"They" say that after awhile, you forget what it's like to have a baby, and that's why people have more kids.
I didn't forget. I remembered throughout my whole pregnancy what it was like having Annabelle. I remembered being "late," having to deal with tests, suggested induction, contractions, and pushing, and the whole emotional roller coaster that went with it. I didn't like giving birth to Annabelle. I didn't want to give birth again. But, I did want another baby. So there we were.
I'm going to write up another post about why we chose a home birth. But for now, just know that it was thoroughly discussed, researched, and prayed about. And know that I don't think for one second that it's for everyone, and I don't think for one second that I (or other people who have home births) am better than someone who chooses a hospital, or that my birth is somehow more important, life-changing, or valid. Also note that, because of IL state laws regarding CPMs (certified professional midwives), my midwife has to remain anonymous in this post, both by name and in photos.
That said, we made our decision to have a home birth late in the game--around 34 weeks. I decided to do concurrent care with Carle, meaning I would keep going to my appointments there and also have my midwife come do her prenatals at our home with us. (I actually discussed home birth and our decision with a few of the Carle midwives, and they were incredibly informative and supportive. More on that in another post).
So. Oliver's birth story starts, I guess, on Monday. My friend Dominique came over, and we went for a long walk around our neighborhood. Long being like, a mile...not that long, but for someone 39 weeks pregnant it felt very long. Monday night, I started having what I thought were real contractions. I wasn't sure though--they could have been just strong braxton-hicks contractions. I had a glass of wine and went to bed. Unfortunately, wine sometimes ends up keeping me up at night with a racing mind, and that's what happened then. Bummer...so much for relaxing. Thankfully I didn't have any real major contractions overnight, and pretty much just stayed in bed.
Tuesday morning, I finally got out of bed after tossing and turning all night. Annabelle had woken up at 4:45 and wouldn't go back to sleep, so I just gave up around 6:30 and got up with her. I started having some more contractions, and decided they were "real." They were 10-15 minutes apart when I got up, and after a quick surveillance of our kitchen, I decided to pack up Annabelle and go to Meijer to get food. If I was going to have a baby today, we needed food in the house. I had an appointment scheduled at Carle at 10:00, so I called to cancel that. (Side note: the receptionist seriously thought I was crazy. She asked why I was canceling and I told her I was in labor. She was baffled that I did not want to come in and get checked out. Confirmed that like 3 times, and there was lots of awkward silence on the other end of the line. It was funny). So, off we went. I labored all around Meijer, wondering if I was crazy for being there. By the time we got done around 9:15, my contractions were about 7 minutes apart. I decided to head over to the chiropractor to make sure that things were all lined up and ready to have a baby. Annabelle promptly fell asleep in the car on the way home, and we got home a little after 10:00. My contractions had gone to 5-7 minutes apart, but really weren't painful. I had to stop walking through some of them, but pretty much just kept going about my day. I put Belle down for an early nap, unloaded groceries, cleaned up the house, and decided to text a group of friends to let them know I was in labor, and to start praying.
Then I went upstairs to start setting up our room. We planned on putting the birth pool right next to our bed, so I got out the tarp and started blowing up the pool with our stupid hand-held pump. Note to self: buy an electric pump for the next birth. I was sweating up a storm and contracting like crazy getting that thing pumped up. Jason planned on taking the afternoon off since I thought this was probably "it," and he came home around 11 and (thankfully) took over the pumping-up-the-pool job. I got a few more things set up, and then Annabelle woke up and I got her lunch. It was around noon then, and my contractions were about 3 minutes apart. But, the weird thing was that they really weren't that bad. I don't know if it's because I had other things to focus on, or they really just weren't that bad. But, who cares. I was doing fine. I texted my birth team (midwife, assistant, doula, and photographer) and suggested that maybe they head over in the next hour or so. I called my sister and suggested she leave in the next hour to come take care of Annabelle. I texted my mom and said that probably by dinner time they should think about coming down. Annabelle woke up right around lunch time, and I told her I was in labor. She was very excited!
Once we decided to have a home-birth, I started preparing Annabelle as best as I could. I bought books about home birth, watched natural birth videos on YouTube, practiced yelling and moaning and all the noises I thought I might make in labor. We talked about what mommy would be doing, how mommy would look, and act. We talked about not being afraid of mommy crying or being mad, and how labor is a LOT of work to get a baby out. She really seemed to get what was going to happen, and was amazing when it actually did happen.
I really, truly thought I was going to be in labor til at least the night. I was in such a good mood, and was talking, laughing, and fully functioning in between contractions.
My midwife was the first to arrive, around 12:30, I think.
She checked me, and said I was a stretchy 3. I told her to "stretch away," and she said she really could only stretch me to 4cm. That was fine with me! She listened to Oliver, and he was as happy as a clam. We went back downstairs, and then my midwife's assistant/doula, arrived, followed shortly afterwards by my friend Shannon (who is a doula-in-training), and my friend Lydia, who was going to take photos. Lydia arrived around 1:00...I told her that she could probably leave and come back because I really wasn't all that dilated and thought it would be awhile. Thankfully, she stayed. We all chit-chatted between contractions, and I got a bowl of cereal to eat.
It took me about a half an hour to eat that dumb bowl of cereal because I just kept having contractions and couldn't chew or swallow. I was determined to finish it, though, thinking I'd need the energy for what was sure to be hours and hours of labor (hindsight eye-roll) and stayed downstairs until I did. Meanwhile Annabelle was running around talking to everyone, and offering to rub my back or get me water during contractions (SO sweet!).
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| Sterilizing tools |
She checked me, and said I was a stretchy 3. I told her to "stretch away," and she said she really could only stretch me to 4cm. That was fine with me! She listened to Oliver, and he was as happy as a clam. We went back downstairs, and then my midwife's assistant/doula, arrived, followed shortly afterwards by my friend Shannon (who is a doula-in-training), and my friend Lydia, who was going to take photos. Lydia arrived around 1:00...I told her that she could probably leave and come back because I really wasn't all that dilated and thought it would be awhile. Thankfully, she stayed. We all chit-chatted between contractions, and I got a bowl of cereal to eat.
It took me about a half an hour to eat that dumb bowl of cereal because I just kept having contractions and couldn't chew or swallow. I was determined to finish it, though, thinking I'd need the energy for what was sure to be hours and hours of labor (hindsight eye-roll) and stayed downstairs until I did. Meanwhile Annabelle was running around talking to everyone, and offering to rub my back or get me water during contractions (SO sweet!).
By 2:00, things started to get more real. I had a couple of mini crying sessions after particularly hard contractions, but, I still didn't think I was anywhere close to delivery. I started vocalizing through contractions more, and needed to have some physical support (back rub or a hand to hold) to get through the contractions and remain in control. I also had a really tearful moment of realizing that this was "it" and Annabelle wouldn't be my one-and-only anymore. I just wanted to grab her and hold on to her in that moment forever.
I knew I wanted to get upstairs and be in my own space, so we all moved upstairs. Jason told me later that he was still making coffee while I was going upstairs, and he offered some to Hannah, joking that we'd be there all night. He really didn't think we were that close, either. She said, "Um, actually she's probably going to have this baby in the next hour." He said he pretty much dropped the coffee, said, "What the hell?!" and ran up the stairs. :) I turned on my music, and my "team" started taking turns reading scriptures to me during contractions. I loved that. It gave me words to hang on to until each particular contraction was over.
I think it was going up the stairs that really got things moving. I decided to get in the pool around 2:30, and that felt SO good.
I was shocked--I hated being in the water for Belle's labor, but this felt like it flipped a switch in my brain for a second so that I could regain a clear mind and focus on what I was doing. My contractions were on top of each other at that point, but during the short gap that I got in between, I was still talking to Annabelle, and was pretty aware of my surroundings.
Jason took his place in front of my head and I gripped his hands for dear life during contractions the last 45 minutes.
Annabelle was alternating between pouring water on my back, talking to me, and playing with puzzles. She was such a sweetie. I kept looking at her full of bittersweet emotions, knowing that our special one-on-one relationship was about to end as I knew it.
I knew I wanted to get upstairs and be in my own space, so we all moved upstairs. Jason told me later that he was still making coffee while I was going upstairs, and he offered some to Hannah, joking that we'd be there all night. He really didn't think we were that close, either. She said, "Um, actually she's probably going to have this baby in the next hour." He said he pretty much dropped the coffee, said, "What the hell?!" and ran up the stairs. :) I turned on my music, and my "team" started taking turns reading scriptures to me during contractions. I loved that. It gave me words to hang on to until each particular contraction was over.
I was shocked--I hated being in the water for Belle's labor, but this felt like it flipped a switch in my brain for a second so that I could regain a clear mind and focus on what I was doing. My contractions were on top of each other at that point, but during the short gap that I got in between, I was still talking to Annabelle, and was pretty aware of my surroundings.
Jason took his place in front of my head and I gripped his hands for dear life during contractions the last 45 minutes.
Annabelle was alternating between pouring water on my back, talking to me, and playing with puzzles. She was such a sweetie. I kept looking at her full of bittersweet emotions, knowing that our special one-on-one relationship was about to end as I knew it.
Once I got in the pool, I had a small melt-down in my brain. I suddenly knew what was coming. I realized that I had to push my baby out soon. I'm not sure what finally made me realize that I was going to have this baby soon, but I did, and I remembered every iota of chaos, pain, and overwhelming-ness that I felt with Annabelle. I kept trying to get rid of those thoughts, but they just would.not.leave. At this point, I started crying out, "NOOO!! I don't want to!" during the peaks of contractions. Everyone kept encouraging me to say "Yes" instead. I couldn't do it. Nothing in me wanted to do what I knew I had to do next.
At 3:04, my water broke.
And at 3:04, all hell broke loose in my poor mind, remembering the chaos at the end of Annabelle's birth.
Thankfully, the song "Oceans," my birth "theme song," came on right then. Total God moment. I just started singing those lyrics quietly, and it calmed my racing mind. Lydia turned it on repeat for me.
Thankfully, the song "Oceans," my birth "theme song," came on right then. Total God moment. I just started singing those lyrics quietly, and it calmed my racing mind. Lydia turned it on repeat for me.
Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed, and you won't start now.
I will call upon your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise my soul will rest in your embrace
For I am yours, and you are mine.
My sister walked in at that point to take over with Belle and make sure she saw her brother come into the world--she barely made it!
I pretty much immediately started feeling pushy, and knewI had to start bearing down. This was the part I was afraid of. Thankfully, the atmosphere in the room was so amazingly calm. It was not stressful, or chaotic, or scary feeling around me, like it was when I was birthing Annabelle. But, I was still scared. I was so, so scared of feeling that pain that comes with pushing a baby out. There is no avoiding it unless you choose pain relief. There was absolutely nothing I could do to get around it. I wanted to escape. I wanted to escape So.Badly. But instead, I surrendered. I knew it would be painful. I knew it would be overwhelming. I knew it would be probably awful feeling. I knew that it would get this baby out.
So, I pushed. Lightly at first. My body wasn't pushing for me yet. I just started bearing down slowly through the peaks of contractions. I was vocalizing really loudly through the hard parts, but thankfully was able to keep my vocalizations mostly under control still. But then a few minutes later, the real pushing kicked in. The there-is-no-way-to-stop-this-train pushing. The part I was so afraid of, the part that I had been mentally trying to prepare for my entire pregnancy.
I screamed.
I screamed the kind of blood-curdling scream that you hear in horror movies.
Jason asked if the windows were open.
I screamed again, gripping Jason's poor arm with my fingernails (he has welts, poor guy).
Then, thankfully, it seemed like everyone everywhere all at the same time, told me to push all of that energy DOWN. And thankfully, I listened. I pushed.
Then, thankfully, it seemed like everyone everywhere all at the same time, told me to push all of that energy DOWN. And thankfully, I listened. I pushed.
I felt Oliver SO CLOSE. And it hurt SO BADLY. Just like I remembered, and just like I didn't want to do. But I knew I was almost done. "Horse lips!" someone said. Stop pushing and blow if you can, to try to crown a little more slowly. I did my best, but those lips just wouldn't horse very much. I felt his head pop out, and was so relieved. I wanted to reach down and touch him, but didn't have time before the next push just had to happen. His shoulders popped out and I felt the rest of his body slide out quickly behind him.
I have photos of him coming out, but they aren't exactly PG enough for the internets. If you want to see them, and we're friends, just ask ;)
I have photos of him coming out, but they aren't exactly PG enough for the internets. If you want to see them, and we're friends, just ask ;)
I sat up, reached down, and grabbed him out of the water.
My sweet boy! I couldn't believe it! I burst into tears, overwhelmed with the pain, the relief, the purity and awesomeness of that moment.
He was OUT! I sat there for a minute just in awe as he started screaming loud and clear. The look on Annabelle's face was priceless, and Jason was all choked up, too. It was such a magical moment.
My sweet boy! I couldn't believe it! I burst into tears, overwhelmed with the pain, the relief, the purity and awesomeness of that moment.
He was OUT! I sat there for a minute just in awe as he started screaming loud and clear. The look on Annabelle's face was priceless, and Jason was all choked up, too. It was such a magical moment.
After a couple of minutes, I got some help standing up and getting out of the pool onto my bed. Oliver was laying on my stomach while the midwife listened to his heart, checked his pulse and kept an eye on him.
Each time he was crying, his lungs sounded good, but when he stopped crying, he wasn't breathing as well. The midwife got out the ambu bag, and he got two long, slow "rescue breaths" to help clear the fluid from his lungs, and then laid tummy to tummy with me.
That seemed to do the trick, and he started breathing much more regularly. That moment sounds probably a lot scarier than it actually was. The midwife did not seemed concerned or flustered at all, and when I very seriously asked her to tell me what was going on, she said that Oliver was fine, it was not an emergency, that he was just having a little bit of trouble transitioning during normal breathing. The fact that he came out screaming, had been crying, and that she was so calm made it clear that he was fine. Also, the day before my birth, I shared some fears with her that I had come up about baby's safety during home birth, because of a few birth stories I had heard recently. We talked about everything, and she reminded me of what we would do if certain situations were to occur. Knowing the "protocol" and experiencing how little she seemed worried about Oliver really calmed any fears that I had in that moment. And, obviously, he's just as healthy as can be!
Thankfully I had very little bleeding at all (Midwife commented that she hadn't seen water that clean!). I did have a first degree tear, but nothing requiring stitches, hooray! While I laid there waiting for the afterbirth, Oliver started nursing. I couldn't believe it, since we had such a hard time with Belle nursing at first.
This guy knew just what to do. After about 20 minutes, I finally birthed the placenta. Jason had no desire to cut the cord after experiencing cutting Annabelle's (thought it was gross feeling), so my sister did it.
Annabelle was fascinated and kept wanting to touch the umbilical cord.
Each time he was crying, his lungs sounded good, but when he stopped crying, he wasn't breathing as well. The midwife got out the ambu bag, and he got two long, slow "rescue breaths" to help clear the fluid from his lungs, and then laid tummy to tummy with me.
That seemed to do the trick, and he started breathing much more regularly. That moment sounds probably a lot scarier than it actually was. The midwife did not seemed concerned or flustered at all, and when I very seriously asked her to tell me what was going on, she said that Oliver was fine, it was not an emergency, that he was just having a little bit of trouble transitioning during normal breathing. The fact that he came out screaming, had been crying, and that she was so calm made it clear that he was fine. Also, the day before my birth, I shared some fears with her that I had come up about baby's safety during home birth, because of a few birth stories I had heard recently. We talked about everything, and she reminded me of what we would do if certain situations were to occur. Knowing the "protocol" and experiencing how little she seemed worried about Oliver really calmed any fears that I had in that moment. And, obviously, he's just as healthy as can be!
Thankfully I had very little bleeding at all (Midwife commented that she hadn't seen water that clean!). I did have a first degree tear, but nothing requiring stitches, hooray! While I laid there waiting for the afterbirth, Oliver started nursing. I couldn't believe it, since we had such a hard time with Belle nursing at first.
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| Oh my gosh! He just latched on all by himself! |
Annabelle was fascinated and kept wanting to touch the umbilical cord.
Once we were separated, Oliver had his newborn exam, and I spent a few minutes texting friends and family to let them know about his arrival. He checked out perfect in his exam.
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| Being weighed |
After all of the procedural stuff was done, everyone started cleaning up. I was amazed how quickly everything got taken down, thrown out, and put away. The pool was siphoned out, then drained the rest of the way with a sump pump and hosed out in the back yard. Laundry was started, trash taken out, and food brought to me. I couldn't believe how quickly everything went back to normal, like it was just another day in the Rackow house! The midwife and her assistant stayed for a few hours to make sure we were healthy and well, and then left after giving me 24 hour instructions. They came back the next day to check on us, and the midwife came back again the following day to make sure I was healing okay.
Having a home birth was not something I thought I would ever do. I even told other people (as a doula) that it's not something I would have recommended when they asked in the past about it. Now that I've done it myself, though, I just cannot imagine going back to doing it in a hospital (assuming, obviously, a healthy pregnancy/mom/baby who are low risk and complication-free). I have been trying for a week to come up with the words to express why the experience just blew me away. I'm still struggling to put it into words. I think the biggest part about it, and the reason why I felt like my labor/delivery was so much easier than Annabelle's, was that it was not this huge ordeal to be nervous and stressed out about...it was just going to be part of my day. I could do what I wanted to, when I wanted to, without having to worry about what someone was going to say or restrict or allow or question or mandate. Obviously the midwife was here watching over both of us and keeping us safe. But for the most part, the labor and delivery were on my terms. There wasn't a question of whether or not I'd get to do x, y, or z (barring any complications or unforseen circumstances). There wasn't a question of who would or would not be there. There wasn't a chance I'd have to "argue" to get my way about something I felt strongly about. I knew where I'd be, I knew I'd be safe, and I knew that I'd be surrounded by knowledgeable people who would take care of me and my baby alone--no one else at the same time. Jason had a good word for it--casual. It wasn't this huge ordeal. It happened, it was awesome and amazing, and then it was done and life went on. Skipping the chaos of childcare, packing bags, getting to the hospital and checking in, then staying for two days and having to transition back home was priceless. And, the biggest, best part of all was having Annabelle there with me, the whole time. She's my world, and if she was okay emotionally, I desperately wanted her to be there. And she was. And she was AWESOME. I think she's what kept me afloat most of the time, honestly. Getting to focus on her, and my last few precious moments as her mom alone...it was so, so priceless.
May 20th, 3:13 p.m...our family of 3 became a family of 4. Oliver Eaton Rackow, 7 pounds, 10 ounces, 21 inches long. His birth was powerful, emotional, and the most amazing thing I have ever experienced.
“When you change the way you view birth, the way you birth will change.”
~Marie Mongan
1 comments:
Beautiful story, Jill! I am so happy you had the birth experience you wanted. Congratulations! And welcome to the world Oliver!
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