When I found out I was expecting my third, I knew right away I wanted my birth experience to be very different. I wanted to be in control and I wanted to be able to do what felt natural, whether it was eating, drinking, walking around or taking a shower. I researched throughout my entire pregnancy, read books, practiced visualization and felt ready. My labor went very fast and I was able to labor almost the entire time at home. Mavis was born just 20 minutes after we arrived at the hospital. She came out in one push and I did it without any pain medication.
As great as my labor and delivery went, there was still just one thing. Well, a few things. We were in a hospital with well meaning nurses who drove me crazy. They come into the room constantly to check my blood pressure, check on the baby, do wet diaper checks, ask when she nursed last... It always seemed to be timed just right too. As soon as I finished nursing and started to drift off to sleep there would be a knock at the door.
Because I delivered in the late evening, the hospital kitchen was closed, so all I had to eat was a dry turkey sandwich and a blueberry muffin. I was starving!
Eighteen months later we found out we were expecting again and right away I knew I wanted to do a home birth. It took about 28 weeks to convince my husband that this would be an amazing experience.
And it was--
Doing anything had become increasingly uncomfortable. Standing, walking, sitting, laying down... nothing relieved the pain or the pressure of the baby being so low. I woke constantly in the night to pee or chug water, and getting out of bed was excruciating. I kept thinking my entire pregnancy that I would go early. I was convinced. Probably because I was so miserable towards the end. Pregnant, three other kids to take care of and a house on the market with daily showings.
At my 40 week, ugh, yes, 40 week check-up, I was 3cm dilated and about 40% effaced. I was feeling so hopeful that labor wasn't far away. I spent the whole day thinking any moment the baby would just come. But she didn't, which was actually okay because my sister was arriving that afternoon and staying for four days. I remember worrying that I wouldn't go into labor before she left.
Later that night, I had this weird urge to go grocery shopping. It was around 6:30pm and we are usually cleaning up from dinner and getting ready to give our 2 year old a bath, but I needed to go grocery shopping.
My husband was a good sport and went along with it as we stocked our cabinets and freezer with all kinds of foods and snacks. We all sat in the living room after the two younger kids went to bed and joked and laughed at all the silly labor inducing techniques there were listed online. We tried a few just for fun and I went to bed around midnight.
I woke up around 4am having contractions and I knew this was it. I went to the bathroom to pee and noticed I was losing my mucus plug. I climbed back in bed and waited about thirty minutes before waking up Greg to be really really sure the contractions would continue, and they did. Once he was awake, I opened my contraction timer app and had him start timing them. They were about 9 minutes apart. Around 5:30 I decided to get up and take a shower, while Greg called the midwife and let her know I was in labor. We also woke up my sister.
Somehow, by the grace of God, the morning fell into place. My husband got our oldest off to school, dropped our toddler off at a friends house, and our baby-sitter came and took Layla to school for us so Greg could start setting up the birthing pool. I bounced away on my birthing ball while the pool filled up. I was able to breath through the contractions and was pretty chatty and happy in between them. They were now six minutes apart and I felt better once the midwife arrived.
My contractions started lasting longer, about a minute and half to two minutes, but I was still in control. My sister and I started out watching a movie while I bounced on the birthing ball, but as the contractions became more intense I found the noise to be very distracting. I wanted it quiet.
The pool was finally full, and I couldn't wait to get in. It was cold. I labored on my ball while Greg and my midwife scooped out pots of water from the pool and boiled pots of water on the stove to dump into the pool to warm it up.
Once I was able to get in it felt like heaven floating in the water and I was able to escape into my zone. I closed my eyes and with each contraction tried to relax and let my body work. Not fighting it. I let myself feel each contraction, knowing I was that much closer to being done and meeting my daughter. I remember feeling my water break in the pool and knowing we were getting closer because the contractions were getting harder to breath through and I started humming through them now. I asked the midwife to check me and I was already at 9cm. I didn't realize it, but I had been in the pool for four hours. I was still calm and focused, but with fleeting moments of wanting it to be over. Greg patiently sat by my side in silence for hours, only leaving me to heat up a pot pie, which I remember telling him to go away while he was eating because the smell was making me sick.
There was an increase in pressure with each contraction now, and I was moaning through each one loud enough that everyone was in the room, waiting. I wasn't expecting it to happen so fast, and neither was anyone else, but with the next contraction I started pushing, and I heard the midwife ask my sister to grab something, but all I could focus on was pushing her out. She didn't come out in one push like my last delivery. I had her out up to her ears and I remember pleading, "just get her out"
She was big, and I could tell she was big. The position I was in wasn't working, so with her head out, I climbed out of the pool, got into a squatting position and pushed with the next contraction and out she came. I will never forget that feeling of relief the very second she came out. It was over. The contractions, the pressure, the need to stay calm and focused. It was over and she was here.
I held her in my arms and studied her, made sure she was okay and breathing. With Greg's and my midwife's help, I climbed into my bed, still holding my precious daughter. We waited for the placenta to stop pulsing completely before cutting it and I was able to comfortably relax in bed while they got me cleaned up and I nursed my newborn baby girl.
Adaline Ameila was born on May 24th, 1:15pm, weighing 11lbs 9oz 21 inches long. Our home birth was everything I had hoped for and a fantastic way to welcome our fourth child into the world and into our beautiful family.
