Our homebirth story

After a routine, completely uneventful, atypical pregnancy (Morning sickness? What's that? Wait, my feet aren't supposed to fit into my regular shoes?), I began to feel uncomfortable at exactly 39 weeks. Even though I felt the overwhelming urge to clean and bake, an urge which had me, in the previous days, vacuuming walls and washing curtains, could not pull me off the couch. I was just so tired. And, to add to that, I couldn't get comfortable for the life of me.

The night I hit 39 weeks, I got my first actual bout of heartburn/reflux. Nothing tasted right and I just felt this burning sensation in my chest. I know, I know, cry me a river and all that nonsense, but when you're hungry, it's not fun. After dinner, A and I went for a walk because the weather was really nice; one of those rare treats that May threw at us here in the Midwest after a lot of cold days. Lying in bed, I began to have what I would describe as period-like cramps that came in small waves. They weren't regular and didn't last terribly long, so I fell asleep around 11.

A few hours later, I woke up just uncomfortable again. No real explanation like the baby kicking a lot or a backache. I just did not want to lie in bed any longer. I also was hungry. Like, eat your arm kind of hungry. So, I grabbed my body pillow, called to the cat and went down on the couch to watch Gilmore Girls until, hopefully, I fell asleep. This was at about 2 a.m.

At 3:11 a.m. (Yes, I looked at the clock), I felt and heard a pop. I knew exactly what had happened and rushed to get off the couch before any fluid started to drain. One of A's biggest fears (In a creeped-out sort of way) about having the baby at home was that I would get amniotic fluid all over the couch. I guess my telling him that one of my friends' water broke while she was sitting on her couch watching TV didn't help matters... Anyway, in my rush, I think I threw the cat halfway across the room and sprinted/waddled through the living room, dining room and kitchen to get to the bathroom with fluid pouring down my legs the whole time. I was soaked, right down to my socks. As I was waiting for the tide to slow a little bit, I began to shiver because, naturally, the weather had gotten bi-polar overnight and dropped into the high 40s. The heat was on, but we program the thermostat to drop to 62 overnight, so it was chilly in the house.

I quietly crept upstairs for a wardrobe change, not wanting to wake A if I didn't have to in case he still could go to work that day. I went back down to the living room and sat on the couch (On top of a towel or two, of course!) and watched some more TV. No contractions yet.

An hour later, the contractions started. They were fairly regular, about 2 minutes apart, but pretty mild in intensity and they didn't last very long. I was able to walk around and stay on the couch during them, so I wasn't starting to consider calling my midwife yet.

By 5 a.m., the intensity and duration had kicked up a little bit, and the contractions had spaced out to around 5 minutes apart. I no longer could sit on the couch or a chair; I had to sit on my exercise ball or kneel next to it and lean over. I also threw up for the first of a good 10 times during my labor. As the hour progressed, the intensity continued from what I would consider mild to mildly intense (Little did I know there's a little thing called transition that knocks your ideas of contraction pain out of the water). I made the decision to call my midwife, Brande, at 6 a.m. to give her a heads-up, since she would not only have to find an available birth assistant, but also get her kids taken care of and drive the 40-ish minutes to our house. We had an appointment scheduled for the following day, so she didn't expect to hear from me so soon. She told me to keep timing them and call her back later to give her an update.

It was only about 30 minutes before A's alarm was set to go off, so I decided to wake him and tell him I was in labor. I walked into our room (All the way upstairs!) and said, "You might want to e-mail someone at work and let them know you won't be in today." He just opened his eyes, stretched and said, "Yay!" in a pretty flat voice. From someone who takes a good 45 minutes to be able to process anything after waking up, this was a lot of enthusiasm!!

While A showered, I sat on my ball, bouncing through contractions, and timed them. They still were about 5 minutes apart and increasing in intensity. From this point on, I don't really know how long they were lasting; I was more focused on the fact that I really wanted to lie down, but couldn't because it hurt too much. Around 7 a.m., we called Brande back and told her she might want to start getting things together to get to our house. We told her there wasn't a big rush even though my water had broken, but knowing it would take a while to get things settled and get out here, we wanted her to have plenty of notice.

We spent the next hour or so timing contractions. By this time, my stomach was completely empty and I was just throwing up either the water I'd just had to drink or stomach acid. Fun times. We tried to watch some TV (Cops is a good way to take your mind off labor. At least slightly) to pass the time until Brande got there.

She arrived around 8:30 a.m. and told us that she had two assistants on their way, but they wouldn't make it until nearly noon. She had a backup assistant from the next town over, but she was only available until noon. So, my labor was going to be a game of Musical Birth Assistants. She got her things set up and started doing her checks of things such as the timing of contractions, my blood pressure and the baby's heart rate. We had decided that we didn't want to have any progress checks unless there was a need for them, so I had no idea where in my labor I was at this point. As we were discussing the checks, Brande said there had been some kind of hang-up with my GBS (Group-Beta Strep) test and the lab. She hadn't gotten the results back and, as I was in labor, she had to call the lab that morning for the results. I was GBS positive. Once we hit the 12-hour mark in my labor, we would need to start talking options.

The next several hours were spent drinking water, sitting on my exercise ball, walking around the dining room and going to the bathroom. One of the birth assistants joked that I was giving them a pajama pants fashion show since, thanks to the amniotic fluid, I was changing pants at least every couple of hours. I also continually alternated between cranking up the heat, wearing a sweatshirt and wrapping up in a blanket and downing water because I was hot.

Around noon, A went out to get pizza for himself and the birth team. I was not hungry, and even if I had felt like eating, the intermittent vomiting would have kept me from eating anything. I think they all felt bad I wasn't eating or they thought they would make me queasy because they all ate in the kitchen, leaving me to labor under the watchful eye of the cat.

As 3 p.m. rolled around with no end to my labor in sight, Brande, A and I started to talk about our options with regards to the GBS. Since GBS can cause pneumonia-like symptoms in newborns without the mother ever knowing she's positive, we decided against going just the Hibiclens route. As much as I did not want to be hooked up to an IV, even for a short time, I didn't want to risk the baby's health. We made the decision to check my progress and, if I wasn't nearing the end of labor, we would do a combination of the Hibiclens and the IV antibiotics.

Brande laid some pads on the living room floor and checked me. After 12 hours since my water broke, I was sitting at 6 cm dilated and 100 percent effaced. Not far enough along to avoid the antibiotics. As she looked at my arms to find a good vein for the IV, I warned Brande that the highly visible veins of my left arm are deceptive. They aren't as easy to access as  they may seem. She decided to attempt the insertion on my right arm. I hate needles, but do fine as long as I don't see them going into my skin, so I looked away. I noticed that my arm felt really cold as she started the drip. It turns out that my vein was so small that the needle slipped out and the antibiotics were pooling under my skin, creating a raised area. The left arm was more successful!

Around 6 p.m., my contractions began to come more quickly together and more intensely. I finally felt that I had to start vocalizing the way the birth assistants had been encouraging me to for hours. Until that point, I barely made a peep. But I suddenly felt I needed low groans in order to get through contractions.

The birth assistants also tried to get me to get my butt off the exercise ball, but it was the only thing that helped me feel better. They tried to convince me that, since I was in transition, a new position would help. They wanted me to take a shower or go for a walk or get down on all fours. Finally, they got me to, with each contraction, stand up, lean on A's shoulders and sway to help open up my hips. They left us with this new position and went to get dinner.

The team returned around 7, right around the four-hour mark beyond which I would need another dose of antibiotics. Brande checked me again (A really fun experience while in transition, I can assure you!), and I was at an 8 and a -1 station. I was actually really discouraged that four hours had only gotten me two more centimeters. The team all assured me that I was progressing nicely and doing really well. I still would need more antibiotics, though. Since I could not sit in a chair long enough to get the drip, Brande had to hang the IV bag from a nail over the doorway between the living and dining rooms while I swayed beneath.

Around 8:30, the birth assistants convinced me to give a bath a try. Our water heater, while it's one of the on-demand types, doesn't have the proper size of ventilation pip, so it kicks off more quickly than it should. So, we couldn't get a full tub of warm water without boiling some on the stove! It took a while, but I finally was in the tub.

Surprisingly, even though I couldn't tolerate the same position while on the couch, sitting in the tub really felt good. I laid in the water for a while as A poured water over my stomach. Brande could see that my contractions were starting to pick up again, so she encouraged me to begin pushing whenever I felt the need. She put some wash cloths on my perineum to help discourage any potential tearing.

Suddenly, around 9 p.m., I felt the urge to push. I kept pushing with every contraction, gripping the sides of the tub so hard my knuckles turned white. I must have looked like I was in crazy pain because A's eyes would just get really wide every time I pushed. I knew I was making progress because I could feel it, but I was getting discouraged that I wasn't making more progress after pushing for about an hour. Brande said I needed to change positions, even just for a little while, to help encourage the baby to turn and get out faster. She had me squat in the tub as I pushed, hoping gravity would do its thing. She also told me to periodically reach down and see what I could feel; all I could feel was hair and the baby's head, so I knew he'd have a full head of hair at birth.

As we approached another four-hour mark, we had to start discussing more antibiotics. Brande had me get out of the tub and we made our way into the living room where the team had set up everything for the baby's arrival. While I was walking, I just knew that it wouldn't be much longer. I could feel the baby turn and make his way farther down, and I told Brande this. She encouraged me to get into whatever position I felt necessary, whether that be on the couch, the floor or standing. I chose to kind of squat in the middle of the floor and use people's arms as support.

I pushed for what felt like forever and felt like the lower half of my body was ripping away from the rest of me. Brande said this was the proverbial "ring of fire," as she could see him crowning. She told me to reach down, and had A look, and I could feel that the top of his head and forehead were out. I was getting there! A few more pushes later and his whole head was out. Now I just had to get past the shoulders. Once those were out, the rest of him just kind of slid out and he was born!

A few seconds later, the placenta followed and I just felt the biggest sense of relief in my life. It was as if my body had been holding something in for so long that just finally let go. I felt great!

Brande handed the baby to me and I just looked down at him to find a whole mop of dark hair. I knelt there looking at him, waiting for the cord to stop pulsating so A could cut it, and couldn't believe that this little person had actually come out of me. It was the most amazing feeling in the world.

The nearly 24 hours with no food must have gotten to me, along with the 2.5 hours of pushing, as I fainted while trying to get on the couch. I came to a few seconds later to one of the birth assistants holding the baby (He had been in my arms when I went down, but she scooped him up before I fell) and A and Brande trying to help me up. They got me on the couch and handed the baby back to me.

As the team got things cleaned up and ready for his vitals checks, A and I enjoyed the gorgeous little gift we had been given. I stroked his hair and his cheeks and stared into his blue eyes. A looked at him and said, "He looks like The Dude (only, we used his real name)." It was our secret, maybe-we'll-name-him-this-but-let's-not-tell-anyone-in-case-he-doesn't-fit-it name. It also was the only boy name that we could agree we both liked, so it was fortuitous that he looked the part.

To help get my blood sugar back up since I had passed out, I laid on the couch and ate some zucchini bread and drank a glass of orange juice while everyone else checked his vitals. He passed both rounds of APGAR with a perfect 10. The scale Brande travels with is one of the old-school bar scales that you have to hook a hammock of fabric up to, so A got to hold the scale while they weighed The Dude. Once that was done, they handed him back to me so we could work on nursing.

Over the next hour, the team cleaned up, including throwing a load of laundry in the wash, and monitored me and The Dude. Once we all seemed to be doing well, they left us on our own to get settled in as a family, with Brande promising to come back in two days to check on us. A settled on the floor with the cat, while Ian fell asleep on my chest on the couch for a well-deserved night's sleep.

I know a lot of people are scared of homebirths and the risks they may pose, but I honestly can say I would not have had this delivery any other way. It was so nice to be able to labor the way I wanted, in the comfort of my own home (My own bathroom, access to my own clothes and my own TV were awesome), and I didn't once feel rushed to progress by anyone other than myself. It also was really, really nice to sleep in my own environment and be able to have a full night's sleep without anyone bothering us.


The Dude
11:31 p.m. May 18, 2011
8 lbs., 20 inches
Born at home!