Emery's Natural {Hospital Birth}:

 I am VERY excited to share Emery's birth story of her 3rd gorgeous little man, Truman. I have been following her blog for 3 years now and It has been an incredible blessing to be ministered to by such an amazing woman of God every time I read her blog. If you don't follow her blog, you must! She is hilarious, her words are thought provoking, honest & raw. She loves Jesus and shares so openly about raising kids & lessons learned about marriage. Also, she is seriously the thrift store queen! She's such a little fashionista who always inspires me to think outside the box when it comes to putting outfits together! While I was pregnant with Conrad, I read Emery's birth story and knew that I wanted to attempt a natural birth. So, thank you, sweet friend, for helping birth this passion for birth in my heart! 

Save her blog  to your favorites! You'll be glad you did. 

Wednesday AM, I woke up and felt pretty normal. Except for the fact that I seemed to be... um... PEEING MYSELF every few minutes. haha. It wasn't a whole lot, but every once in a while there would be "a small outpouring", if you will.

I went back and forth in my head about whether to mention this oddity to my husband. I envisioned the conversation going something like this:

Me: "Hi honey! Um, not much to report today, except that I maybe might be peeing my pants!"

Him: *UTTER SILENCE AND MORTIFICATION*

So, I decided to wait it out and see if the situation would remedy itself on its own.

I went to Barnes & Noble with Myer and chatted with some moms who were there with their kids and had a great time. I continued to debate whether I should mention my possible peeing plight to Chris, and finally called him on my way home and filled him in.

He told me to call my midwife, like a smart human being would.

Around noon, I called the office (and ended up talking to my friend Christi, who is a nurse there!) and she told me to come in due to the fact that I tested positive for Group B Strep. They wanted to check if it was amniotic fluid.

Chris left work to come be with Myer at the house so I could drive myself down to the midwive's office and get checked out. I kept telling him it was assuredly NOTHING and that I would be right back.

At 2:00 in the afternoon, I saw a midwife. I told her I was pretty sure my bladder had just kicked the bucket after all this baby-growing business. She checked me and swabbed me and immediately told me that it was amniotic fluid and I needed to go ahead and check in to the hospital next door and get ready to have my baby.

I was in COMPLETE shock. I think I said something eloquent like, "Wait, you said whaaaaa?!?"

Then things got hectic.

I had to go check-in at the hospital, but I had accidentally brought the keys to the car with me to the office (I had driven Chris' truck) so now Chris had no way to drive down to meet me. I would have to drive back home, even in my shaky, leaky state.

I envisioned what I would say if I got pulled over. Something along the lines of "Hi, officer! You may not believe me when I tell you this, but I'm apparently in labor!" Maybe he'd escort me, like in the movies, with his sirens blaring, and we could show up to the hospital in style.

No such luck.

Chris called his mom and asked her to pick up Ezra from school and then he ran Myer over to our neighbor's house until his mom could get back to our house and pick Myer up too. I got back home and Chris and I threw some last minute things in the car and drove back down to the hospital.

No contractions yet. Just waves of disbelief. With both of my previous labors, I had showed up to the hospital in pain and it was all a blur. This time, I was laughing and chatting with nurses and filling out paperwork and feeling silly for sitting in a hospital bed while I wasn't even in LABOR. It was such a different experience!!

By the time I got all checked in, it was probably 3:30 in the afternoon. I needed to get my antibiotic drip started (for the Group B Strep) and that took a good 5 hours when all was said and done, because they give you two rounds of it 4 hours apart.

This was a bit stressful because if my body didn't kick into gear before 9:00pm, they would have to start a pitocin drip. Once your water breaks (or starts leaking, apparently), they don't like to go more than 12 hours before they step in to get things going because of the risk of Group B Strep infection for your baby. I was trying not to be too anxious about all of this, and just kept praying that God would keep my mind focused on Him and His perfect timing.

During that time, my dear friend and neighbor and previous Bradley Instructor, Nikki, came to the hospital to be with us to help out during the delivery. Contractions were slight and irregular at this point. I was only 2cm dilated. I was trying everything I could to get my contractions going.

pitocin. I only had until 9:00pm before they were going to intervene.

The last antibiotic drip was done just before 9:00pm.

My midwife, Leanna, showed up then too to check me and see if my body had been progressing on its own at all.

She checked me and told me I was 4cm dilated.

I was disappointed in the lack of progress, but she said it was enough and that she was going to just let my body keep doing what it was doing- no pitocin necessary.

Hallelujah!

Right after that, my contractions started coming much stronger and much more regularly. They were still all very manageable though, and I was able to keep talking to Chris and Nikki and we were laughing and eating Snickers bars and snapping lots of iPhone pictures in true nerd fashion.

I walked around and sat on a birthing ball and squatted through the pain of the contractions.

Around 11:00pm, I had 3 or 4 suddenly INTENSE contractions, to where I was moaning and having trouble breathing calmly, and the contractions were lasting for 2 minutes at a time. Yikes. Leanna decided she needed to check me again.

She took one look and asked if I was ready to have my baby. It was all happening so rapidly, so quickly... I could barely move or breathe or grasp what was going on.

After another incredibly intense contraction, I felt a burning sensation, and suddenly the nurses and Leanna and Chris were all telling me that THE BABY'S HEAD WAS OUT.

I hadn't even pushed, and my baby's head was out?!?! My body had done all the work for me... had ejected this baby without so much as a conscious effort on my part.

I didn't believe them at first, but after one more contraction, my new baby was laying on my belly, hardly making a sound and looking right up into my eyes. He was so... peaceful! He didn't even cry. He was the perfect pink color and he was gazing up at me like he'd known me all his life. :)

We all exploded with joy and I was filled with such relief that the hard part was OVER. It took me a few seconds to realize that I didn't know if this baby was a girl or a boy, and after a moment I remembered to ask Chris what it was.

"It's another boy!", he beamed.

And just like I thought it would be, in that moment of elation and new life and release, that bit of information was like music to my ears. It felt right and good and awesome, and my heart was completely filled with love for my new SON. He was finally in my arms, and he was the most beautiful little newborn I had ever seen.

Truman Arthur.

  {If he had been a girl, he would have been Dagny Jane.}

 It was 11:15pm. Two hours after my contractions had really kicked into gear. Truman & I stared at each other in wonder for a few minutes until I brought him up higher into my arms and he latched on and started nursing right away like a champ.

****************************** 

Once again, this birth has made me feel stronger and more confident and more empowered than I could have ever imagined. I went into this labor with a lot of trepidation. I didn't feel as prepared or excited about natural childbirth as I had been before I had Myer. Part of me felt like I had done the "natural thing" twice already, and maybe this time around I should just get numbed up and drugged up and get it over with as painlessly as possible. I had NO motivation. I had tried to watch labor videos and read natural birthing stories to psych myself up again, but I mostly just felt... tired. Weary. Unexcited about the coming birth. And I felt horrible about that.

And yet, I did it!!

I had amazing support set up around me at the hospital, I had educated myself about the truth and benefits of natural birth, about my choices and my voice in the matter, and then I let my body do just what it was created to do. Looking back now, of course, I am SO glad that I allowed myself to feel the pain and intensity of the process of labor again. There is no other experience in life that has made me feel more alive, more certain of who I am and what I can do and accomplish in this life that I've been given. There has been no other experience that has propelled me as strongly to acknowledge God's holiness and sovereignty in this world and in my very own body. It is simply awe-inspiring, and I am grateful that I was able to have that adventure with Him again- grateful to be brought to a place of such pain and weakness only be carried safely through it, and be strengthened down to my core by it all over again. 

What a fearfully wonderful thing!! 

Thank you God for little Truman! He's as sweet as a lollipop, and worth every moment of labor!  :)  

Read her second son, Myer's birth story {here}

It too is one of my favorite birth stories. 

Kristi's {Natural} Hospital Birth:

I've come to know this sweet lady over the last few months and I know you will be enlightened by her birth story. After reading her story, I felt a sense of empowerment after seeing how she was able to stand up for her rights and opt out of procedures that she felt were not necessary during her labor. She stuck to her guns and convictions. (If only I had known her when I was preparing for my first labor!). I'm glad she was able to have a pleasant hospital experience even when things didn't necessarily go as she had planned with her Dr. not being able to be at her birth etc. She has taught me SO much about motherhood and I often depend on her advice and friendship! She has been a great mentor to me! (3 of her 5 beautiful kiddos have since been born at home.)

Kristi's Story:

This is the story of my second-born child, my first son, and my first natural birth. I did not choose natural because I "want a trophy" or any other similarly silly reason. I chose it because I believe in it. I believe it's possible and beneficial for most women, not all. I believe it is a personal choice, and would not look down on someone for their choice. Choosing natural childbirth has changed the woman I am. It has deepened my faith in God and in myself. I have learned new things from each of my births. This birth taught me that I am strong, even when I don't think I am, even when others don't think I am, even when others think I may be crazy. Each of my natural births connected my husband and me more than my epidural birth. I don't believe natural birth is the only way to accomplish those things, but I know from experience that it has been a great tool in helping me accomplish those things in my life and in my marriage. 

On Dec 26, 2005, Scott had the day off and I decided that I wanted to get all the Christmas decorations down so that they would be done before baby boy made his arrival. Who knew that would start a yearly tradition? After the decorations came down, I realized I hadn’t felt C move much in the past hour or so. I laid down and drank some orange juice to try to wake him up. He didn’t really wake, so I called my doula, Sherry Asp, and asked her opinion. She said to head into Reno and check his vitals. I started counting my contractions on the way to Reno, they were about a minute long and 10 min apart. He was moving a little now, but it was about 6pm, and there was a possible snowstorm that night, so we thought we would go ahead and get into Reno before the temperature dropped too much. At the time, we lived in Fernley, NV which required a drive through the mountains in order to get to a hospital. So, we called the Webbs, who were watching R for us, and they met us at a McDonald’s in Reno to take her. We grabbed some food for us too.

We checked into the hospital, C was doing fine, and I was dilated to 6cm. We were admitted, and we called the doula to meet us there. I informed the nurse of my birth plan - no drugs, intermittent monitoring (15min/hr), a hep-lock instead of IV, leaving the cord attached until after the placenta was delivered, and immediate nursing for the baby. She did the heplock and left. I knew my doctor was on vacation, he had warned me, so I knew it would be luck-of-the-draw. I also declined the hospital gown. I hated trying to keep that stupid thing closed with my first birth, and there was no need for it here. After about 20 minutes, the nurse returned to say that the doc on call really wanted me on monitoring the whole time. I politely declined. I also began to sneak chicken nuggets whenever we were alone in the room. While eating at one point, the doc came in. I thought for sure I was in for a lecture. He didn’t say a word. I explained to him that I wanted to be able to move freely, and that I discussed this with my doc (he was a supervisor at the hospital, so I thought a little name-dropping couldn’t hurt). He said he didn’t mind at all, that he hadn’t told the nurse I had to stay on the monitor at all. Hmmmmm. Someone lied. I still don’t know who. After about an hour, the nurse said it would just be easier to go ahead and hook me up to an IV now just in case something went wrong. I had hemorrhaged with R’s birth, so I had already consented to pitocin after the birth. I asked, “Since I have the heplock, isn’t the time difference less than 5 seconds? I’d rather not. I want to be able to move around.” She tried to convince me that I could still move around, I would just have to wheel the IV cart around. Yeah, thanks, but no. The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. We watched Jay Leno, laughed and goofed off. If I had been at home, I would have been sleeping, but I was too excited. I did nap off and on. She seemed willing to experience it right along with us. She also told me that I should just do a shot of pitocin in my leg instead of putting it in the IV. We did decide to leave the heplock in, just in case, since it was already there, even though it was uncomfortable. (We never needed it.)

At about 5am, the doctor came in and said he wanted to check my progress. I was dilated to 9 cm, he told me. He then asked the nurse for a hook. She handed it to him. Immediately, red flags went up in my mind. “A hook? That can’t mean what I think it does? [to break my water] Surely he would ask first...” Very quickly, he had the hook package opened and in hand. I asked, “Wait... what are you doing?” He responded, very matter-of-factly, “I am going to break your water.” My head was saying, “Oh, really? You’re going to break something of mine, without asking me first? Nice try.” I managed to politely say, “I would like to discuss that with my husband first.” He looked astounded that I would dare even consider not going along with his will. He stood from the bed, stormed to the door, ripped off his glove, threw it in the trash, turned around and said, “You’re not at a 9 anyway, you’re only at a 6,” and left. Well, thank you, I didn’t realize they allowed two-year-olds to become doctors. I quickly realized his shift was over in 2 hrs, and he just wanted a paycheck for delivering my baby. I looked at my belly and told little man to just hang in there till after 7, because I didn’t want that doctor anywhere near us again.

Baby boy complied.

When the doctors changed shifts, the new woman came in, and was very nice. She was supportive of my birth plan, and checked on us every few hours, but largely left us alone, achieving a really good balance. We walked around the hospital a few times and basically just hung out, trying nipple stim and taking cohosh tincture. One time when the doc came in, at about 1pm, she explained that C was head down, and very low and said she would break my water if I wanted to. At this point, maybe I should have waited, but I was anxious to meet him, and had been in the hospital for about 18 hrs. So I consented, and she broke my water.

Until that point, I had barely felt my contractions, but once the water was broken, they came fast and furious. I found relief changing positions, particularly on all fours. Sherry would gently tap twice on any muscle that I was tensing, something we had practiced. That was a reminder to me to relax that muscle. It was very effective, because it was something we had worked out before. I didn't feel like she was telling me what to do, but rather, using a gentle reminder to tell me something I wanted to do. The fact that it was non-verbal was nice for me also. I got in and out of the shower, each contraction getting stronger. I felt like I was in the movies, groaning and yelling. Sherry used counter pressure on my lower back, and Scott was very encouraging throughout. Without those two things, I don’t know if I could have made it through. During one contraction, with Sherry doing counter pressure, I thought, "If she did nothing else, this woman is worth every penny." I considered the epidural, but I ran through the reasons I had decided not to use it in my head, and knew that I wanted to stick as closely to my birth plan as possible.

I told Sherry that I thought I needed to poop, and asked if it was normal. She said that it was fine and helped me to the toilet. It was there that I realized I didn’t need to poop, I needed to push! I decided then and there that I was comfortable on the toilet and would birth there. haha! Sherry got to where we were eye-to-eye and firmly but nicely said, "Kristi, you can NOT have this baby on the toilet." I trusted her and knew she would not have had that tone of voice with me if it weren't a good reason, so I got off and moved towards the bed. She later told me she has caught babies that way, but you run the risk of them hitting their head on the porcelain, and they go from warm womb to cold water. I had not thought of either of those things!

I got back in in the bed, again on all fours. We called the nurse, who, of course, had to check my dilation. She complained to Sherry that she hated checking dilation while I was in that position (hands and knees) because it was hard for her. I said, “Fine, I I’ll roll over.” I was a little annoyed, because, really, I am the one who should be comfortable, not her, but I didn’t want to be a diva. I rolled over, she announced I was at 10cm and fully effaced. By this point, the urge to push was undeniable and unable to be ignored. They called the doctor, but the one on call was in her office across the campus. So they called the perinatologist, whose office was in the hospital itself. I remember the nurses coming in and telling me I couldn’t push yet because the doctor wasn’t there. I said he better hurry up, or I was doing it without him. I looked at Sherry, and said, “I’m fine with you catching this baby!” She was training to be a midwife at that time (she is a midwife now). They told me I could turn back over if I wanted to, but I did not feel like I could move. They also asked if I wanted to feel his head, but I was holding myself up with my hands, because putting my hips down on the bed caused too much pressure. I said, “I would really like to, but I can’t.” I’m still amazed at my ability to form such polite sentences at the time (especially considering I yelled at my midwife with L’s birth, 2 years later when I birthed at home. Maybe I was just more comfortable with my surroundings and freedom to express myself with L, or maybe I became less concerned with what other people think of me).

The perinatologist came in and introduced himself, Dr. Globe, I think. For some reason, I said, “I hope we don’t make a mess on your nice shirt!” I guess I really liked his shirt. It probably had something to do with the fact that all the other doctors had been in scrubs, and he was dressed very nicely. He told me that was not a problem, and put a gown and gloves on. Because I had waited so long, once he got into position, I pushed very hard, and C was out in about 2 pushes. Sadly, the doctor cut the cord immediately. I tried to say something, but he was very fast. I knew he did not have time to review my birth plan, so I wasn’t upset, but I was disappointed. 

They set him up on my chest, and I said, “Hi, little guy!” 

Of course, it was love at first sight. He began nursing like a champ right away. The doctor told me several times that he was not pulling on the cord, but that the placenta was coming on its own. I thought that was kindof cute, and I really appreciated it, considering the doc had pulled my placenta to get it out with R, and that is almost certainly the cause of the hemorrhage. They called the time of birth at 3:00 pm, about 2 hours after my water was broken.

They took C and put him under the bili lights while the doctor started to stitch me up; I tore because I pushed so quickly. I know I asked him about 12 times if he was going to use a local anesthetic. Childbirth without drugs serves a good purpose, stitches without them is silly! He laughed and asked if I wanted them. I was very enthusiastic when I said yes. I whined that I wanted my baby back, and the nurses said they were trying to get him warm. I told them that I was plenty warm enough to warm him and he wanted to nurse again. They gave him back to me, and he nursed again. I did have to trade back and forth with him on the bili lights to make the nurses happy though.

When they moved me to a new room, I told the nurse I had to go to the bathroom, and she insisted on helping me to the bathroom. She was surprised at how easily mobile I was, which I found somewhat amusing. It’s amazing what you can do when you can move your own legs! (With my first hospital birth, after my epidural, I couldn’t move anything below my ribs until about 10am the next day, she was born at 12:37am; it was awful.) After the bathroom, I asked her to help me with my sweatpants, I had refused to wear the hospital gown the whole time. She joked about me liking to be covered in my own clothes. I said yes, I was just more comfortable that way. She took me to my new room, and we ate dinner - it was actually very good! Scott went with the nurse to give C his first bath, and when he brought him back, he was snugly wrapped in a blanket inside a stocking! I wish I had that picture to show you, but it's trapped on a dead laptop, still in my garage, hopefully awaiting a resurrection. 

***Don't forget to enter {Elle's 1st Give-a-way} if you haven't already!

Sabrina's Hospital Water Birth:

It's that time again! Birth story time!


I will be showcasing several birth stories in the next few weeks. Every story is different and unique. Some stories are hospital births, some home births & some birth center births, but all are equally inspiring and empowering. I have many pregnant friends (& non-pregnant friends too....) who I know will be encouraged after reading these. Like I've said in the past, these stories need to be told to break the fear from the hearts of woman & give us confidence that we too can birth on our terms-fully informed & supported. 

Let me introduce you to Sabrina:

Matt and I had decided that when we got married, we wanted to try to have a baby right away. We were both anxious and excited to get our family started that it didn’t make sense to wait. After 9 months of trying to get pregnant, on August 8, 2010 we had a wonderful surprise…the pregnancy test said “yes”!

For the most part, the pregnancy was enjoyable. Morning sickness kicked in around 7 weeks and since we didn’t want to tell anyone, including our family, until the first trimester was over, I ended up having to hide the ginger gum I ate & the SeaBands I wore.  Thankfully the morning sickness (well, evening sickness in my case) disappeared right on schedule once the first trimester ended.

 The second trimester was by far the most wonderful time of the pregnancy. Sure, every book you read tells you that the second trimester is the “golden trimester” because the morning sickness is gone and you are still small enough to get around comfortably. But for me, the second trimester was all about confidence – I learned about Hypnobirthing, I decided to deliver my baby without an epidural, and I was completely confident in my ability to be a wonderful mother. I could not wait for our little man to join us!

 The majority of the third trimester was just as pleasant as the second. It wasn’t until about 36 weeks where I just started getting tired….all of the time! It was in these last few weeks of the pregnancy where I perfected my waddle, and people sure loved to comment about it. Even though I resisted it, I was put on bed rest and it turned out to be the best decision that was made. I started to get some more sleep and was better prepared to labor & delivery.

 On Wednesday night, April 6, 2011, I started getting “real” contractions. Not too strong at first (thankfully, I was able to practice my Hypnobirthing breathing techniques). The contractions were 8-10 minutes apart and lasted for about 4 hours then stopped! I was so bummed! I contacted my doula, Marcie, on Thursday to let her know that contractions had started and stopped, but I thought it was going to be soon. Contractions started up again Thursday night and lasted 8 hours this time, but then stopped again! Same thing happened on Friday night. This meant I did not get a lot of sleep these days. 

On Saturday, April 9^th, I met with Marcie to go over my plan. I was getting so tired at this point, I wasn’t sure if I could last much longer. When contractions started up again on Saturday night, they felt a little different, a little more real. This time, the contractions didn’t stop! Marcie came over to our house Sunday morning to gauge where I was at. I quickly progressed from “early labor” to “active labor” Sunday morning, and it because clear we needed to go to the hospital. Even though my intention all along was to do a natural birth, I briefly thought about having an epidural. With no sleep for 4 days, I just wasn’t sure how I was supposed to push a baby out of my body! But Marcie and Matt were both very encouraging, and reminded me about my birth plan. If I could make it 4 days in labor then I definitely could make it a few more hours without any pain medication! They were right, and I am so happy I listened!

When we got to the hospital around 10am on Sunday, I was measuring at 5cm. My water broke as I was changing into a hospital gown, all over the floor in triage! Unfortunately, the charge nurse who was admitting me slipped on the amniotic fluid and fell on my bed right on me! On the upside, contractions were now 3 minutes apart and strong so I barely noticed! Right before moving me to my L&D room, the nurse checked me again (about 20 minutes after the first exam) and I was already at 8cm. They realized I quickly needed to get to the delivery room. Once in the delivery room, I was checked again and I was already at 9cm! My delivery nurse, Kris, was amazing. She quickly got me into my water birthing tub (which was being set up during all of this by Jollina). By the time I was in the tub, I was 10cm and the delivery was upon us.

Dr. Harter, (who is often referred to as "Mr. Midwife" because of his passion for birth, his respect in allowing woman to birth on their terms, his low cesarean rate & baby friendly care), was on-call that day so was constantly in and out of my room checking on me. Even though I was 10cm around noon on Sunday, I still had several hours of pushing ahead of me. Unbeknownst to me at the time, our baby boy was stuck under my pelvis bone. Every time a contraction came, I pushed and pushed (turning purple frequently, which really concerned Matt) but he moved very little. After about 2 hours of pushing, the nurse had me stand up and try and reposition the baby. Let me tell you, standing up out of a comfortable tub of water to meet the reality of gravity once again was not what I wanted this far into the delivery! Matt & the nurse had to physically lift me up and out, and Matt had to help me walk around. The nurse told me to go to the bathroom because my bladder was full and was also blocking the baby from coming out, but I was so afraid that once I sat on the toilet the baby would just fall out. Oh how naive I was as a first time mom! I wasn’t able to empty my bladder (although I tried!) but the movement was enough to change the baby’s position. I got back in the tub and started pushing once again.

  hAt this point, I was so worn out from lack of sleep and I was dehydrated even though I was constantly asking to drink water. Marcie was giving me sips of water to help keep me hydrated. don’t remember much of the pushing, but one thing is still very clear in my mind. The moment the baby’s head crowned was the most intense pain I have ever felt, and I had no idea that it was coming. In fact, once I started feeling the pain, I remember asking the nurse, “What the hell is that??”. She informed me it was the “ring of fire” and wouldn’t last long. I held my tongue, I didn’t want to use profanities, but I could hear Matt in my ear whisper, “Just say it!!” so out came several sentences laced with foul language! And yes, that made me feel better. Just as the nurse had assured, the ring of fire didn’t last long and the baby’s head was now out of my body (still in the water). One more push and the rest of his body came out!

 Lucas was born on a beautiful Sunday afternoon at 3:39pm, a week prior to his due date. 
 He was born in a birthing tub, without pain medication. 
He weighed  8 pounds, 8 ounces & was 20 ¾ inches long. He was born a very healthy, happy baby!


***If you would like to share your story in an effort to encourage other woman, 
please email me at crobbins223@gmail.com

Elliotte's Birth Story Told Through Photographs

(Song credit: Radiohead "Give up the ghost". We listened to it the night before Elle was born.

It will forever remind me of her birth.)

Although these photos are quite intimate and dear to me, I feel they are important to share, to tell the whole story. AND, because I can't go a day without marveling over how faithful and good to me my God was through it all.... I cry probably everyday just thinking about the moment she was born. I can't shut up about it, really. I'm just so over the moon and in love.

As this journey of birthing my baby comes to an end, the journey of bringing light to VBAC birth AND how incredible we as woman have been designed by God to be completely capable of enduring it, that journey has just begun. I have received numerous emails from woman who are on that journey to a more gentler birth, a drug free birth and or a vaginal birth after a previous cesarean birth. My hope is that by watching vbac birth, they might be encouraged & know that they CAN DO IT too. {Your body isn't broken!!} One of the most helpful things for me when I was pregnant was to watch videos like the one I'm sharing, read birth stories and talk to other woman who have also experienced it. I will continue to post articles, information, birth stories and birth videos in an effort to give support to woman who are on the path that I was on when I got pregnant with Elliotte and felt so alone (at first) with my desire to have a natural birth. The more I sought out woman with the same desire as me, the more NORMAL it felt to have this desire. After hearing so many beautiful stories of woman taking back their bodies and birthing on their own terms, the more realistic it felt, and less crazy it felt to have my baby at home. Anyway, that's why it's important for me to post videos like these.

It was such a blessing to have such a good friend shoot my birth photos. {Thank you a million times over, Bobbie.} If Dustin had not called her frantically during labor, we wouldn't have had a single picture. I was too busy laboring to care if anyone came to take photos, but Dustin knows how passionate I am about natural birth and knew I would want to have it documented. Luckily, it was Sunday and she wasn't working.

There is just something special about being surrounded by woman who love you and are all routing for you and crying happy tears with you when your baby is born. I was thrilled to have Bobbie be part of our birth team.

Elliotte's {VBAC} Birth Story:

A friend of mine suggested I sit down and start writing my birth story while it's still fresh in my head.

So here goes. Brew some tea and get a snack because I'm giving you the long version!

All week, I had been going on walks and doing pelvic rocks in the shower while Conrad took his naps, I'd been resting a lot more and had been feeling more tired and irritable. I was having braxton hicks contractions all week but nothing major. I was anticipating going well past my due date. At this point though, I was 39 weeks. Saturday came and I was extremely irritable. Everything that Conrad did annoyed me. I just wanted to be in bed and be alone, so Dustin took Conrad to the park and the store so I could rest. When they got home, I was still feeling really tired and fatigued. I called my parents in tears and they came and took Conrad to their house. My Dad had made a comment that I was about to have this baby very soon, and I disagreed. I just wasn't feeling like myself, I thought. Little did I know, He was so right. I was an emotional wreck. All I could do was clean and cry, for no apparent reason at all. I was folding baby clothes and was upset that the baby's room wasn't put together yet and Dustin sat down on the floor to talk to me and try to sort out why I was such a wreck. It was actually really great that we talked because we hadn't realized just how distant we had both been. We ended up talking, crying and praying for about 2 hours and it was just what we needed as a couple to get on the right page before we welcomed our baby into the world. We were lacking that compassion for one another and that tenderness in our marriage. We were both stressed, excited, anxious, ready, and hadn't realized that we had become so distant or hard hearted towards each other.

Dustin suggested that we go on a long drive and listen to music. I washed my face and put on a comfy dress and he made me some decaf coffee to sip while we drove. It was already getting late and about time to pick up Conrad, so we took the scenic route and drove to my parents house. We listened to an old Radiohead CD in the car. We turned up the music as loud as it would go and held hands. It was exactly what I needed. Just the two of us, in the car, listening to music we love and enjoying the last sweet moments together before we became 4.

We ate my Dad's chicken enchiladas while Conrad played with my grandma and mom and enjoyed my parents company until about 9. We headed home, put the little man in bed and went to bed as usual. I was having little braxton hicks contractions here and there but nothing to get excited about. I woke up at 11:30 and ran to the bathroom throwing up. The food didn't make Dustin sick at all, but it seemed to make me sick, which was weird (now I realize that my body was just getting ready for labor, and that's why i threw up). I went back to bed and woke up at about 4:30 with stronger contractions that I had to lean over my bed to work through. I asked Dustin to time them. They were about 6-8 mins apart. I couldn't go back to sleep. I kept telling myself that this was false labor and not to get obsessed over the contractions. Surly I wasn't in labor, I was only 39 weeks! I told Dustin that if this was "false labor" this was a cruel joke because it was pretty intense.

By 5:00am, I decided that I wanted to go on a walk and be outside so I called my mother in law and she came over in her pj's to wait for Conrad to wake up and then take him to her house for the day. We got into the car and planned to pick up the video camera at my friend Sofia's house before our walk. I had two contractions in the car that rocked my world. I had to turn around in the car and hold onto the head rest, they were so intense. Sofia gave me the camera, was so excited for me she was almost in tears, gave me a hug and we headed to the park for a walk. While we were driving, it started pouring out and the windshield wipers were so annoying I told Dustin to TURN THEM OFF!!!! as i was going through another contraction. It really was the most amazing, rainy, cloudy day. It was perfect out.

I told him to take me to the store instead of a walk. I wanted to buy yogurt, cookie dough and candles. We ran through the rain and hurried into Albertson's. The rain made us both super happy and we both felt like kids. If this was labor, we were excited to be enjoying rain. (We had specifically prayed for rain when we went into labor) Luckily, we were the only people in Albertson's because as we walked through the store, I had two contractions that stopped me dead in my tracks that I needed to moan through in order to survive. At this point, I'm still wondering if this is false labor.....

When we got back home I wanted to vacuum. I would vacuum the living room rug and when I felt a contraction coming, I'd drop to my knees and call Dustin over to rub my lower back. I'd moan through it and breathe deep and slow until it passed, get back up and continue cleaning something else. At one point, as I was putting dishes away, I dropped to the ground on all fours with my head against the stove as he rubbed my back. During a contraction in the living room, I remember Dustin saying, "I know this is hard honey, but really try to praise God for each contraction knowing that it is bring our baby closer to being here with us. You're doing great!" Something suddenly bubbled up inside of me and I had the urge to worship god, so I began praying and praising Him. As I prayed and cried, I could hear Dustin whimpering and crying behind me as he rubbed my back. I had never felt such a strong desire to praise god in my life. It was such an incredibly overwhelming feeling of gratitude and love. I couldn't come up with enough words to describe how incredible my god was. In my mind, Dustin wasn't even in the room, it was just me and Jesus. That moment was one of the sweetest times of my birth.

Dustin realizes that this might be the "real" thing so he called the birth tub company to come set up our tub. He also called our midwifes assistant, Marcie to get her opinion on whether we were in real labor or not. She heard me moaning through a contraction in the back ground and said she was on her way. She arrived shortly after and it was a relief to see her. I wasn't able any longer to move or get up after a contraction. Now they were starting to get more intense. The three of us ended up in my bathroom in the dark, laboring over the birthing ball for the next few hours in silence. It felt best to be on all fours. Marcie would massage my shoulder blades to remind me to relax as Dustin rubbed peppermint lotion on my feet, back and calfs during each rush. Marcie kept reminding me to breathe slow and deep, to moan deep and not raise my voice. All of my contractions were in my back.

I stayed on my hands and knees laboring for a few hours. I remember thinking to myself, "This is exactly why woman get epidurals. This shit is no joke!" (I probably said, "Oh shit!" a good twenty times during labor. Everything said or done in labor is forgiven, my midwife reminded me.) Laboring was the hardest thing I had ever done in my life. I had to remind myself of the woman who birthed naturally, my girlfriends who helped me along on this journey. I told myself, "Janelle did it, Morgan did it, Mae did it, Laura did it.... YOU CAN DO IT TOO. You WILL do it!" Being in labor and in that pain is very isolating because no one in the room feels what you're feeling. But remembering the ladies who had done it too really helped me persevere through it.

Time passed and I wasn't aware of anything but trying to get through each rush. I needed silence and darkness. Dustin got up and called Carrington to come over. He also called Bobbie to come take a few pictures. When Carrington arrived, she anointed my head with oil and prayed over me for a long while. She held my hand and kept telling me I was doing a beautiful job. I remember tears falling on my birthing ball as I breathed through rushes and she prayed and stroked my hair. I was still on all fours in our bedroom with the curtains closed. The room was quiet and peaceful. Shortly after Carrington arrived, Dotty arrived. (One of my favorite memories of Dotty at my birth was when the midwife told me to make my lips loose like a horse when I moaned and Dotty kept making jokes about how excited Conrad would be if I gave birth to a little mini horse.... I laughed so hard I about cried. We kept saying I was giving birth to a baby centaur....) It felt good to have a big belly laugh between contractions. Her job was mostly just being there to pray and encourage me. She was a great part of my birth team.

The tub was almost ready and I was excited to get into it. I needed some relief. As soon as I stepped into the tub and sat down into the warm water, I began to cry because it felt so amazing and instantly took the pain away.

I labored in the tub moaning through contractions for about an hour with Carrington at my side feeding me spoonfuls of honey, giving me sips of cold water every few minutes and wiping my neck and forehead with ice cold rags that she kept dipping into an ice bucket that was on the floor in front of me. I asked Dustin to get into the tub with me at this point. I told Carrington that this was the hardest thing I've ever done and she said, "Well honey, that's why it's called labor. But this pain is beautiful Chelsea. God created our bodies to endure this labor for a reason. You're going to look back at this and realize all of the little things he was busy teaching you through your birth.... I promise, you will be addicted to this pain when it's all over." She kept whispering over and over affirmations about who god is and who I am and how capable I am. She'd say, "After this is all over, there will be nothing you can't accomplish." And, "This is going to change you in ways you never imagined it could." She was my birth guardian. I couldn't have done it without her. While in the tub, because my mouth was so sugary from the apple juice and honey, I requested to brush my teeth which made me feel so much better. I think I was in transition for about 3 hours or so.

During my next contraction, I felt my stomach flex and it caught me by surprise. I looked at Marcie and said, "I just pushed! What the hell? Am I supposed to be pushing right now? Is this normal?" (Marcie never once gave me a vaginal exam. She said that she didn't think it would help me to know how far I was dilated. What if I had done all of this work, and was in labor for hours but only dilated to a 4?) When she arrived though, she said that by the way I was acting, she thought I was probably about at a 6 or further. She just kept telling me to listen to my body, keep going and not worry about dialation. Every time she checked the baby's heart beat, it was loud and fast, so I wasn't worried at all. There wasn't a single time during my labor where I doubted myself or said I wanted to go to the hospital. I never said, "I can't do this!" I never thought about uterine rupture. I never had an ounce of fear. The only thing I could do was get through the next rush and was thankful for the breaks in between them when I could rest. I just had to focus on making it through the contractions. I had prepared myself for a very long labor and a very painful labor.

April, my midwife, arrived and knelt down beside me. Dustin said that as she entered the room, she had this attitude of confidence about her that all of us just fed off of. She wasn't panicked or alarmed, she just assessed where I was at in labor and encouraged me. She held my hand and told me I was doing amazing. She kept saying how strong I was.

My contractions were extremely close together and without anyone telling me to "push" my body just started pushing and I had to push along with it. I was squatting on the side of the tub holding onto the edge and I'd bite a towel, grab onto Carrington's shoulders and bury my head into her neck, hold her hand and just bare down as much as I could. Each time I had a contraction, I could feel my body pushing and urging me to push with it to get the baby out. I didn't expect to yell as loud as I did. I felt like Tyler from Vampire Diaries when he's going through his transformation.... My throat was on fire from yelling. Thank god for the honey and sips of cold water between pushing! (I pushed for an hour and twenty six minutes total which was fine because the baby was slowly making it's way out and stretching the tissue.) I can't imagine yelling like I yelled had I been in a hospital. I'm sure my neighbors would have called the cops thinking surely I was being murdered had I not told them ahead of time!

The backs of my legs were cramping up so badly that the midwife asked me to turn onto my back and try pushing that way to give my legs a rest. As I turned over, I saw my water bag in between my legs. It finally had broken toward the end of the pushing stage. April had a handful of olive oil that she used to lubricate my perineum. She gently put a little on me and It felt nice. Dotty grabbed one leg and squeezed it and Dustin grabbed the other to help get the cramps out. During the next contraction, I remember feeling the "ring of fire" and shouting, "OH SHIT! OH SHIT! It hurts! It burns! Make it stop!!!!!!! Oh Jesus! Get this baby out of me now!" Then I hear gasping and tears. I look over at Dustin and his lip is quivering. April had a flash light shinning so she could see what the baby was doing. I looked down and saw little blond hair floating under the water between my legs. I reached down and touched her head and then before I knew it another contraction came and I had to grab back onto Dotty and Dustin's shoulders for support. The top of the head was coming out. Everyone was quiet but I could hear people starting to cry. I was instructed to wait for the next rush before I pushed the baby out so that I wouldn't tear.

I felt the next rush coming and bared down. The head came out all the way and I started to panic. I was breathing really fast and April said I needed to relax, she showed me how to breathe, I mimicked her breathing, she said I needed to wait for the next contraction and then push the rest of our baby out. There was no cord wrapped around her neck, she looked great, I just needed to push her slowly so I didn't tear. The next rush came and I pushed her all the way out, I put my hands between her arm pits and grabbed onto her bringing her up from under the water. The midwife knew how important it was for Dustin and I to catch our baby and she respected our wishes (she actually encourages parents to catch the baby if they wish to.) I instantly began crying, Dustin was crying, everyone was crying. I kept telling our baby how much I loved her, I thanked her for coming so quickly and I couldn't stop crying. She just blinked and stared into my eyes. She didn't cry, she was just the most peaceful little baby in the whole world. She was perfectly pink. No one needed to resuscitate her, or give her oxygen or stick anything down her throat to suck stuff out. She was just so alert and sweet. (She was born at 1:04 in the afternoon which put me in labor for about 8 hours from start to finish.) We talked to her for a good two minutes until someone shouted, "What is it?" and I remember saying, "Should we look?" I think I was nervous to check. Then I lifted her out of the water and saw her little lady parts! Our baby was a girl! I was so shocked and surprised that she was a girl because I just knew she would be a boy.

We sat in the tub for about 15 minutes with our baby. Everyone in the room sort of gave us privacy and walked into the kitchen, which was nice. The midwife came back over and fed me a cup of yogurt and gave me some ibuprofen. She then made sure the baby's chord had stopped pulsing completely and handed Dustin the scissors to cut it. He cut the chord and went to take a shower while Elliotte (who still hadn't been named) and I got out of the tub and went to take an herbal bath together. She still hadn't cried. She was just so happy and content. It was nice to have her first bath together.

After about a half hour or so we got out we joined Dustin in bed to relax and Elliotte latched to nurse for the first time. April brought me toast and coconut water to drink. Marcie put in a load of towels. The birth tub company had been called to come clean everything up. Everyone was busy helping us get settled with our new baby. April showed Dustin how to weigh the baby and it took about 35 minutes for Marcie and April to complete Elliotte's new born exam. We spent a while in bed talking and deciding on her name as she was being measured and looked over.

Dotty had picked up a birthday cake for Elliotte with a number "0" candle. We all sang her happy birthday to the birthday girl. Everyone except for the midwives had left shortly after that then they gave me my exam to see how my lady parts tolerated Elliotte's delivery. I had a teeny tiny tear that didn't require stitches. Everything went so smoothly and beautifully.

What I loved about laboring at home was that I was surrounded by woman who love me and who were there to encourage me, pray for me, hold my hand, massage my back, dry my tears, give me sips of water, wipe my head, stroke my hair and no one ever had a worried look on their face. They just knew I could do it. No one doubted me. I didn't doubt me. I was prepared for the "pain." I wasn't hooked up to any machines or IV's. There was not a single intervention done. I was told to listen to my body and go with my instincts. I felt more powerful during labor than I've ever felt in my entire life. When I reached down into the water to grab my baby, all of the pain instantly left my memory and she was all that mattered. I loved the whole process of preparing for her birth. My visits with the April, my midwife were so healing and empowering. I loved that she cared about educating me and preparing my heart, body, mind and soul for birthing my baby.

(Dustin's cry face is the best.) 

Photos taken by Roberta rae photography. More photos to come in the next week or so. 

We are so in love with our baby girl. She is doing so well. I am SO thankful that the Lord gave me back what was stolen from me when I birthed my first baby. He redeemed my birth experience back to me and I can't take credit for being "strong." He was totally my strength. He kept my mind focused and not wondering off thinking about the "what if's." He sustained me through each hour and allowed me to birth her just as he promised He would.

Every single thing I prayed for during my pregnancy was given to me. I prayed that she would turn and not be breech and she turned. I prayed that I wouldn't be "border line" diabetic with this pregnancy and I was totally healthy (I credit the Bradley diet). I never got pre-eclampsia when VBAC mom's have a 45% higher chance of getting it, and if you get it, you have no choice but to have a repeat cesarean. I tested negative for step B when last time I had it. She didn't get stuck coming out, she wasn't in danger, she was perfectly safe and I got to birth her at home without FEAR. Her birth was by far the best experience I've ever had. The best day of my life, as cheesy as that sounds.

When everyone left, I told Dustin that I felt like God was shaking his head at me, smiling, saying, "You silly little girl, Chelsea. You thought I wouldn't give you the desires of your heart....I gave you MORE than you ever imagined I would. How dare you doubt me, or doubt my love for you!" That was a humbling moment for me.

She is sleeping well and nursing like a champ. We couldn't be happier. 

Liz's Hospital Water Birth:

Before I introduce you to Liz & Luis, I'd like to start out by saying that had it not been for the two of them sharing this beautiful story during dinner with us one night, months ago, the idea of birthing a "different" way may not have become such a passion of mine. I credit Liz's birth for being one of the biggest reasons why I even got started on this journey and have fought so hard for it. Every time we are around this couple, they manage to blow us away with their wisdom & love for one another. I hope you are blessed by their story of how their sweet baby #2, Daniel came into this world.

"Giving birth is hard work. I’m not trying to romanticize the pain, but I’ve never experienced a more powerful expression of God’s faithfulness and love."


Before my second pregnancy, I expected a regular hospital birth, as I’d had with my first child, Sophia. Looking back on her birth, I was impressed with the sense of being spared the traumas some of my friends went through, namely, emergency c-sections. At times I even felt guilty for how comparatively uncomplicated my labor and delivery was. It certainly had nothing to do with being informed.

I was induced early on a Thursday morning. The decision itself was oddly nonchalant and at my doctor’s suggestion. To my shock, however, in the hours between the Pitocin drip and the epidural, I could not speak or make a sound. The contractions came suddenly and with such force I could hardly breathe. My husband, Luis, was next to me, but all I could ask of him was not to speak to me or touch me. I neither knew what I needed from him nor how to communicate it. I stared at the clock counting or not counting seconds and tightening every muscle in my body. It was all I could do to suppress a sense of panic. We were simply unprepared. So the epidural was sweet relief and a return to sanity. The nurses told me to wait to push. The doctor arrived, and Sophia was born a few minutes later. Being unable to feel anything from the waist down made her appearance utterly surreal. All of a sudden she was in my arms. It was mid-afternoon, about eight hours since being admitted to the hospital.

Not long after my daughter’s birth, a subtle discrepancy entered my mind. I thanked God for my labor progressing relatively quickly and Sophia’s healthy arrival. There was never any doubt in His sovereignty over the way things unfolded, yet I did not believe I would be able to endure labor without pain medication. I depended on it for the next time—a realization that would later catch me by surprise. The question of whom or what would see me through such a daunting experience was not something I thought to explore. Instead, what came naturally was to praise medical science’s ability to block pain and leave it at that.

Drawing strength from Luis’s support and feeling the urge to push, these I felt the loss of, but I was also relieved to have bypassed hours of Pitocin contractions. Still—it bothered me—the numbness in exchange for body awareness, sensation, and the vulnerability of relying on the support of my husband and others. It takes trust to surrender oneself to the prospect of pain, and trust needs a foundation. A part of me yearned for this, but there was also fear.

             Not long after I became pregnant with my second child, Daniel, I was confronted with the possibility of a birth experience much different than my first. It was not a happy thought. I lacked maternity insurance until my twenty-sixth week of pregnancy, and we could not afford the interim cash-patient fees for doctors on my provider list. Meanwhile, every doctor I spoke with considered me a liability for not receiving maternity care sooner.

            This is where things began to change for me. A friend suggested I visit her midwife, April Kermani, and, to my relief, she had no qualms with seeing me though I was over twenty weeks pregnant. For the better part of an hour, I sat on her sofa confessing my desire to give birth free of the interventions I had undergone with Sophia. Try as I might to take a different route, I feared it would likely be in vain. How foolish it would appear to make another attempt, fail, and, in the court of public opinion, suffer needlessly (as if medical science had found a way around the sacrifice a woman yields herself to in childbirth, and the elevation of a simpler, wholly felt experience were mere idealism, perhaps even irresponsible). I wanted to have the courage at least to try.

April referred me to Dr. Harter, a supporter of natural birthing and water births. The idea of a water birth was quite a leap, but it appealed to me immediately. I began reading extensively. Ina May Gaskin's Guide to Childbirth and Birthing from Within was indispensable. I watched documentaries and filmed births. Ultimately, all this equipped me not only with an understanding of what labor and birth was and how to cope but, more importantly, with the capacity to trust: first, in the way God created my body and, secondly, in His ability to see me through whatever happened. I was no longer bound by the fear of not being capable of enduring the journey before me. This brought a quiet sense of peace. It was also exciting! Luis and I decided we would prepare for a hospital water birth with the support of our doula, Naomi O’Callaghan, and Dr. Harter.

The evening before Daniel was born, my contractions began to come at thirty to twenty-five-minute intervals. The next day I was apprehensive about going to the hospital too early, but by 1:00 P.M. something told me we should go—now! Once we were in the car my contractions had become really intense (a relative term, I came to discover) and I wished we’d left sooner! We walked through the parking lot, to the hospital front desk, and up the elevator, pausing every few minutes with each rush (as Ina May refers to them). I buried by face in Luis’s chest and leaned into him. He was a tremendous comfort to me. Dr. Harter happened to be making his way out of the maternity ward as we entered. By the look on my face alone he could tell I was far enough along to be assigned a room. An hour later Naomi finished setting up the birthing tub. Being in the water made me feel weightless and it relieved some of the pressure. But the next couple of hours were by far the most difficult. Naomi’s knowing presence, encouragement, and soothing touch were invaluable. She truly was a birth guardian, affirming the truth by her presence. I concentrated on letting go as best as I could so each contraction worked to greatest effect. It was getting to the point where I couldn’t keep my focus, and I didn’t think I could take any more. Suddenly, my water broke, and I felt Daniel’s head fall. The shock of sensation sent me to my knees from a reclined position. The urge to push was irresistible, but the nurses told me to wait until the doctor arrived. Naomi softly told me to listen to my body. I remember whispering that I didn’t think I could wait for Dr. Harter. And she assured me I didn’t need a doctor to have a baby. Like it or not, I had to push. After two, maybe three, pushes Daniel was born. Dr. Harter arrived in time to catch him with his bare hands and place him in my arms. It was 6:30 in the evening.

I’ll never forget the sight of my baby boy’s dark eyes looking up at me. He was alert and calm and absolutely beautiful. It may have been a hospital, but the space was very private and protected. I think we all felt a deep sense of wonder for this new little life entering the world.

In the weeks that followed, Luis and I would look at each other and marvel at the whole experience. Giving birth is hard work. I’m not trying to romanticize the pain, but I’ve never experienced a more powerful expression of God’s faithfulness and love. It was an incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring gift, and it has given me a concrete metaphor for the way God works in my life. When I feel that I’m at the brink, I’m brought back to the response of Simon Peter: “Lord, to whom shall [I] go? You have the words of eternal life…” I have more to draw from when circumstances seem unbearable because He has always been faithful. In the midst of insurmountable circumstances, He causes me to grow in ways I would not have otherwise, had He spared me from difficulty and utter dependence on Him. This is one way He brings forth life.

Thanks for allowing me to share my story! 

Anna's Hospital Birth Story:

"They allowed my husband and I an entire hour of alone time before 

even weighing our precious son."

My birth story didn't go exactly as I had planned: I had prepared for a midwife assisted, natural, hospital birth. I ended up having a doctor-assisted, hospital birth with an epidural. But I can honestly say that I had a wonderful experience. 

RJ (my husband) and I live a fairly "natural" lifestyle. We both surf and run, we shop for organic foods, grow our own garden, and keep chickens. I didn't eat any sugar my entire first trimester and regularly took probiotics. Along those same lines RJ really wanted me to labor and deliver our son at one of the local birthing centers. There are two midwife ran centers in our area and one of them in particular is very highly recommended. However, a friend of mine had recently had a terrifying experience at the birthing center which resulted in her having an emergency c-section. Her experience, along with my own natural fears (Who among us isn't freaked out about contractions? All our lives we hear about how terribly painful they are and yet no one can adequately describe them. I'll be honest, I was a bit freaked out!) I decided that I would rather have my first child at a hospital and then consider a birth center or home birth for subsequent children.

However, I knew that I wanted to have a natural childbirth. And I knew that if I wanted to go natural in a hospital I would need to be my own advocate. So I met with a friend who is a NICU nurse at the hospital I would be delivering at, and had her give me the scoop on all the different doctors and midwives in the area. I highly recommend doing this! She was extremely helpful and through her recommendation I found a fantastic local doctor/midwife team. My OB is the best baby doctor in town. He has the highest rate of natural births, he is excellent at turning a breech baby and he has delivered two of my friend baby's breech, but he has no bedside manner. Some people thought I was crazy to deal with his abrupt nature and lacking social skills, but I figured I would rather have a vaginal hospital birth than sweet pillow talk during monthly visits with a midwife. And sure enough, I was particularly grateful for his expertise when my baby was breech at 37 weeks. Rather than immediately schedule my c-section he instructed me on a variety of poses to do at home and recommended a chiropractor to help the baby flip, and it worked!
RJ and I also took child birthing classes from a local doula. We enjoyed her classes because they focused on Bradley techniques for natural labor, however, she also informed us about c-sections. I appreciated her wisdom in spending time educating us on the reasons when a c-section really is or is not necessary, what questions to ask the doctors and nurses before going into a c-section, how to avoid a c-section, and what to expect during and after if you have to have a c-section. Being prepared for all scenarios felt very empowering.

I finally went into labor on April 14th (2 days after my due date) at midnight. RJ and I were in bed sleeping. He had a terrible case of the stomach flu and had spent the better part of the evening in the bathroom, so when I woke up to pee and my plug came out I didn't want to wake him. I knew I needed to go back to sleep, but just that morning my midwife had told me I was still shut-up-tight and not to expect much action yet, so I was exciting things were finally happening. Just an hour or so later my water broke, and the contractions started immediately. They were strong, painful, and concentrated in my back. I didn't want to wake my sick husband so I paced the living room by myself until my mom showed up at 6am. By the time mom came the contractions were a steady 7-8 minutes apart and painful. I felt as though a machete was being hacked into my back and the only thing that help relieve the pain was counter pressure. I would stand with my forehead against the wall deeply moaning while a family member pushed into my lower back with their fists - I had bruises for weeks.

Finally the contractions were 5 minutes apart and we went to the hospital. (Next time: I will stay home longer.) At this point I had been in consistent, painful labor for 10 hours. When I got there the nurses immediately wanted to hook me up to a monitor and keep me there, but my husband insisted that I only be monitored once per hour rather than continuously. They put up a bit of a fight but they eventually conceded. I was so thankful RJ had taken the time to educate himself too rather than just leave it all up to me.

When I arrived at the hospital I was only 4 centimeters. Having labored for so long already I was pretty disappointed. (Next time: I won't let them tell me how far along I am. It messes with your head.) I was even more disappointed when I learned an emergency was going to keep my doctor AND my midwife away and unable to assist me throughout the entire experience. Immediately I knew we need the nurses to understand exactly what type of birth I wanted. RJ pulled the head nurse aside and calmly explained to her that I desperately wanted a natural, vaginal birth. At first she seemed skeptical because I was a first-time mom and first-timers always have longer births, but by being clear, concise, and very polite my husband won her over and from there on out she was fantastic. She helped me change positions, get into the shower, use the birth ball during monitoring, etc. Then after 14 hours of back labor when I started crying for drugs she actually tried to keep me going naturally. She encouraged me to continue on with my plan, focus on the baby, try a new position, etc. I continued demanding drugs. I finally lost all composure and sobbed at my husband to get me an epidural. He got the nurse and she made me look her straight in the eye and ask for it before she called it in.
An hour later I was resting and feeling much, much better. My epidural had what they call a "hole". There was a small section of my back that still felt almost everything. In a way I liked it because I could feel that my body was still working to get my baby out. Although you wouldn't know it considering I was still only 4 centimeters dilated! The nursing staff came in and said the doctor wanted to start me on pitocin. Then they actually asked me if that was okay. Bless them! Although I was also initially again pitocin everything had changed. I had endured 15 hours of continuous back labor and seen little "results". I was desperate to see my baby and I agreed to start the drug. I should have known better.
 
30 minutes later a group of doctors and nurses came rushing into my room. They quickly strapped a gas mask on my face and pushed my family members aside. The pitocin had put the baby into distress. Again, my fantastic nurse immediately assured me that a c-section was the last possible scenario and helped calm me down. After the emergency moment had passed they took me off the pitocin. The on-call doctor came in to again assure me that a vaginal birth was his preference, as well as mine, and he would continue to do whatever he needed to avoid a c-section.

Eight long hours later I was finally dilated to ten centimeters and ready to push. It had been 22 hours since my water broke and all I wanted to do was see my baby. Unfortunately, I still had to push for an entire hour. But I actually have very fond memories of pushing. My entire family (husband, sister, mom and dad) were in the room. The nurses were encouraging and helpful, and the atmosphere exuberant. And the most surprising thing of all, the doctor actually stayed in the room for almost forty-five minutes patiently waiting to catch the baby. He never made me feel rushed or nervous about getting things done quickly. He was calm and professional and totally supportive.

                      .  My beautiful, blond-hair boy was born shortly after midnight on April 15th - sharing a birthday with the aunt who watched his arrival. My husband cut the cord, my mom and dad cried, and the fantastic hospital staff immediately put my sweet little man on my chest. Then they cleared out of the way, cleaned me up, and didn't disturb us for over an hour. They allowed my husband and I an entire hour of alone time before even weighing our precious son. They didn't bat an eye when I told them I didn't want him receiving any shots and they assisted in teaching me how to nurse.

I didn't have a perfect birth. There are things I will do differently next time (if there is a next time. Adoption is my new birth story - we are Ethiopia bound). But I love our birth story, Landon and mine. It's the story of our start, our beginning - his little life and my journey into motherhood. In two years I've learned that motherhood is a bumpy, twisty ride full or unexpected surprises. I had to learn to go with the punches from the very onset. Landon's birth didn't go exactly the way I had initially hoped, but both of us were blessed to start this journey with a fantastic support system - hospital staff included.