Welcome to the world, Baby Boy, Part 4

The midwives offered to check me to see how dilated I was, but I was so reluctant because before, I'd been dilated to 7 cm a whole four days beforehand, and after several hours of contractions, I was afraid to have them check only to find out that I was still at 2 or something depressing like that.  I was afraid that knowing how far there was to go would make me believe I couldn't make it, so I put it off as long as possible, but before long, I started feeling like it was time to push and a quick check said we were at 9 cm!  I was a little nervous about pushing in the tub.  Pushing a baby into the world, opening the gateway for a soul, as some would say, is BIG work and I wasn't sure I felt grounded enough there to manage it, but the time came so quickly, there wasn't much time for doubts.

I'm always baffled when I see doctors telling women not to push or to wait to push.  It doesn't work that way for me and I can't imagine that it does for anyone else either.  It's just something you have to do, even beyond the feeling of having to breathe.  I pushed once, one big long push, and when I stopped, I remember the pain was terrible.  (Well, I remember that the idea of the pain was terrible, but I can't call up the sensation.  Strangest thing.  I can remember, with painful empathy, just what little hands scraped on asphalt feel like, just how it feels to pinch the tip of a finger in a chair, the jolt of pain from a toe stubbed in the dark, but labor?  Nothing.)  Amy, I think, told me that you were right on my perineum.  I remember saying sarcastically, "No kidding!"  And then I pushed a second time and they told me your head was out.  With the third push I remember feeling vaguely frustrated - all this laboring, two pushes, pain, and I still hadn't delivered a baby?  What the heck?!  So, I remembered gathering myself in a disorganized way and pushing one more time.  (I also remember saying, "Get out!" during that push.  Sorry - it wasn't a good place for you to hang out and I was ready to meet you.)  And then, there you were!

I don't remember who caught you.  I think it was Allison and it's in the paperwork somewhere, but I just remember you, all pink and blue and compressed, being put in my arms and warm wet towels being laid over both of us.  I was so stunned to have a boy.  I'd really been prepared for things to go either way and didn't have any "sixth sense" of what you might be, but somehow, wow, a boy!  (I'm delighted, just in case you're wondering.  I love little boys - the rowdy, sturdy gameness that they come at life with.)  It took you a few moments to gather yourself enough to cry and no one else was worried, but I remember asking over and over if you were okay.  And of course you were.  You arrived so solid and centered (I still cannot believe I had a 9 lb. baby) and in a moment or two, you began to "squeak," as your sister says.

Then, of course, there was a flurry of activity.  Delivering the placenta, making sure that there wasn't too much bleed, concern that you were too cold, etc.  (And that last push must have awakened your sister, because she started to cry.  Motherhood is so automatic and it supersedes so much else.  You were only here a moment, I was cuddling you up, and I was giving your dad instructions as he darted up the stairs to check on her: "Tell her everything's okay, but it's not time to get up yet.  Tell her you'll turn on Frances and when she wakes up in the morning, she can meet her little brother!"  As if I didn't have enough to do.  As if he didn't know that.)  Once I was able to think about other things, the water seemed very cold all of a sudden and we all wanted to make sure you were warm enough, so I handed you off to get dried and dressed, staggered out of the tub, dried off too, and we snuggled down in bed with blankets piled on us.

Welcome to the world, Baby Boy, Part 3

So..., there we were, pretty sure that labor was starting but not quite, so I got in the bathtub and just stretched out.  Your dad was bustling around, making sure the birthing tub was ready to go, double-checking things, and asking me every two minutes if I thought this "was it."  He and Amy texted a little bit, but nothing much was happening.  The contractions weren't that bad and they kept happening, but they weren't clearly getting stronger or closer or developing any sort of pattern, so I just kept refreshing my bath, chatting with your dad, and getting annoyed with all the questions.  I just kept waiting for some crystal clear indication (like my water breaking) that this was "it."

"It" was a contraction that hit a little after 11:00 p.m.  Your dad was on the phone with Amy at the time, so he told her we were ready.  She got in touch with Jill and Allison and they were all here by midnight.  In the meantime, your dad had the tub about a third of the way full, so I got out of the bathtub and got in there to relax.  It was chilly in the house, in the mid-60s, and we were working hard to get things warmed up enough for you too - oven open, space heaters running, stove cranked up, so I just sat in the tub and watched the steam rising.  For some reason, I remember the ceiling.  I just stared up at the tongue-and-groove ceiling boards, thinking my way through each contraction, and waiting as patiently as I could.

Amy, Jill, and Allison went into our little room to wait, conveniently out of the way enough to offer privacy, but close enough to be able to hear my breathing and time contractions without being in the middle of everything.  Your dad sat next to me, talking to me occasionally, but mostly, it was quiet and I just labored through contractions in my own way.  My lower back hurt pretty badly (had the same pain with your sister) and I found that it was comfortable to let the plastic step in the pool press into my lower back.

Labor is a strange thing and so hard to describe, because for me, not only did the pain end the moment you were born, but so did the memory of the pain.  It's a slippery memory and it slides away from me whenever I try directly to grab it.  Mostly, I just remember the ceiling, staring and staring at the ceiling and trying not to let my breath get away from me.  And the slideshow your dad put together.  Because, before I met you, I couldn't imagine anything as fine as your sister, your dad put together a slideshow of pictures of her to run along with a mix of songs that you both listened to while you were hanging out in my tummy.  A quiet house, the humming of the stove, cold darkness all around the edges, gentle music, her sweet face slipping past, and the ceiling - always the ceiling....

Welcome to the world, Baby Boy, Part 2

By 9:00 or so, I was still feeling kind of "off," so I just stayed in bed where I'd done our reading and stretched out.  Shifting positions and moving around didn't seem to help much, but I still wasn't sure anything was going to happen.

This is probably a good place to explain why we were planning to have you at home.  Your sister was born, start to finish, in just about four hours and I had absolutely no indication that I was going into labor until my water broke, which is what started everything.  Your dad works about 30 minutes away, and the hospital, depending on traffic, is about 25-40 minutes away.  From the first few weeks I knew I was pregnant, I was just anxious about what we were going to do when it was time for you to arrive.  I was worried that your dad would be at work, and wasn't sure that he'd have time to rush home, gather us up, and get us to the hospital.  I kept thinking about being here with a toddler and being in active labor or about getting a third of the way to the hospital and then having you arrive.

And, of course, we don't have any family nearby and while we have some friends who would have taken your sister on a Saturday afternoon for a few hours, I didn't feel like I knew anyone that I could call in the middle of the night.  Or who I'd want to ask to come to the hospital and pick up Nora and mess with swapping car seats out while I was in labor and then they'd maybe have to call off from work and take care of her for who knew how long, not to mention how she'd likely feel about having to be hauled out of bed in the middle of the night, left at a nurses' station with strangers, taken to a strange place, and kept away from the two people she really knows for hours and hours.  That all just sounded awful - for her and for me, and I wanted to be able to think about you and focus on you and not be worrying about all this other stuff.

So, I started researching my options and found the CHOICE office in Worthington.  They offered home births in Franklin and surrounding counties, had been in practice for 35 years, and just seemed to be very organized, reputable and highly recommended, so we set up an appointment.  I also wanted to make sure that my blood pressure wasn't likely to be a problem again, and after talking to my doctor, the midwife who delivered Nora, the midwives in practice and just about every other medical professional in my life, I was reassured over and over that it was likely a fluke and there was no reason to believe it would happen a second time.  So we set up an initial consultation, talked about it quite a bit, and decided that just staying here at home, while knowing the hospital was close by and we'd be advised if that became necessary, would be the best fit for all of us.

I wasn't really sure what to think at first, to be honest.  Everyone seemed very competent, but I just wasn't sure I could do it, and of course, as a parent, my mind immediately went to the worst case scenarios that left me wondering how I'd live with myself for the rest of my life if anything went wrong.  But your dad was confident.  (I think I've said this before - he's very confident in me, more than I am, so often, and his confidence allows me to jump off cliffs.  Or at least be dragged to the edge of the cliff and pushed....)  After talking with Amy, Jill (who is an herbalist and had a Grateful Dead tattoo, both of which your dad just loved), and Allison, we came home, mulled it over, and decided that we'd do it! Aside from some mild anemia, which they caught, and a little bit of creeping on the part of my blood pressure in the final two weeks, I had another textbook pregnancy, although I'd be lying if I said that the blood pressure blips in the last couple of weeks didn't freak me out just a bit....