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Muneera's Home VBAC

12/9/2014

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Muneera is a Certified Doula (ICTC), Childbirth Educator and WOMB SAUNA™ practitioner

*I VBAC'd previously at a birth center with my daughter, but this was a home birth and my MOST empowering birth yet!*
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So here I am, pregnant with my third child. All of my children are almost exactly 8 years apart..NOT PLANNED! I would have liked to have them closer but it just didn't happen for me. My first son was a C-section without a trial of labor (he was supposedly between 10-13 lbs, but was born 8lbs 9oz!), my daughter was a 3-day, marathon, prodromal VBAC in a birth center that was great. My second son and third child was a water birth at home and here is his story...

This was my most intentional birth. I had been a doula for six years at this point. I had been in most every local hospital and birth center and realized that I really did not want to be bothered with anyone's protocol and I just wanted to be able to completely trust my own instincts and birth the way I wanted. If I could have had my choice, I would have birthed without labor support-but I didn't want to do that to my husband. So I carefully chose who I wanted in my space during my birthing process. They were all people that I knew and trusted to honor my birth wishes.

I was officially a week and a day past my "due date," I was impatient to see my son, but my other children all went past the 41 week mark so I was not surprised. I had done a self-check (all women should know how to check themselves!) the day before and was pretty sure that I was a few cm dilated as I could fit a few fingers in my cervix. I had gotten up around 3 AM as had become my habit and I went into our prayer room to pray and ask for guidance on things. The middle of the night is one of my favorite times to commune with God. I asked God for patience in waiting for my son whose body I was just CRAVING to hold. I asked him if I had a long wait until I could see my baby and then I opened my Quran randomly and read the following passage...

"Verily, the knowledge of the Hour is with Allah (alone). It is He who sends down rain, and He who knows what is in the wombs. Nor does anyone know what it is that he will earn on the morrow, nor does anyone know in what land he is to die. Verily, with Allah is full knowledge and He is acquainted (with all things)." 32:34

Well, I figured this was God's way of telling me that I had to be patient and wait a little longer so I resigned myself that I wasn't going to worry and I was just going to wait. One of the problems with being a birth worker, is that sometimes you know too much. I had been randomly thinking of all the ways I knew to bring on labor but also quickly remembered that even "natural" induction has it's consequences. I was determined to wait until my baby let me know that he was ready...

As I got the rest of my family up for morning prayers, I realized that I felt a little "juicier" than usual and chalked it up to my body gearing up for birth at some point in the future. As we were waiting on my eldest son (as always!) I felt a small gush and thought that I had some discharge. So I went into the bathroom, cleaned up and re-did my abolutions for prayers. We finally we able to begin prayer! I was sitting in a chair in our prayer room and as I was bending over, I felt a another larger gush. I froze.  My thoughts began to race...Did I pee on myself? Was that more discharge? Now I have to make abolution all over again.... I have to wait on everyone else to finish...etc. etc.

My husband finished up prayer and my kids left to room. As my husband turned to leave I told him, "Uh, I don't know if my water broke or if I peed on myself..." I stood up and there was a large round wet spot on the chair's cushion. I leaned over and smelled it and it smelled like nothing. I told my husband that I was pretty sure my water broke and I was going to check in the bathroom. As I stood and walked to the bathroom, I felt a HUGE gush of water that streamed down my legs and I hobbled down into the bathroom. (I swear I hate that feeling more than actual contractions!)

So as I'm cleaning, I smell that amniotic fluid smell that I am REALLY familiar with and knew that my surges would begin soon. I started mentally bracing myself because I knew that when your water breaks early, that your contractions are more intense, but usually your labor is shorter because there is no cushion between your cervix and the baby's head. Then I had to tell myself to get out of my own head and to just go with the flow. Mentally, I had prepared myself for a looong labor. My daughter's was 3 days long and I told myself that this one was probably going to be half that time... HAH!

So I text my team and decide that I need to eat and get some rest before things start to kick in. My husband in the time it has taken me to clean up and change has gotten completely dressed (down to his shoes), started breakfast and was double-checking the birth tub set-up in the living room. (My husband is an eagle scout, he really can't help himself...) I told him to chill out, there were no surges yet and I wanted my daughter to stay home from school because we had already decided that she was going to be present during labor and birth.

I proceeded to make sure that I ate a big bowl of oatmeal with lots of honey and then waited... My sister came by to check on me around 12, contractions had slowly started but they were still 15-20 minutes apart and fairly mild. I told her to go about her business and I would let her know if things picked up... I tried to take a few short naps but I was too excited and kept getting up to do one thing or another...

Things began to pick up around 1 and by 2:30 when my sister called to check on me I was in the shower and yelling at my husband to leave the room while he was talking on the phone. She knew it was time to come and check on me. The shower made the surges bearable-but they were really picking up (darn early water break!). My hubby brought me one of my birth balls and it felt good to sit in the tub with the water falling on my belly. Then I started to worry about our birth tub. My husband had stopped filling it up because I wanted to get in the shower and he was filling it from the shower head. I also didn't want to use up all of our hot water and then have to wait for the tub so I got out...

I decided to use my other birth ball in the living room while my husband finished filling up the tub. Let me take a pause from this story to talk about this amazing tub... It was huge, it was spacious (I'm not a tiny woman by any means), I had great freedom of movement and I LOVED those handles when it was time to push. The only thing I didn't like was the little seat. My bottom was too big to sit comfortably, I am not a small woman by any means and have a nice set of sista hips on me... I imagine it would be nice if I was smaller though. Anyway, back to the story... so I am starting to vocalize with my surges and I am really surprised at how intense they are starting to feel but I still feel I have a long way to go. My sister gets here sometime after 3 and things start really picking up.  I'm in hands and knees on the birth ball, my sister is massaging me and my husband is coordinating setting everything up. At some point my dad comes in to drop off my oldest son and I vaguely remember telling him to shutup and get out because he's blathering on to my husband about a hammer and a drill. I felt bad about that...I'd never told my dad to shutup in my life. I think he was surprised as well...lol

After that, I really retreat into what I call my "birth space." I am aware of everything going on but it's almost as if I am in a slightly different reality where everything moves slower and looks a little hazy. Next thing I know it's dark, I'm in the tub and the midwifery assistant has shown up. My midwife is on her way and her backup is on her way as well. The midwifery assistant asks me how I feel and I tell her "grunty and pushy."  I was scared that I was feeling like pushing way to early. I kept thinking that my labor was going to last longer.

My memory became like snapshots in time. My daughter is there... my husband is rubbing my back...I feel like punching something...voices are annoying...people talk waaay too much...why is there such little space between my surges??? The water is my friend...but I have to poop so bad...I want the toilet but I don't want to get out my comforting water cocoon...

I snap out my alternate reality enough to tell the midwifery assistant that I really have to poop and want to go to the bathroom. She assures me that I can poop in the water and they will just scoop it out for me. (insert record scratch here) I am NOT pooping in this water that I am sitting in. Now, I have seen and assured several women that pooping is normal during birth-but I knew that I wanted my poop in a toilet, not in my birth water. So I haul myself out the toilet and waddle my way to the bathroom. It felt so good sitting on that toilet. I felt that I could completely relax my bottom and whatever came out, the toilet could catch. At this point my surges are coming every few minutes and I am being held by my daughter, my husband and my sister as I feel like I am passing the largest poop of my life...but man it feels great!

The backup midwife is there at this point and tells me that she needs to check to make sure that she can't see the baby's head or I am going to have to move because my bathroom is too small for me to birth. Hah! I thought to myself, I have a long way to go, this baby is not coming anytime soon. I'm just going to chill on this toilet, keep my rhythm and keep plugging through. So with the next push, the midwife shined her flashlight and told me that she could see my baby's head. WHAT??? Part of me thought she was just lying to me to get me out of the bathroom so I told them that I would move after the next contraction. So after two contractions when I STILL did not move (it was such a great position for me!). My sister was like LOOK, you HAVE to move! So I begrudgingly made my way back to the tub.

Once I got in the tub, within a few more surges I could feel my son on my perineum. My husband had gotten in the tub with me and was applying an amazing hip squeeze. My sister and daughter were in front of me holding my hands as I was squatting in the tub. The midwife and assistant were watching but very hands off (which I had requested) and I remember yelling "RING OF FIRE! CROWNING!" (I tend to talk in short, terse, directed phrases in labor.) I could feel my son's head sitting on my perineum and I mentally gave myself all the self-talk about how he needs to stretch me out so I wouldn't tear. But I couldn't quite finish the thought because another surge was coming. I remember the great relief I felt as I yelled "HEAD!" I reached down and felt my son's head still face down and his ears. I thought of how amazing it was that he was half out and half in, between worlds... I also felt between worlds at this time. I liken it to being on a bridge between the realm of this physical world and the realm of the spiritual world. You meet your baby on this bridge to usher them into this physical realm...and with that thought, I felt another surge coming, I brought my hand back up and grabbed the handle on the tub and with this push felt his shoulders and then the rest of his body slide out and into the pool. I promptly reached down and scooped him up onto my shoulders. Everyone was pretty quiet and I remember looking into his eyes and saying "There you are", while I took a big, deep inhale of the top of his head. (I had read Carla Hartley's writings on No Hatting, No Chatting, No Patting for why this is so important to bonding with your baby). Our son was here. Our family was complete.


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Sarah's VBA3C

12/8/2014

2 Comments

 
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As promised, Benjamin Isaiah's birth story. 

Ok so I woke up having irregular contractions on 20th of November so my husband and I went for a 2nd sweep which was scheduled for 4:30 on the 20th.. Immediately after the sweep, my contractions started to regulate themselves. So we went out for our last meal together before the baby came.  I couldn't stay out long so we went back home....By 12, contractions were 7 minutes apart & I decided I needed gas & air, so we went to hospital. 


The first midwife they saw refused to give me G&A; she said I must wait to see a doctor.  This made me very upset, but it only got worse. The first doctors came and told me that I should have the baby cut out, but I refused.  More doctors came and one tried to force us by threatening us with all sorts--from baby was in distress and going to die and it'll be my fault...to hospital solicitors {lawyers}.  This went on the whole time I was in labor, even while I was contracting, but my husband and I remained a team.  He kept saying to me, "Baby I love you, you can do this, and I would say, "I can do this, thank you for your faith in me."

By 6 o'clock I was 6 centimeters.  The pain was too intense for me to pay any attention to them so they worked on my husband, but he didn't budge.. 


By 7, I was ready to face these awful people.  I started pushing, and it took me awhile but I got there.  All those people who doubted me were now telling me how impressed they were with me.. I screamed & my husband cried as my baby was born at 8 on the dot!  He weighed 8lb 4oz.

After the baby was born, things went wrong with my placenta...they started pulling at it very hard and I started losing a lot of blood; my husband was so scared.  I was taken away and given a blood transfusion, but by the grace of God, I am recovering well and the baby is nursing beautifully. My husband has a smile from ear to ear...

I would like say that I am so happy with all the advice given to me by all the beautiful mummas on this forum.  If it wasn't for you all, I would never have had the courage to fight the system.
You don't need luck ladies, you're all blessed with knowledge...stay blessed, all of you. Hope your journeys are peaceful ones...bless you all...
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Jennifer's Home VBAC

10/19/2014

1 Comment

 
This is long. And it may have an expletive or two or three. And a placenta. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.....

11/22: 40 I can't believe I’m still pregnant. I went into labor with Kayla (now almost 3 years old) at 40+2 & delivered at 40+3. I tried telling myself that this might not have been her actual birth day if I hadn’t been augmented with Cervidil, had the epidural and eventually the C-section. Whoever propagates the myth that second babies tend to come earlier should be shot. Trying not to despair.

11/26: 41+0: My sister arrives to keep me company since it’s her college Thanksgiving break. I have not been so desperate over the last few days since spending the weekend with Kayla kept my mind off things and focused on our last possible "mommy and only daughter time". My sister and I start making cupcakes for Kayla's Thanksgiving “dinner” at her day care the next day. Mummies and Oreo/candy corn turkeys. I might have eaten a few while baking.

11/27 41+1: I have an appointment at 10 AM with one of my midwives (they are a team of two) at home. We discuss induction methods to try over the coming weekend if I’m still preggo (including castor oil, yuck), and this thought depresses me a bit. I ask her to strip my membranes, she gets in there real good and swipes about 2-3 times. She checks me and tells me I’m 3cm and 80% effaced. It’s the first time ever that I have been checked by either midwife, and turns out it was also the last. Just another small, yet huge, distinction between the care I received during Kayla’s pregnancy. (Keep those legs closed during the last few weeks ladies!!!) I digress. Those numbers, however, are good news to me because I never made it past 2cm without Cervidil and an epidural with Kayla.

After my appointment my sister and I finish the Thanksgiving cupcakes and deliver them to Kayla's day care. While I’m up and about I have pretty strong BH but once I get home I am tired (I know it’s only 3pm don’t judge!!!) and spend the rest of the day relaxing, which makes the BH disappear. I am slightly disappointed when they stop and at the fact that my cervix must be made of steel because I have NOT ONE drop of blood from the strip, lol.

From now on you will notice a common thread, denial. In hindsight probably the best coping technique I never planned on using. It’ll make sense I promise, just keep reading.

11/28 41+2: Wake up to pee at 2:30 as usual. Had a BH (Braxton hicks contraction) or two while I am up. Wake up again at 4 AM, expect it is the BH that wakes me up. Go to pee, again. Have a few more BH in the bathroom. Hmmm, that is odd. Wait, these are a little more intense. I have more mucus-y discharge with the most miniscule amount of pink/red streaking. Probably doesn’t mean anything (denial). Go back to bed, put on my Hypnobabies track to try and go back to sleep in "case" this is it. I noisily breathe through a "BH." Tony (significant other) asks me if I am OK, he heard me breathing hard. I told him I was fine and to go back to sleep. I can't take these "BH" laying down, they felt a lot better on the toilet. I lie and tell Tony my stomach hurts and I need to go back to the bathroom. 

I admit to myself that these on top of each other, need-to-breathe-and-focus-through “BH” are probably real contractions and I open my contraction timer app on my phone while on the toilet to confirm. It’s about 4:30 AM when I start timing them. And just like Kayla's labor, these are already LESS than 3 min apart and anywhere from 30-60 seconds long. I suspect that they were a minute long all along but I would easily miss the beginning of the contraction and the peak was about 30 seconds. So these are real contractions but I am not admitting that I am in labor because contractions are “supposed” to be farther apart and eventually get closer together (denial) 

Tony walks into the bathroom and asks me what is going on. I confess that I had been having contractions since 4 AM. He chastises me for not telling him. I counter that I needed him to get some sleep to be useful to me later and that I was fine coping on my own for now. I tell him that I’m going to take a bath to see if they stop or slow down in case this is not the real thing (denial, see what I mean?) He goes and puts my sister on notice. I light a few candles and continue to labor in the tub, contractions not feeling any different. They are all in my lower belly, below my belly button. It feels like an intense tightening, requires my concentration but not painful. I send a text message to my midwife because I don't want to inconvenience her at 5 in the morning if she is still asleep, especially if it is not labor (denial and mind of a birth worker I guess, trying to be considerate of my birth team, especially because it is Thanksgiving)

So funny side note... While in the tub I actually attempt to post something a BabyCenter homebirth forum that  letting them know that I was in labor and to complain that my contractions continue to be less than 3 minutes apart and I would like a breather to assimilate what is happening. But by the time I switch to my internet app and write 4-5 words I have to switch back to my timer app because another contraction was coming. So after about 10 contractions and only writing 2 sentences I give up.

I get out of the tub at about 6/6:30 and head back to my room. My daughter has claimed my spot on my bed. I notice the difference in how the contractions feel out of the tub and start to ask Tony for counter-pressure. I have a few contractions in the room and my vocalizing, which is louder now that I am out of the tub, keeps threating to wake up Kayla up. My midwife texts me back and asks me to call her. I decide that it time to set up shop in the living room. It’s go time. I take my pillows and my still naked self (grabbing my robe out of respect for my sister) and go down the hallway. 

At a little after 7AM, once I am comfortable on my knees, draped over my birth ball, I call my midwife. I attempt to talk through contractions because according to my doula self it’s only been 3 hours so I’m still in early labor and I should be able to talk through them (denial). No such luck. I pause to breathe through them. She tells me to continue with the text updates but to call her if anything *changes* (for those of you who have already given birth you probably know what she means) but otherwise we were going to check in at 10 AM.

From my lofty position on my ball I feel like a conductor and begin to orchestrate the setting up of the living room between contractions. Telling my sister and boyfriend what to clean, what to move, where certain supplies are. I actually smile to myself at one point and marvel at how awesome to be doing this in my living room is rather than making sure that my hospital bag is packed and getting dressed. I flashback to memories of the taxi driver that wouldn’t shut up at 2 in the morning on the way to the hospital while I am obviously in labor in the back seat an am filled with gratitude at NOT having to move from my apartment.

I tell Tony to start blowing up the pool around 8 AM while my sister goes downstairs to get some breakfast. I ask that they get me a fruity beer in lieu of a cup a wine, to see if I can get some rest (because you know, I am not in full blown labor or anything, denial). Between a few sips of the beer and some Tylenol I start to get drowsy and attempt to sleep on the sofa. I do doze off in between contractions, waking up in time to request some counter-pressure by waving my hand and grunting some noise or calling my sister's name. But they feel worse lying down and I decide that the 30-60 seconds of sleep in between them is not worth how bad they feel lying down, so I get up and head back to the bathroom this time for a shower. I rig up some sort of system with my birth ball (yes I dragged it into my tiny ass bathroom in my tiny ass tub, lol) the shower and a bath pillow I had. I had the shower at my back and leaned forward or got up during the contraction and in between them sat on the ball and rested my head against the pillow to my right. I feel like I should have provided a make-shift diagram with this. This works for about 30 minutes I guess. The hot water is good enough that I don't require counter-pressure. But after a while this set up starts to irritate me and I take the ball out and attempt another bath, but it’s not the same relief, I need counter-pressure and I get out. It takes 3 contractions before I’m out of the shower and have another one as I go down the hallway and another one when I get to my room. 

And I spot what would be my lifesaver.... a hand held massager. WHY did I not think to use this sooner! So I take it and myself back to the living room. HEAVEN. At this point I remember thinking, no wonder in all the birth stories I read from the UK have TENS machines, and for a few seconds I regret not spending the $30 bucks for one I saw on Amazon. So if you are still pregnant and reading this. GET ONE, you will not regret it.

I lean over my ball for a few contractions and start shivering. But it’s just because I got out of the hot shower, at least this is what I assume, because there is no way that after 5 hours I'm “already” in transition (denial). But after a few more contractions after staring at the tub I say screw it and get in. I don't care if it’s too early, I need something else to help me cope. 

The water does nothing for the actual contractions (probably because they still feel like intense pressure, and I’m not really registering them as pain) and the back pain is a bitch but it relaxes me so much and it makes it a lot easier not to tense when I feel them coming. I’m moaning through each and every single one now with chants of "oooooooooooopen" and sometimes talk to myself with whisperings of quick "pressure pressure pressure" all while getting a massage from the hand held. I can manage through each contraction. 

At this point Kayla is actually awake, she got scared at first of a few of my vocalizations but quickly got used to them. She was her regular morning cranky self until I let her get in the pool with me. She was content and quite unphased in there. But after the water kept rising it got uncomfortable for her and she requested to get out on her own. After which she appointed herself the person in charge of keeping me hydrated, after seeing my sister do it, and continued to offer me cold water with a straw, it was great, she was great, as my gut told me she would be. I wanted her to be at the birth but just in case I had two doulas in case of transfer or she was not handling it well and needed to be cared for in another room. So my official opinion on siblings at birth, at least at home, is to go with your gut but have a back-up plan.

10:15 AM: I check in with Shar. She can tell things from my noises that things are coming along. I tell her that since I got out of the shower the beginning of each contraction come with a very mild sense of needing to poo and that if I push ever so lightly with it, it actually helps relax my whole bottom area. But in no way do I think that this means anything (denial), I actually convince myself that like Kayla, the baby must be in a weird position and is just pushing against my tailbone or something, suggesting bad position that I thought would resolve itself from me being hands and knees in the tub. Shar (midwife) asks me if I want her to head over, she can be there in 15 minutes. I decline, I’m coping well and am feeling baby move (and you know I’m not really pushing so I don’t really need my midwife). I then speak to doula #1, Trina, who is Tony's longtime friend from high school, a mom of 2, L&D nurse, and former birth assistant (I love this woman), and tell her to be here by noon as well. I’m in labor and I’m feeling bad that she just came off a 12 hr shift as an L&D nurse (and she has 2 kids and goes to school). I also text doula #2, Anna, and she said she is heading over because it takes her about an hour to drive. 

All the while I'm feeling bad that I am taking everyone away from their Thanksgiving plans, isn’t the laboring mind funny?

10:30 AM: 15 minutes later that need to poo kept increasing. My doula self was like, OH, it really does feel like a need to take a shit. But my laboring self kept thinking that I actually did need to poo and kept worrying that I would poop in the tub. LOL. In hindsight I actually didn’t register that my water broke because of this! I distinctly remember thinking that I had a wet fart, or a really light loose stool, along with what I though was the air bubble that accompanied it. I remember asking my sister if I had pooped because I saw really small amount of very light green, and it didn’t even cross my mind that that was probably meconium (really strong denial at work?)

10:45 AM: About 15 minutes after that (about 30 min since speaking to Shar) things *change* and I need her NOW. I tell my sister to call her and tell her so. It probably happened after the water that I didn't know broke, broke. I was pushing during more and more of the contractions. I had a though that I couldn’t be pushing, not because I was worried I wasn't fully dilated, no, it was because I couldn't possibly have gone through transition yet (yes, I am still in denial). This is the time when I had some not so productive thoughts. During the contraction, when I wasn't pushing, those moments were really intense. I started wondering why the hell I chose to do this at home. I couldn't possibly handle 4-6 more hours of this (yup, more denial). I could've been at the hospital sleeping with an epidural. And I’m pretty sure that if I were in a hospital without the support of Tony and my sister and if I were strapped to the bed for monitoring, I probably would have gotten one.

But the only words that I remember coming out of my mouth was "ouch, that last one hurt," and maybe shedding a tear or two, upon which Tony held my hand and told me how great I was doing. Then I would have another contraction and had no more time to dwell on those thoughts. Maybe my contractions are less than 3 minutes apart for a reason.  I never once actually contemplated actually going to the hospital. 

11:00 AM Shar still wasn’t there and I’m starting to panic. I have my sister call her to find out where she is. She is looking for parking. Only mild relief, because this is Brooklyn, NY, parking could take another 30 minutes. At this point I’m pushing through most of the contraction. It feels good and productive to push. I push when I need to, vocalize through the rest of the contractions when I need to. I feels amazing to be in tune with my body, just doing what I feel is right. 

11:15 Shar arrives and sets her stuff down quickly and checks on baby. I’m lucid and aware in between contractions enough to try and guess what the heart rate is, 140/150. It’s actually 160, not too far off, right in range of normal for baby. I spend most of my time on my knees, and I must be pushing effectively because Shar gives me no direction, she is just sitting on the couch. I can feel my own progress as I gauge my "need to poo." I’m quite proud of myself since this is the first time I've ever pushed. I feel the 2 steps forward, one step back. I can hold my progress if I want but I decide I rather rest in between contractions and let go and feel baby go back (yup, even in labor I am lazy). I’m actually quite fine with this and think that it’s probably helping me stretch. 

Shar asks me if I want to be checked. I don’t really want to be touched, especially now while I’m pushing. So I check myself. After a little fishing I feel the hard part of baby's head about a knuckle in and show Shar with my fingers. But a few minutes later something dawns on me. A fleshy, squishy, kind of furry part that I had to feel past to get to the hard part of the head is foreign to me, and I realize that that wasn’t just a part of my vagina (duh Jen you recently shaved, that hair is NOT yours!) I touch again and in disbelief (denial) I ask Shar if that squishy part at my vaginal entrance is the head. I smile because unlike with Kayla, I am the first to touch this child earth-side. She confirms this and tells my sister to come have a look/ feel. 

Now upon hearing this, Tony, Mr. “I want nothing to do with the business end of things because I am squeamish," actually ASKS to come take a look. And when he realizes that what he is seeing and feeling is his child, he starts sobbing. I keep pushing, moving easily from my wide knees position to lifting one leg up as I see fit. Now that I know that is the head I'm feeling I love to keep my hand there while pushing to tell my progress, and I stop being lazy. Still no direction from Shar. I love it, I’m in control. I start to feel the ring of fire, it’s more of a stretching and burning sensation, and since I’m pushing slowly, it’s not that bad to me. I feel a forehead and I start to really push. It doesn’t dawn to my doula self that baby is facing the wrong way.  I remember all those birth stories that I’ve devoured during my pregnancy about the animalistic sounds made during pushing and I let go. A few of these guttural mama bear growl/roars and the head is out!

And then it hurts, like a bitch. I may have almost screamed at this part. Shar is now telling me that I need to push. I move from knees to on my back to hands and knees to back to my knees with one leg up. Pushing without a contraction hurts, I can't. Shar tells me again, with a little urgency but no fear,  that I need to push, and finally with the next contraction (which felt like it took forever to come) out comes the shoulders and all of a sudden there is a baby in my arms. 12:15 PM

Of course typical to me, my thoughts go something like this:

Everyone says the moment that you have your baby your pain disappears, so why does my vagina still hurt? Then I think, I must be an incubator for Tony's DNA because this looks like a replica of Kayla and she is the spitting image of her father. Then it finally dawns on me that I did it! I just had a baby! That came out of my vagina! At home! With no meds! In the water!

All of this going on in my head as I’m blowing air in to baby's face because it’s not breathing well yet while Shar is telling me to talk to my baby. But no one is really worried, including me. Baby eventually starts to cry. Then in comes Trina, and she starts to cry when she realizes that I literally just gave birth. A few minutes later, in comes Anna, both my doulas missed it. They start taking pictures. 

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It dawns on me that I should check for the gender, or someone asks me, and I grope blindly under the towel and upon finding no protruding body parts I declare that we have an Isabella Marie. 

Now, I’m already anemic and it’s pretty bad during pregnancy, and at my last check at 37 weeks my iron was only a little over 9. So we had planned and were prepared for interventions at this stage. We had meds and an IV bag nearby and ready to go. However, my blood loss was fine so far but we needed to keep an eye out for the placenta so after a while Shar asked me to get up to see if the placenta would come out. I handed baby to Trina and she helped Bella get more fluid out and rub in a little vernix she had left.

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We set up on the sofa and Tony and Kayla cut the cord that had already stopped pulsing.

After pains SUCK. Majorly. That is all I have to say. Placenta still hadn't come so I hand Bella off to Daddy for some bonding. 

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I stand and after a push or two and some mild tugging it slides out whole. Minimal blood loss. No PPH (post-partum hemorrhage). Relief! No intervention required. Sorry it is not the prettiest placenta picture. I did warn you though. 
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I decide I want to get cleaned up. Originally I wanted to take an herbal bath that I had bought off of Etsy, but we had run out of luck with the hot water so I rinse off with a shower instead. While in there I feel something hanging out and I am wondering if it’s a clot or something and I call Shar in. Or something. It’s a piece of my vagina -_-. So when I get out back to the couch we go for some assessments and repairs. I avoid a 3rd degree tear and it’s just a bad 2nd degree. Shar stitches me right up with Kayla acting as my doula telling me deep breath mommy, deep breaths <3. 

I get dressed and a little while later Tony's father arrives and meets Bella. Then they bring the placenta for me to look at and he almost runs out of the house, lol. But curiosity got the better of him and Trina and I explain to him in Spanish its parts and how they worked. He is attentive and amazed.

Time for the newborn exam

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9 lbs!! Say what!!
Again, what!!! I birthed a 9 lb, OP (occiput posterior/sunny-side up) baby, in 8 hrs, with no meds, at home, relatively painless with less than 2 hours of pushing. I was feeling like Jay-Z brushing the dirt of my shoulders. I want to call my previous OB and tell her “keep it around 7lbs for a successful VBAC my ass." 

This experience was more than I could've hoped for. I feel so redeemed, so grateful, so ecstatic to have had this birth. It’s still surreal to me. I have this huge baby sleeping beside me as I write this and feel like it was already so long ago. I have this newfound respect for my body and some for myself. Tony is now a homebirth advocate, really, he goes around telling women that they should birth at home. I hope that I was able to show my sister that birth is not something to be afraid of and given the right support, is a far cry from what they show on TV. I hope this experience sticks with my daughter and she can have the births she wants when her time comes. I look forward to having any future children at home without fear if circumstances allow it. 

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1 Comment

Janelle's Home VBAC

9/11/2014

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Janelle's first 4 babies were born in the hospital.  Her next 3 were home births.  Baby #8 was a cesarean due to transverse lie, which led to an inverted T incision to deliver the baby.  Janelle says "My c-section was a nightmare.  As a home birther, it was devastating when they told me I would never have another vaginal birth."

This labor was different from my other 8.  It started and stopped so often I didn't think it was going to happen. Finally when evening fell, it picked up again and got more regular.  He was in position and I could feel him descending.  It took a few hours but it was manageable and we passed the time talking and eating.  

It was another few hours later when I realized he was no longer in the right position.  He was almost a repeat c-section as he had flipped transverse mid-labor and we had to turn him.  Just in case, we called 911 and boy did those paramedics get more than they bargained for!  For one thing, they had never seen (and one had never even heard of) a water birth. They started to freak out, so I kicked them out.  They kept coming back saying if I need a c-section we have to leave now. I was in way too much pain to go anywhere so I cried out to God for mercy.  Finally he turned and engaged, but his position wasn't optimal so I would have to get him out. The urge to push never kicked in but my water had now broken. The next push didn't do much but something was different. I looked up and my midwife looked into my eyes and it was time to do this.  This time when I pushed he came right out, so quickly no one could tell how he presented. Lol. The paramedics were nice enough to stay in the kitchen, though still freaked.  They wanted to take us to the hospital, claiming they had to take us by law (lie).  My midwife stepped in and called them on that and magically the refusal of service forms were given to us to sign.  My hubby gave them a few cigars and they went on their way.

David was 8lbs2oz, 20.5" long.
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