke to have a contraction. I was fully panicked about how far along I probably was. I suspected that it was nearly time, but I was trying to stay calm. The midwife was late, very late, and I had a more than sneaking suspicion that my poor innocent husband- who was trying to lighten the mood by riding the footstool bucking bronco style at the end of my bed to William Tell's Orchestra- was going to shortly be delivering his first baby. The midwife's location was assessed and I only had to wait maybe five minutes if she hurried. It turns out that she followed her GPS an hour south before realizing that my home wasn't in the middle of a cornfield and began to head in the right direction.
Within moments of her arrival, I was helped to the bed and she set up to deliver. Five minutes after walking through the door, my third little man was born!
I can't express how utterly relaxing it was to labor and deliver my baby in the comfort of my own home, with my other little ones sleeping in their beds upstairs. It was so nice not to have to worry about their arrangements while I was away at the hospital or the pitiable little expressions on their faces when they visited me in the terrifying hospital. It was joyous just to have them walk in when they awoke and there was their baby brother! Of course this doesn't even begin to take into account all of the administrative wrangling and management that goes on within the hospital setting. It never really was for us, I just never thought I'd have the courage to trust myself to labor at home.
So many aspects of the birthing process these days seems try to usurp the sovereignty of God from the situation as though He isn't in control of every detail. No matter how hard I tried to fight against the management, I just wasn't able to get enough control of the situation to allow myself to surrender entirely to His will for the births of my first four children.
During Benjamin's birth, I learned to trust solely upon my own instincts and the natural process of birth beautifully created by the Lord. It was quiet and peaceful enough that I could focus on Him and pray without near constant distraction. How wonderful it was to be able to glorify Him for the way that I was created during a time when I usually just focus on the way He fearfully and wonderfully made the children He was lending to us!
These last few days of this pregnancy are full of anticipation not only to meet this new little one, but also to see what lessons the Lord may have in store for me during the birth!
, 
22 comments:
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
You have beautiful babies! I love reading birth stories. Did you ever notice your girl's were 8 pounders while your boys were 7 pounders...just observed it. My daughter was 7.1 at 36 weeks and son was 9.2 at 38 weeks. My midwife told me if I'd gone full term they'd have been 10 lb babies...that's scary enough for me. They came early all by their self. In fact, my daughter is 4 and is still impatient. :)
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
I really enjoyed reading about your births, especially the last one! I'm so sorry that you went through some tramatic times, but rejoice with you that you have become confident enough to homebirth with the Lord's help! :) I decided a couple of month's ago that I was done with hospital births, too, after being jerked around at the beginning of this pregnancy.
I feel the EXACT same way about pitocin, and believe I've used those exact words with my husband, "pitocin is the devil". I won't get on my soapbox about it and the use of it with births leading to epidurals and more complications... ;)
Also, my first son was born naturally in the hospital with no pitocin or pain-relieving drugs and it was one of the BEST things I'd ever experienced! I wanted that with this baby, except without the hospital! I've found a wonderful midwife and things have been joyous so far.
I soooo look forward to reading about your homebirth with this little joy, and pray that your labor goes wonderfully! I'm so excited for you! :)
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
What a neat post, Mrs. Quinn. I enjoyed reading about each of your precious little blessings. Children are a wonderful gift from God... A true blessing for sure!
Thank you for sharing all the baby photos. What beautiful children you have!
May the Lord bless you and your family. I will continue to pray for your new little one, who should be coming anytime soon! :)
Many Blessings,
Jenna
P.S. I am so glad you received my letter.
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
This was so fun to read about! I also love to see your growth in this area! So inspiring! Your babies are so cute! Can't wait to see what this baby is!!!! Also, it is very encouraging to see you have gone so far over due and delivered safely! Waiting anxiously!!!!
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Thank you Candi! I can't imagine what it would be like to have a 10 lb. baby! But I know it can be done despite what the docs will tell you- my midwife delivered a lady last month who was big enough to drop your jaw. 11 lbs. 9oz!! Incidentally, we were able to network through the midwife and we purchased our barn's siding from that family. It was so funny to hear the father brag to my husband that his wife delivered a 12 lb. baby!
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Hi Kate! I'm so glad that things are going smoothly for you! It can be an anxious time when you make the transition from the hospital. Praying for your peace of mind when your time comes and that it all goes well for you! It's so exciting to see other women taking charge of and responsibility for their health and recognizing that childbirth isn't a disease or medical issue but a natural part of life!
LOL about the pitocin! It's an easy thing to get the soapbox about! Causes nothing but problems IMO. I'm sure there are cases where it is warranted, but more often than not they're just fitting you into the one size fits all maternity mold. For example, my cousin related to me the birth story of her friend who delivered a couple of weeks ago. First time mother (who they threatened with a c/s due to large baby at 37 weeks) whose water broke as a first labor sign. She went in with no contractions, they immediately hooked her up to pit, then came the epidural and she ended up with a c/s for failure to progress after 12 hours.
I've often contemplated getting into birth photography to help supplement my husband's income, but when it comes down to it, I wonder if I'd have a hard time being impartial ;D
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
I hope so Jenna! My husband went to work grumbling this morning because he had to go in :D
I feel like the proverbial watched pot that never boils!
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Glad you enjoyed reading it Tara- It was one of those posts where I wasn't sure how I felt about posting, but I did at the encouragement of my husband! :D
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Quinn, your cousin's friend's story sounds a lot like my first birth, except I was able to deliver vaginally! My first labor sign was my water breaking, followed by immediate pitocin in the hospital which kept getting bumped up until I was maxed out. Talk about MAJOR contractions on top of each other with no break. I wasn't progressing hardly at all, thanks to my body being way too tense to naturally work. I then needed Nubane and an epidural, not being able to go on after hours. :( Finally 18 hours after my water broke, my daughter was born. She stayed in the NICU for 6 days due to a little lazy breathing at first. Now, I can't help but wonder if it's due to the manner in which I was pumped full of drugs of all sorts, even though she was 36 weeks. (Not to mention how loopy and mental I felt after delivery... vomiting... shaking for 12 hours...) Sorry to include my long story, but I've been there, for sure!
My midwife says that women are TRULY heros who deliver naturally after having Pitocin! I agree! You're a hero for sure!! ;)
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Hi Quinn. What a great joy to read your birth stories. I know you recently read my birth story with Zion and the "diaster" that it was. I had my first homebirth (second birth) posted on my old blog and once I get the pictures off my old computer I will post it on my blog. But I did acutally end up giving birth to my daughter at home during a thunderstorm with no power in the summer (talk about hot) by kerosene lantern. : ) Thankfully the lights were on by the time she needed to stitch me up.
I pray that this birth is a blessing and pleasure. Looking forward to another testimony of God's goodness. It's so "funny" how He works in our lives.
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Just found your blog from a follower list on another blog. Wishing you the best on your delivery! Your babies are beautiful! Can't wait to see the new one! Blessings!
at: Monday, May 10, 2010 said...
Thank you for sharing your birth stories...we have a few parts in common ~ I love homebirthing, but must say I can't ever seem to sleep through my contractions (I have enough trouble sleeping under normal circumstances). :-)
Praying and waiting for this next little one to arrive in GOD's PERFECT timing.
Blessings ~
at: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 said...
Emily,
I always thought that it would have made an even better story! But being a first homebirth, I would have been pretty scared I imagine :D My midwife delivers a lot of Amish women and pointed out to me that it really isn't a big deal after all, she does it all of the time! I never thought of it like that.
Looking forward to reading your post.
at: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 said...
Hi Eden! Thank you very much! I went and read you're profile and I found it very interesting! I LOVE that you're interested in midwifery! :D
at: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 said...
@ Seasons,
I don't so much sleep through the contractions as pass out in between them. I was trying to walk through the last labor and found myself getting dizzy and losing my balance so I end up sitting down to pass out during transition.
It's funny you mentioned the sleeping. (As with my last baby during 40th week) I've started into painful night time prodromal labor that goes away upon rising.
I realized last night that I'm afraid of the pain this time for some reason and also of losing sleep! I've been so paranoid and obsessed with getting to sleep this whole pregnancy instead of fighting with restless leg syndrome for 3 hours first that it's carrying over into labor. I feel so much more optimistic in the morning! But that's not when things are happening. It's quite bizarre, I've never had a problem with this before!
Sorry for rambling :D I was hoping it would help me work through it a bit!
at: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 said...
Thank you for sharing your stories! I have had three hospital births with epidurals, and every time I thought more "what am I doing here?" For #4 (who hasn't been conceived yet, lol) I want to try a home birth with a midwife. I look forward to not being bossed around by nurses who look too young to have any children of their own! :)
at: Tuesday, May 11, 2010 said...
Praying for you in your delivery, that it may be calm and full of praise in a God who has made us fearfully and wonderfully...
reading your birth stories was wonderful, I most relate with your 4th birth and I hate hospitals!
at: Friday, May 14, 2010 said...
I must say I was quite surprised by many things in this post. Once again I have found myself assumming things and realizing the "real" picture is different. First of all, after saying that I have to say that I love this post! I was just so surprised at my own stupidity...LOL! I think I had the idea that you had had all natural births with no drugs and at home... blah, blah, blah perfection..... I know I have shared my own birth stories (short version... 4 C's) and the desire to have natural births. I just did not realize you had been through the pitocin, cervadil, drugs, bull that we all get sucked into believing is what we must do. Truly, I am glad you posted this because I am really struggling with the thoughts in my head lately. I want to leave our family planning in God's hands, but I am so AFRAID of a FIFTH c-Section and so AFRAID of trying a natural labor and something going wrong. My body is messed up from all the surgeries. I know it is. I also know that my body is still made to birth babies and God designed it, but I can not shake the fear. So, basically I am frightened at the idea of concieving or even participating in acts that would lead up to conceiving (too much info... sorry). I need to hear stories like this to get me over it!!! I don't know if there are more babies in my future, but if there ever is this is what I am going to need to encourage me. I will need this type of assurance that my body, like yours, would know just what to do, if left to try it.
And also, you crack me up! I love your spunk and sense of humor. I am like that a lot myself (my hubby does not always appreciate my humor I must say). One more thing... I love that you shocked right from the beginning with admitting that you did not always believe in a Creator. An evolutionsist! Wow! Cracks me up! I was not raised in a Christian home and my beliefs were all over the place and totally confusing and chaotic. After getting out on my own and some poor choices I had to start searching out what I truly believed in. At nineteen I met my husband and we began dating and attending a church together. I was not very trusting, but finally it all starting getting through to me. That being said I still tried to be in control of everything... 10 years of birth control, etc. It was not until I was pregnant with my first child that I truly started dealing with my "issues" and really understanding the miracle of creation. Something about knowing God is using your body to make bones and a heart and a brain and a spine and all those other little things is a bit of an eye opener. I have never gone back on birth control. I admit I have considered some options, but have never been able to allow myself to use any form of "birth control". I have used the ovulation method to be "careful"... which I am ashamed to admit sometimes. And now that is where I am, again.... FEAR has me on this one. FEAR of another surgery and I am no spring chicken after six pregnancies (4 live births)in under 10 years and being almost 38 years old now.
Anyway, thanks for sharing and I can't wait to hear about your latest birth story!!! Maybe you are in labor now! ???? Come on, that baby has got to be ready wouldn't you say?! Blessings to you and I hope you have a peaceful easy birth.
at: Sunday, May 16, 2010 said...
Shannon,
I'm so glad to see that posting this was an encouragement to you! I really hesitated to post it for some reason, but my husband said to go for it and I did. I was hoping that by posting it clarified my history because I used to think that women who home birthed were "crazy." At the very least, that it was nothing that I could ever do! But like you, I was terrified of another c/s. Having done it both ways, I knew that recovery was nothing anyone was going to force me through for no good reason.
Anyway, the evolutionist business is obviously nothing I'm proud of, but I can't separate the way God used the birth of my first son to draw me to Him from the birth story. It's too integral a part of it. And to my shame, I wasn't even just a Christian evolutionist (if there is truly such a thing- I know there are those that claim it, but I don't see how one can be a Christian and deny the very first words of God in the Bible) but I was an admitted atheist and would give my church attending peers a hard time about the silliness of their beliefs. Psalm 25 is my favorite in part because of vs. 7: Remember not the sins of my youth, nor my transgressions: according to thy mercy remember thou me for thy goodness' sake, O LORD.
I smiled when I read the "maybe you're in labor now" part yesterday morning. I woke yesterday with contractions that lasted all day, so I thought I was too. I even went to bed last night telling the kids they could expect a surprise this morning. But within a short time, they died away and I had to disappoint them this morning when they found me empty handed and full bellied. Now I'm doing nothing at all and am just hoping that it is sometime this week!!
I'll post as soon as I can after the birth. I won't be a bum blogger that signs on and says, Oh yeah I had a baby 4 days ago
at: Saturday, May 22, 2010 said...
Quinn, thank you so much for sharing your birth stories with us. I always love to hear how a woman has been "converted" to homebirthing. :)
I've been a "crazy" woman since before even meeting my husband. I became interested in midwifery and homebirth sometime after (homeschool) high school and before meeting my husband. The Lord gave me a dairy farmer for a husband and having seen, and occasionally assisted, his own cows during delivery he didn't even bat an eye when I said I wanted to have our own babies at home. Our first child wasn't born until after we'd been married for 2 years. We really liked our midwife during the pregnancy but she (and her assistant) left a lot to be desired during labor and delivery. The Lord blessed us with another pregnancy just 10 months after our oldest was born. I began looking for a new midwife right away. The Lord led us to the midwife we would use for the next three babies. We ended up moving to another area of our state and have now had to find yet another midwife and currently she's now the only one who had legally practice in our state! (The other midwives lost their back-up doctor because his malpractice insurer said they would no longer insure him if he continued to support and back homebirth midwives. :( ) Anyway, I believe beyond the shadow of a doubt that I'd have been pressured into c-sections with each of my labors because of "failure to progress". I, too, never have regular contractions but in the end I (my body) get(s) the job done! My labors are long and I often "hang out" at one place without dilating for quite awhile. I'm a little anxious about laboring again as my last 3 babies were posterior and this one has been for the last month, too. But more than anything I'm just so excited to meet this precious little one!
Sorry for the long post but I just love hearing from other homebirthing mamas! And I guess I like to share, too. :)
at: Thursday, June 03, 2010 said...
What a wonderful happy ending! Isn't it so beautiful to look back over the tapestry of life and see the hand of God at work? As much awfulness and trauma as you went through, it has led you to where you are and given you an understanding you did not have before and can now use to help others.
I'm on a journey myself. It hasn't been as long as yours yet, but I can feel a pull toward certain things that started in me as a child and my dear Creator is still leading me through. I thought I'd reached the end of one particular journey, but He isn't done with me yet! I know that now. ;)
at: Monday, November 14, 2011 said...
Thank you so much for your birth stories! Home birth is an amazing experience and it is always nice to find others who feel the same way about it. I never knew truely how strong I was until the birth of my son (baby #3) who was my first home birth. While he was my longest birth (12 hours of hard labor) he was also Gods word to me that with Him I could do all things through Him. Naturally when I found out that I was pregnant with my daughter (who is now 9 weeks) I knew that I would be delivering at home. It was a glorious and beautiful delivery with 5 days of very light early labor and 3 hours of heavy labor. Before we knew it the midwife was handing us our beautiful 8lb 10oz Emma. Birth is a wonderful gift from God and he has enabled us to experience this gift. I think we should embrace and experience it the way it was intended. May God bless you and keep you and be your strength. Much love from one home birth mom to another!
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