At long last, the birth blog. I might as well start off with the obligatory warning: DO NOT READ this blog if you do not want to read any gory details about birth and things related. I'm going to try to keep it as tasteful as I can, but there is only so much I can do with writing about a person coming out of my body. Sorry.
So if you have followed any of my postings, or talked to me, or just heard it through the grapevine in general, Trevor and I had decided to have our baby at home. It was a decision that we both agreed was best for us, and I am so happy we did. After we decided that, we went along and found our nurse-midwife, Margaret, whom is fantastic. I highly recommend her if anyone is looking for a midwife in the Spokane area.
Thursday (3/7) afternoon was when I first started noticing contractions. I had had many Braxton Hicks contractions, and I knew these were different. From earlier conversations with Margaret, we decided to just go about our night as usual, and to try to get some sleep while I still could.
Friday morning came, with a small increase in the strength of the contractions, so we texted Margaret that baby time should be approaching soon and went about our day. Fast forward to late afternoon, and the contractions had actually backed off. I had spent the entire day walking and pacing to try to pick things up, and understandably, I called Margaret frustrated. She was in the area and decided to come by and check up on me. When she arrived she had checked my dilation, and I was still at 3 cm (not far along, I had been at 3 for a few days). We discussed what could be happening, and the subject came up about an issue (saving you readers some unnecessary details) I was having, that was unrelated (or so I thought) to labor. She had explained that actually the issue I was having, could be causing the holdup in my labor, and so she had suggested that we fix the problem, and see what happens after. Evening now on Friday (3/8), and I had just fixed the issue I was having. Not 5 minutes had passed when a strong contraction came on. They had now started coming every 11 min. and were getting strong. Margaret had another client at 8 cm, and was hesitant to leave her as she was showing signs of birthing soon. She had her assistant Pam come and sit with us and report to her periodically as I was progressing. At this point my mother, Trevor, and Pam are all at my house, watching tv. Contractions are quickly becoming very painful, and closer in time.
Sidenote: Contractions suck. I'll give you a moment to finish chuckling. Yes, they hurt. At one point, I was on the ground, banging the floor. I'm sure it looked quite terrible. AND, they were only getting worse and closer together. Ugh.
Trevor had suggested I get in the shower, and I agreed. The hot water helped, and I was really able to start concentrating on what was happening. Pam had been texting Margaret and had suggested she come back over, as it was looking like I was going to progress farther than her other client. Margaret had arrived and let me know she was going to stay, and that I was doing well. We had a birth pool set up, and I decided to get in. I spent most of the next 3 hours or so in the tub. The warm water really did help, and I do highly suggest using a pool if possible. Trevor was supporting me from the outside, holding me up. (I give huge props to my husband, who spent hours holding me up from an awkward angle, and didn't complain once. He later told me his back was pretty much dead, and his arms sore, but he still did whatever I needed him to do) I spent those hours with my eyes closed, and concentrating on nothing but what my body was doing. With each contraction I exhaled slowly while counting in my head. For me, when I am in pain, it helps to count slowly, and it distracts me. The months leading up to this, I repeat the same thing in my head and out loud several times a day: "I will have a safe, healthy, short birth. I know I will have pain, but I will not suffer. My baby will be born happy and healthy". That, and imagining the first time I would hold my baby, is what got me through the next few hours. The moment I realized that my body was about to push on its own accord, I will say I got nervous. I said "I have to push" and in the pool I did have my first bear down. Not too long after, it was suggested that I get out of the pool, as the water was becoming unsanitary to have a birth in, although the decision was left to me. I decided I wanted to go on my bed, and with that, I stepped out of the tub, got immediately wrapped in warm towels, and was escorted to our bed.
At this point it's roughly 4am...ish, and I am in the bed, pushing. Pushing hard. And it hurts. Hurts bad. I knew it would, and I was prepared for it, but shoot dang. Ouch. Later I used an analogy about what it feels like to push a baby out, but it's a little too descriptive, so if you want to hear what I said, you can ask me personally. With each push I kept telling myself, "just a couple more Kirsten, and you will get to hold your baby". I'm actually pretty proud of myself, I only uttered one swear word during the whole process. Anyway, at one point I decided to switch positions, into a side lying position. After one good long push, we realized that my water had never broken, because I was actually birthing the amniotic sac (we had originally thought it broke in the pool). Margaret had me stop pushing as long as I could, so she could open the sac. After another push, her head was born, and the sac was removed from her face. One more push and at 4:32am she was completely born. I went from 3cm dilated to a baby in 4.5 hours. For those who don't know, that's crazy, crazy fast. Margaret handed her to me, and she was placed on my abdomen because her cord was short. Trevor was able to cut the cord once it had stopped pulsating, and she was brought closer to me. After all the pushing and pain I was finally holding my baby. She didn't cry, she just looked at me, and in that moment, I felt so content. I knew her, and she knew me, and that's all we needed to care about.
After about five minutes she started rooting, and so we got her to latch for her first time. We spent some time in the bed, just laying together, the three of us. It's all a bit hazy, but sometime after an hour or so, she was taken to get cleaned off, measured and weighed. Trevor helped me with my pajamas (the bed was clean almost immediately after the birth, it was quite efficient), and she was brought back to me, where the three of us spent time together, just getting to know each other, her in her new world, us in our new roles as parents.
I can honestly say I am so, so happy with my birth experience. I wouldn't change one minute. The choice to birth at home with a Nurse Midwife was the best choice for us, and it went fantastic. I truly believe I was able to concentrate fully on my experience because I was in my own home, in my own clothes, not hooked up to any machines, with only people I knew around me. I feel so sorry for mothers who are disappointed in their birthing experiences, and I feel lucky to have exactly what I hoped for. I do honestly believe that the positive mantra I repeated daily, and the preparation of pain really made a difference. I knew it was going to hurt, it's the only thing I could be sure of, and oddly, it was comforting. There is a difference between pain and suffering, and because I was prepared for it, I didn't suffer. I knew there was an end result that made all the pain worth it, and I was able to focus on that.
I need to take a minute to express my thanks to Margaret. Without her, I wouldn't have had half the amazing experience that I did, and I am so happy she gave us the birth we wanted. She was with us from the very beginning, with answers to my never-ending slew of questions. She was never more than a phone call or text away, and that was incredibly comforting. I knew I didn't want an OB that I would have to schedule an appointment with anytime I had a question. The level of personalization and closeness is incomparable to an OB. My baby was delivered by not just my midwife, but my friend. Thank you Margaret, I will forever feel blessed to have had you as a care provider.
Now, I have a daughter that is almost 10 weeks (2.5 months), and each day has its own joys and set backs. I ask God for patience every day when times are tough, and thank Him every night for the blessing he has given us. We're just figuring this whole parenting thing out, and there isn't anything else I would rather be doing.
