When Brittany emailed me her birth story she said it was ‘nothing special’ and ‘just a run of the mill birth’. I completely disagree. Her birth experience is intense, empowering, funny, painful and funny. It is a GREAT birth story and I am grateful she has shared it with us! ~Mrs. BWF
The day of Feb 20th, was like any other day when you’re at the end of your last trimester. A friend was in town visiting with her two kids and we’re playing with our new Kinect and the kids are having a ball. We’re laughing hysterically at my husband dancing to the pop song on the TV.
About 10pm we all decide to hit the hay as it’s been a very long day with 4 kids between us. Hubby and I crawl into bed and he wraps his arms around me. I have this odd feeling. I’m not sure what it is, but something is kind of off. [I’ll insert here that we are very strong Christians]. I want to have sex as much as any woman at 37 weeks pregnant does…. solely to get things moving. My previous children were born at 38w 3d and 38w 2d.
My husband kisses me gently and I tell him to stop and I start bawling. He doesn’t know what is wrong or what he has done. I explain that we cannot have sex. Not yet. I go on to explain that God is telling me we need to get some things straight in our relationship and family before the baby arrives. I tell him if we have sex, I WILL go in to labor and we cannot bring a baby into our lives when we are not where we need to be spiritually. We talk about needing to pray more as a couple and as a family, about how we need to be stronger examples in our children’s lives, and how we need to raise them as warriors in Christ.
At this point we’re both weeping. Realizing all of our short comings as parents. It’s heart breaking, but we know what we need to do and how we need to fix. God is good and our bond grew a little bit more. We then proceed to have ::achem:: sexy times. As usual at the end of my pregnancies, I was having some contractions after sex. I get up and brush my teeth knowing they will die down in an hour or two, as always.
I was waking up to contractions a few times during the night, but not looking at a clock at first. After a while I looked at my phone when I could consciously wake up enough during the contractions to do so. They seemed to be about 20 minutes apart. At about 4am I give in and get out of bed, because I’m obviously not going to sleep tonight. I mess with my hair in the mirror and have a contraction and then I use the bathroom and there is another. I get into the bath tub like I do many nights when I cannot sleep. I’m reading ‘Secrets of The Secret Place’ and timing the contractions. They now are about 5 minutes apart. I’m thinking to myself, “This isn’t real. It’s just Braxton Hicks.”
I eventually suck it up and call my midwife around 5 to let her know my contractions are every 5 minutes and tell her when my other midwife checked me a few days earlier I was 4cm and 90% effaced. She tells me to keep timing them and to meet her at at birth center at 6:45ish.
At this point my husband is still asleep and has no idea I am in early labor. He wakes up to me asking for my swiss ball to lean on. He goes down stairs and grabs it and brings it back to me. We’re slowly figuring out what to do, and when to call the sitter. I finally call our sitter/dear friend around 6 and tell her that I’m in labor, going to the birth center and ask her to come grab the kids. She lets out an excited squeal and says she’ll be over in a half hour. We go downstairs to start getting the kids things together, trying not to wake our out of town company. But, alas, she stumbles down stairs a few minutes later wondering whats going on. We’re all laughing and joking and in disbelief that I’m in labor at 37w (exactly).
I call my mom and tell her what’s going on and she says to keep her updated. The contractions seem to be getting closer together. We’re timing them and they’re now 2-3 minutes apart. I’m leaning over my swiss ball on my knees to help with the pain. It’s working nicely. Our sitter shows up and we hug the kids goodbye and tell them they will have a new baby sister soon.
Our out of town company is now about to be left at our house while I’m in labor. and she says she doesn’t mind. She actually cleaned the house while I was in labor. She eventually let herself out later that day and drove home.
As we’re pulling out of the driveway I yell “STOP! GO. GET. THE. LAPTOP!” I wanted the music I had chosen, but I didn’t burn a CD yet, so I made him grab the whole computer.
We get to the birth center around 7am and I’m bummed because the whole 15 minute car ride, I did not have one contraction. I turn to him and say, “It stopped, I’m not in labor. The midwife is gonna be annoyed with me”. He assures me she will not as we pull in to the center. I step out of the car and BAM!…. contraction. I quickly claim that I’m glad I did not have any of those in the car as I waddle hand in hand with my husband inside.
We’re greeted by Leslie, one of the midwives in the practice. I don’t remember what all was said, but she asked me how close the contractions were and said she wanted to check me. At this point I am 6cm and a +1 station. Her eyes get big and she tells me, “I was banking on you not making it through the weekend”. (This is on a Monday morning). Leslie tells me I need to get GBS meds and I tell her I have rolling veins. She explains she is gonna numb my arm, so that if she has to stick me more than once, I won’t feel it. Well, I’m VERY thankful I was numb, because she ended up sticking me somewhere between 6 and 8 times. I laugh and tell her, “I told you so”.
My contractions are now about 6 minutes apart. We discuss the fact that the medicine needs about 3 hours to get into my system and I climb in the tub to slow labor down. My contractions immediately go to 20 and 30 minutes apart. Awesome, it worked…and I DO NOT mind. This tub was ginormous and felt so amazing. I floated around for a few hours and in that time frame entered Deb, a midwife in training who was working with Leslie at the time. She was super sweet and made us laugh.
So I’ve been in the tub for a few hours and I get out to get my second dose of GBS meds. Got ’em. Now it’s time to get this show on the road. I’m ready and pumped for this baby to come.
We’re hanging out, but my contractions are staying about 10 minutes apart. Leslie suggests we walk around the parking lot. It’s a beautiful,warm (we lived in SC), sunny day. So we’re happy to do so. We’re taking laps around the parking lot oogling at Leslie’s Mercedes-Benz and plotting on how we will steal it after the baby is born. Leslie brings me out this disgusting concoction of maple syrup scented, vomit shot. I’m not sure what it was, but she said it would help. OOOOKAY! I downed it and made hubby do one with me. Lol.
As we’re circling the parking lot we start talking about the baby’s name. We know her name will be Amelia which means ‘Work of the Lord’ in Hebrew. But now we are questioning her middle name. We had planned on using Ray, which is my husbands middle name. It didn’t feel right anymore. So what now? We both knew… it was ‘Lane’. Lane is not only my husbands, brother’s middle name, but the middle name of his uncle who was killed in the ’83 Beirut bombing. That was it. ‘Amelia Lane’. We loved it. And we loved her, already.
We walked for probably 45 minutes or so and with every contraction, I stop and wrapped my arms around my husband’s shoulders and swayed my hips from side to side. It felt like we were dancing. My contractions are now about 5-6 minutes apart. We go inside and I drink some Gatorade. (On that note, some point in the tub earlier that day, hubby had ran and got me a bagel and cream cheese…. yum). We’re sitting around like, ‘What now?’. It seems labor is kind of stalling.
Another midwife from the practice pokes her head in to say hello and tells me, “play with them nips!”. AH HA! Why didn’t I think of that?! I explain nipple stimulation to my husband and he giggles and was like “OK!” I could tell he didn’t think it would work, but come on…what man is gonna say no to fondling his wife’s boobs? That’s what I thought. Anyways, almost instantly my contractions go to 3 minutes apart. They’re now lasting about a minute and I’m having to focus to breath through them. I can still crack a smile, but they’re definitely getting more intense.
The midwife may have checked me somewhere in here, but I’m not exactly sure. We’re now on the bed talking and joking with Deb as she gets the baby’s heart rate. Sounding good! I get up from the bed and a MAJOR contraction hits. I grab the pole on the foot board and cannot talk through it. I focus on my breathing and sway my hips. I know it’s getting close. I know this is the beginning of transition. I believe I said something along the lines of, “Oh this is gonna be fun. THIS is what we call transition.”
I get back in to the tub at this point and a lot of it’s a blur from here on out. I’m definitely in transition. The contractions are so intense and I go inside myself. The rest of the world fades away, and I cannot seem to keep any composure to my thoughts except to cry out to God and ask Him to take the pain. I think about Bellam my beautiful 19 month old daughter at home and realize I would go through this EVERY DAMN DAY for her. I assure myself this baby will be worth it too.
The midwife at some point tells my husband he needs to get into his bathing suit because he needs to get in the tub. I’m getting close. He sits on the step in the tub and I bury my head into his chest dealing with the pain the best I could. At one point, I am floating on my side through the contractions and I cannot believe the pain I am now feeling in my back. It has come out of no where. I recognize this pain. It’s my SI joint and it wants to torture me now. I’m dealing with these last final minutes to labor and the room is silent. I look up to see one of the midwives (the one who poked her head in earlier and suggested nipple stimulation) and she had died her hair red/pink. She said she WANTED to stay, but her husband was out of town and she had to feed the cats. (She was later upset to find out I delivered 15min after she left).
I’m there…it’s go time and my back is RAGING. I tell Leslie, “I think I need to push.” She looks at Deb and says, “When a 3rd time mother tells you she needs to push, you’d better put your gloves on.” I start to push with a contraction but all I can feel is my back hurting. I’m trying to push, but I’m focusing on my breathing and nothing seems to be happening. Leslie tells me ,“Stop breathing and push!” It was like a light bulb. I was like… ‘Oh! OK!’ NOW it was happening. But the pain in my back while pushing was unbearable. I yelled out “EEEEEFFFFFFFFFFFFF!” I’m assured by my midwives that they’ve heard it all and I let out a “F#%!” Ahh…. that feels better. I’m realizing now that to push this baby out I’m going to have to consciously feel like a Velociraptor is ripping my back open. But it is now deal with the pain of pushing or the pain/pressure of a crowning baby. I choose to push.
I’m on my knees with my arms alternating between my husband’s waist and neck now. I push once and look up at my husband in tears and say. “I can’t do this”. We all get there. That feeling of utter helplessness, where we’re done. I don’t want to do this. I want to go home. He assures me I can and that he loves me. I push again and the back pain is so intense I look to my husband once again and I say, “Pray for me.” He does right then and there, he prays over me. While I will never know or remember what exact words he said, I remember thinking how lucky I was to have an amazing husband and Heavenly Father who loved me so much.
I PUSH and I get relief! OMGosh! She’s out! But all I hear is, “Put your butt down. Put it down.” Apparently, as soon as I had some relief my legs decided to stand up. Well you can’t take the baby out of the water and then put her back in, so they’re doing all they can to keep my rear end in the water. I hear someone say I need to push again. I’m like, “What? She’s not out?!”
Oy! I still have to deliver her shoulders. One more push and I KNEW she was here. Deb unwraps the cord from little Amelia’s neck (it was wrapped twice) and passes her through my legs to Daddy. He grabs her, his gentle hands completely engulfing her tiny body. He hands her to me. We sit in awe and all I can say is ,“Hi, Angel”. There she was. Our amazing little miracle. A piece of him and a piece of me and 100% God breathed. She was perfect.
While I’m holding her and weeping, I say, “I’m so glad!” Everyone in the room (the 2 midwives and I think an assistant or two) say “Awwww”. Then I finish with, “I’m so glad it’s over!” Everyone chuckles and then goes back to oogling over this teeny tiny baby. After the cord stops pulsing, Daddy cuts it and Leslie takes the baby to weigh her so I can get out of the tub.
I can barely stand. I hadn’t thought this through. Stepping OVER the side of this giant tub with these wobbly, just gave birth legs?! THAT was fun.Hubby and Deb were there to help. I waddle over to the bed and lay down. Leslie brings me my new baby girl and lays her on my chest. We are both in THE most amazing euphoric state I could ever imagine. It is pure bliss. A slice of heaven itself. How wonderful she is and grateful I am for what I have just experienced. I lay in the bed, in a birth high coma, quite exhausted. Wrapped in heated blankets with a baby on my chest. IT DOESN’T GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT!
Daddy changes his clothes and climbs into bed to cuddle. We’re smiling and staring at out newest tiny baby. She’s here. We cannot believe it and we could not be more thrilled. We call our family to tell them the news and thank our midwives. What an amazing birth. It was better than I hoped for and more than I could have ever dreamed of.
February 21, 2011, 5:26pm