Ribbon's homebirth

Ok, this story is older as it was for DS2 (now 2.5) but I thought I would share it, mainly for DoulaMama :)

I had a home birth using a midwife, and it was the best choice I've ever made. Such an empowering and spiritual experience! The idea of natural childbirth always fascinated me, but I never thought I would be able to do it drug-free, much less outside of a hospital. It never even occurred to me that this was an option. Watching the documentary "The Business of Being Born" early in my pregnancy sparked my interest. So, I started researching, and found that home birth was not only not the scary, dangerous event it's often made out to be - it was actually exactly what I was looking for, and fit right in with my personal belief system. The baby comes into the world completely unadulterated, alert - it makes a HUGE difference in early breastfeeding, bonding, etc. And all in all, the pain wasn't that bad, definitely bearable. SO worth it. With my first pregnancy, I had a hospital birth, pain meds, an epidural, episiotomy - and believe it or not, the total pain I experienced with my first was more than this time around... recovery time w/DS1 was a bitch (even though I was the ripe old age of 19), but I was up and around 4 hours after birth with DS2. You have to take it slow, of course, but it's amazing how fast you recover when you do it 100% naturally.

The weeks leading up to birth were very trying. DS1 was three weeks early, right at 37 weeks, born 6 lbs 11 oz and healthy as a horse. So, naturally I was expecting DS2 to follow suit. It was my second pregnancy (and those always come more quickly, right?) I was experiencing all of the signs of labor – regular contractions between five minutes to an hour apart, depending on the time of day; nesting, nervous energy; and just a general feeling of "this is it" hanging around my psyche. So, naturally, I was a bit over-excited when I went to my 37-week appointment and found out that I was almost 3cm dilated. "You may have this baby by the weekend," Midwife told me.

But the weekend came and went. No baby. The next week came and went. No baby. Then the next… I was dilated to a four by this point, had already lost my plug, felt like I was carrying around a bowling ball in my V (I thought second babies weren't supposed to drop!) and the contractions were consistent and occasionally intense, especially at night. It was driving me absolutely crazy, and I even considered taking castor oil at one point to "get things moving", so to speak. (I chickened out, thankfully.) Every day I walked for miles, jumped up and down repeatedly, ate spicy food – and let's just say with all the BD, DH wasn't complaining too much those few weeks ;)

On Tuesday, August 18th, I went in for my 39-week appointment and whined a little bit about how frustrated I was with this annoying prodromal labor. Midwife offered to strip my membranes – something I was pretty ambivalent about, but at this point, I wanted to get the show on the road! So I went ahead with the stripping. Not so bad – but it didn't do anything.

Wednesday night, I woke up in the middle of the night with some slamming contractions about 3-5 minutes apart, so intense that they kept me up and rocking in bed for over three hours. I told myself I would just wait it out a little bit before I woke everyone up – and eventually, to my disappointment, they subsided. The next morning, I rang Midwife. She decided to go ahead and check me again. Still dilated to a 4! No progress. I was so frustrated. What the hell were all of these intense contractions doing? She stripped my membranes again (dear LORD it hurt much worse that time), gave me a homeopathic remedy to take that evening called "Birth Ease", and sent me on my way.

That night, I went to bed resigned to my fate. This baby just wasn't going to come out. I was going to be pregnant the rest of my life.

Then the real contractions started. :)

Now, I'm not sure if it was the Birth Ease or not that did it; it certainly didn't do anything while I was taking it over a six-hour period early Thursday evening. But the contractions between 2-6am just about knocked my socks off. I was rocking and moaning and wandering from room to room, all over the house. I was about to pick up the phone and call Midwife and then --- they STOPPED AGAIN.

I didn't call. I was sure it was going to be another sixty years. It was Midwife who checked in around 9am Friday morning and, after getting an update, suggested sex and… an ENEMA. Not that I was really stoked about the enema, but hey, I was desperate at that point. Sure enough, IT WORKED! The contractions came back, immediately 5-7 minutes apart. Some required breathing through, but they weren't super-strong, so I was sure it was going to be at least an all-day affair. I was SURE I wasn't in active labor. After an hour had passed - and after much convincing by DH - I called Midwife and Doula. "I really don't think I'm in labor," I said, "but I guess I might be, so maybe you might want to check?"

Smart move. Midwife arrived an hour later and checked me. "Well, if you want the videographer to be here for the birth, you better call him right now," she said. "You're at a 7." Ok, so I guess I AM in labor, I remember thinking. Based on what I was feeling at the time (I really wasn't in that much pain) I never would have guessed I was that far along.

Doula and I set out to walk around the block. Every few minutes, I would lean on her, rocking and moaning through the contraction. I'm sure it was an interesting sight. We only made it to the end of the street before turning back around for fear we'd get too far away.

Back at the house, DH was setting up the birthing tub, so I breathed through contractions on my birthing ball while waiting (the ball was awesome btw – my favorite labor tool). The tub felt great, but it was causing everything to slow down a bit, so after about 20 minutes we decided that I should get out and walk. I got sort-of dressed (a feat in and of itself at this point), we went outside in the back yard and walked back and forth across the lawn – the walking caused the contractions to come much closer together, 2 minutes apart or so. I leaned on DH or Doula to get through them (whomever was closest). They required an incredible amount of concentration. It was around this point that I noticed how loud I was - can't believe I didn't notice before. Not sure if all the neighborhood dogs barking along with me was coincidence ;)

After a few minutes of this, I was feeling nauseous, so we went back inside and I spent some more time on the birthing ball, trying to let the nausea pass. That didn't last long. A trip down the hall to the restroom seemed to take four years, but I finally made it – and promptly threw up in the bathroom sink. I instantly felt better. Back to the living room, I sat on the ball a little longer to recuperate, but everyone was trying to convince me that I really needed to get up and walk a little more. I was reluctant because I knew what would happen when I walked – stronger, closer, more intense contractions. (Looking back, I recognize this as my transition point – the point where you begin to feel like you really can't do it any more, not realizing that birth is imminent.)

I finally decided to walk back and forth in the hall, making sure DH was close by to lean on. Our videographer showed up right around this time, but I barely noticed him and the gazillion pounds of equipment he was bringing in (more about that later). All I could think about was that I might need to pee at some point in the very near future. So we headed to the bathroom, slowly, moaning through contractions along the way.

After peeing, I stood up and was instantly hit with waves of contractions right on top of each other that almost knocked me over. I started feeling the urge to push. I leaned on the sink, the wall, DH – we couldn't leave the bathroom because they were so close. Good thing too – my water broke while I was standing over the tile, a huge SPLAT and gush of warm liquid. It felt great; the sound and feeling gave me a lot of energy – we were finally getting somewhere!

"Do you want to have this baby in the bathroom?" Midwife joked. UGH. That meant we'd have to walk all the way back to the living room! It might as well have been Mt. Everest at that point. We managed – not sure how long it took, but somehow, we ended up on the couch (where we had decided to give birth), and the pushing stage began.

This was by far the most intense part of the entire ordeal… I've heard from many people that pushing was easier than dilation, but this was not the case for me. Hard work! I tried breathing him down slowly at first – a major tenet of my birth plan. I heard miscellaneous exclamations of "there he is!", " -oh, he just went back in", as he played peek-a-boo for a few pushes. I really just wanted everyone to shut up and let me push him out ;) The contractions alone were not enough to move him down as fast as I felt was necessary, so it didn't take long before I felt I'd had enough of the "breathing him down easily" crap. I started pushing more aggressively and felt myself tearing. It actually felt good because it felt like progress. I was roaring now – I'm sure the whole neighborhood could hear me, but I didn't really care.

Even though it felt like a marathon, the pushing phase was very quick – after 15 minutes and about a dozen pushes, DS2 shot out after one intense roar-push. DH caught him and laid him on my chest (with Midwife's help, of course).

The very first thing that came to mind after that final push was not what I expected! All I felt at that extremely intense moment was complete relief. It took a couple of seconds for my brain to register that DS2 was there. But then it all rushed in, and I cried and kissed him at last. Born 4:43pm on Friday, August 21, 2009 - 8 lbs exact, 19 ¾ inches, perfect Apgars, a very impressive full head of dark, silky hair, ten fingers and ten toes, and a fantastic set of lungs.

Before the birth, we had offered to be a part of a breastfeeding documentary. The filmmaker wanted to capture the very first moments after birth, when an infant (left to its own devices and instinct) would crawl up a mother's chest, find the nipple, and begin to nurse, with little or no help. This worked out great for us. DS2 laid on my bare chest – covered in warm blankets – and did exactly that. No one else touched him or moved him for at least an hour. It was amazing.

The videographer, who had never attended a homebirth before, later described the next couple of hours as blissfully "uneventful". He told us that he thought that captured the beauty of the moment, and the power and serenity of birthing at home. There were no doctors or nurses, no noise, no equipment, no one rushing in to take the baby to weigh or measure or suction - just me and DS2, lying skin to skin directly on my chest, nursing contentedly, and DH lying next to us, occasionally tearing up and filled with pride. The videographer said it was a very moving experience, and he felt honored that we allowed him to film it. We feel honored that it was captured in such a way on film!

Birthing at home was a scary proposition at first. At the beginning of the pregnancy, I didn't think I'd be able to go without meds, much less birth outside of a hospital. Now that I've been through it, I can't imagine doing it any other way. It was one of the most empowering and beautiful experiences of my life (birth always is!) and I wouldn't change a single second of it. If I am so lucky to have a low-risk pregnancy this time around - I can't wait to do it again.