If you want to be on the protected list just leave a comment. (You have to have a xanga account and be subscribed to me, which is free and doesn't even involve email anymore.) These posts really do include private information about my emotions, finances and other things going on in my life though, so if that's TMI for you it's OK.   Everybody has their own problems, and I totally understand if you don't want to hear about mine.

I got this from the national ICAN list. 

The medical progress in a hundred years?

Before the planned conception Sarah was very nervous, even scared. Every friend and also her mother and aunt have told her the most horrific stories about it.  But a woman must go through that if she wants to have a child. She'll manage somehow.

It started with all the necessary medical checkups. But there is no way to avoid those as so many terrible things could happen: STDs, unpunctual ovulation (everything would have been for nothing then), erectile dysfunction, some people even had a heart attack while having intercourse. So it's better to get everything thoroughly checked.

Finally the long awaited day came and Sarah was very excited. Her suitcase has already been packed a long time ago. One day she was informed from her conception doctor, that she would ovulate today and everything was ready at the clinic.

Together with her loved one she shakily drove to the clinic. While checking in, all documents were verified, they signed all papers regarding the risks of procreation and got assigned to a procreation room. There an procreation assistant already awaited them and told them to take off their clothes. They were hooked on to the equipment. Heart rate, blood pressure, status of vaginal moisture and progress of erection were transferred to the screens right next to the bed.

The procreation assistant was very sensitive. Mildly smiling, she told them that they could start stimulating each other now. She even put on a CD of their favorite music. At first, everything progressed slowly, but then, as the assistant just did a vaginal check up to see how Sarah was progressing, Sarah's boyfriend had an imminent flaccidity. The assistant immediately called a procreation specialist for help, who gave the poor man an infusion with erection supporting medication. Sarah was relieved. Without this intervention something worse might have happened. The assistant soothed her. Now theycould continue.

With the encouraging shouts from the assistant ("Faster,. yes, like that. a little deeper.!") successfully a child was conceived - proof of their love! Yes it was painful and very uncomfortable, but all this was forgotten when Sarah finally had a positive pregnancy test in her hands. She's very proud that everything went naturally. Many couples have to conceive under anesthesia because there so scared of the act of procreation. Although there are still about 2% crazy nature freaks who conceive their child at home in their own bed. How irresponsible!

Sarah was too afraid of that! She herself experienced how important it was to have medical personnel and drugs at hand. Some of these hippies even tell of orgasmic experiences through intercourse. But who knows, they probably just want to make it sound better than it actually was.  Such glorification of sex is just irresponsible campaigning! They think that they are something better, because there child was conceived between their own dirty sheets without medical intervention and sometimes even without any prior checkups. Alone the mess in the own bedroom. no, Sarah would never get such silly ideas. In the hospital it's clean and sterile. You are monitored 100% of the time and in case of need you can get a PDA or even a general anesthetic if you can't cope with the pain.

Just to be safe.

(Written by a woman from Germany who got her - right now heavily pregnant - daughter at home and who assists her in every way to do the same. She just mentioned dryly that she read somewhere that we should birth our children as we conceive them and she thought how it would be if we would conceive them how we birth them right now.).

Careful with that eggnog today, folks!

Originally posted:Wednesday, December 22, 2004

~1:00 AM "Hello?" "Hey, what you doing?" "Reading the paper, why?" "Did you tell him it was OK to go?" "What?" "Did you tell Dad it was OK to go?" (pause) "....no...."  (Thinking- was I supposed to?) ***************************************** I gather my things, knowing that the waiting has begun.  Laptop, of course.  Mail piled up from this week, unopened.  GS stuff, things that *need* to be done but I haven't managed to do them yet.  Magazines, reading material....a few extra just in case.  Word search in case I'm too out of it to read but still want to do something....... ******************************************** Driving to my parent's house is surreal.  I find odd comfort in the beauty of the night and the calming symphonic music from the radio.  A couple of times I start to cry, as the reality sets in, but I choke them back.  Stop it.  I'm driving damn it. ****************************************** Pulled up to the house, into the driveway.  Blocking the sidewalk, but I really don't care.  I see someone peek out the front window.  I gather my things from the car, shivering in the bitter cold.  My brother opens the door as I walk up to the porch.  We go in, the house dim.  As I set down my things, he sits on the couch and opens his laptop.  I go into the dining room.  There, lying in the hospital bed.  Mom sits on his right side, holding his hand.  The nurse, Rose, sitting on his left reading from a small booklet- praying the rosary.  She moves over as I come in, offering me the chair she was sitting in.  I sit down, and pick up Dad's hand.  I expected it to be cold, but it was actually warm.  I sat there, caressing his hand and silently crying as Rose recited Hail Mary's and Our Fathers and read the Joyful (!) mysteries.  When Rose finished, Mom came over and hugged me, silently holding me as we cried together. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ We convinced Mom & Scott to go to bed somewhere around 2 or 3.    I settled in for the wait, paying bills and opening the mail.  (Having been the lazy unemployed person I am, I hadn't gotten up until 3 PM, so I wasn't the least bit tired yet.)  Reading Waiting Random conversation with Rose Waiting Smoke break (To Rose as I came back inside- "News flash.  It's still cold.") Waiting ********************************** At some point during those long hours, I made some Ramen Noodles.  I put the water on, telling Rose to not let me forget about it (as I had many times before).    As I sat there reading and waiting for it to boil, she called in to report. This is Rose with patient Thomas Ebbing, e. b as in boy, b as in boy, i. n. g.  She begins cataloging his medicines, how they are delivered, the dosage, etc.  Patient has bi-lateral modeling (apparently this is where the blood no longer circulates, it just sits there) on his knees, feet are cold.....  I became engrossed in listening to this catalogue, this description, (in every tiny medical detail) of my father as the patient and his progression.  That is, I was engrossed until the smoke alarm went off. At first I thought it was some odd medical alarm, but then I faintly heard boiling water.  Damn.  I jump up, running into the kitchen (almost knocking over the vacuum cleaner inexplicately next to the kitchen doorway).  I check the stove, the water is boiling fine, no flames.  The alarm continues to beep loudly.  Scott comes pounding upstairs, having only thrown on a shirt.  I had grabbed a towel and begun to wet it, but he just reached up and took it down, unscrewing the alarm from its' base and silencing it.  I hear Mom come out in the other room, asking "What's going on?"  "Nothing Mom.  I just put water on for Ramen Noodles and forgot about it.  Never did that before."  I hear a chuckle and a sigh of relief from the other room, and she returns to bed.  Scott has somehow managed to cut his finger in getting the alarm down, but just looked at it, annoyed.  I took the alarm from him, told him I would take care of it, go back to bed.  The little picture of a fire continued to blink.  Rose came in- "I think the only one you didn't disturb is the patient." ******************************************************** His breathing became more shallow and labored as the hours wore on.  Somewhere around 4 or 5 he began to cycle- (Rose had some name for it, implying that this was normal, and that the next stage would be apnea during the cycle) he would breath very loudly, then start breathing very softly. We would hold our breath, straining to hear the next one.  When hearing failed, we would watch the chest.  Seconds later his breathing would become louder again and we would go on.... ...waiting. ************************************ 5:30 AM I became tired, and laid down on the couch to rest.  I then joined in what everyone else in the family was doing- pretending to sleep quietly as we listened to the harsh breathing from the other room... ....waiting. **************************************** Hubby came shortly after 6, settling into the couch with me.  Scott's alarm went off, as we laughingly listened to him hit the snooze... again.  ( I jokingly bet that he would hit it 5 times- I won.)  Mom's friend Dianne called, asking what the prognosis was.  Hours.  "Really, that quick?  I was just there yesterday.  Is your Mom still going to her Dr's appointment this morning?"  So far as I know, I'm not sure.  We discussed how little sleep everyone had and who was going to drive Mom to her appointment.  She said she would get dressed and come over to take her. Apparently the phone had woken Mom up (or Scott's alarm going off in the basement) while I was on the phone.  She came over and kissed Dad, telling him that she was awake now, she was there.    They tried to decide whether Scott should go to work or not, Rose said that if it was important for him to be there, then he should probably stay home.  His hands and feet  had become ashen and gray.  We gathered around Dad, somehow knowing it was time.  Mom was there crying, telling him it was OK, tortured by how difficult was for him to breathe.  She told him that she would be OK, that us kids would take care her.  She said it was OK to go join the Christmas party with Uncle Al and Uncle Ralph, to let go, that he didn't need to run the race anymore.    He opened his eyes and looked at her for the longest time as she said that we would miss him, but it was OK, to let go.  His breathing was slowing down, and seemed to be staying on the quieter end of the cycle.  With each labored breath he would thrust his lower jaw out, as if he were trying to give some last words of comfort.  Each time we would start counting between breaths, watching his cavernous mouth gasping for air.  Finally it stopped.  Scott laid his hand on Dad's neck, checking for a pulse.  Rose put her stethoscope to his chest.  7:06 AM, December 21st, 2004.  "He's gone."

For our first time hosting Thanksgiving dinner, I don't think we did all that bad.  I had been a little nervous since our 20 lb. turkey was still pretty rock solid the night before, and posted my concerns on facebook.  A really sweet friend took time out of his Thanksgiving morning to call to see if it had thawed completely and give us a back up plan if it hadn't.  Thankfully, after soaking all night, the bird did thaw in time.  Hubby got up around 6:30 in the morning to get it ready and put it in the oven. 

We tried to watch the parade, but JB wasn't impressed and kept turning the TV off.  So we gave up and just focused on last minute cleaning and starting the cooking.  We had an even dozen, although Kaya didn't join us in eating the yummy food. The family started arriving around noon to help set up, the big meal was planned to start at 1:00 pm.

We were almost ready to eat.  The turkey was carved and on a serving tray sitting on the stove.  Next to the turkey was the mashed potatoes, in a plastic salad bowl that was doing duty as a serving dish.  Hubby put the gravy on the stove and turned on the back burner to heat it up a bit.  Or so he thought.  I was standing right there when I noticed the plastic mashed potato bowl start to smoke. I tried to grab it to pick it up off the burner, but the bottom had already melted. PLOP. All the mashed potatoes fell on to the burner with the melted plastic, and I'm left holding a salad bowl with a big perfect circle hole in the bottom. Ooops.

We were able to salvage some potatoes, and the family was very gracious about the delay.  Dinner was only an hour late, which I don't think is quite so bad for a first timer, personally.  We're totally inundated with pies, though.  Bret felt the need to make an applie pie even though he knew that his mother was bringing some pies.  She felt the need to leave them here, so we have 2 pumpkin pies, an apple pie, a cherry pie, AND  pecan pie!   Anybody local that wants some pie is welcome to come visit!! 

Hope everybody had a great thanksgiving!

 

Politics for Dummies. DEMOCRAT You have two cows. Your neighbor has none. You feel guilty for being successful. You push for higher taxes so the government can provide cows for everyone.     REPUBLICAN You have two cows. Your neighbor has none. So?   SOCIALIST You have two cows. The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor. You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.   COMMUNIST You have two cows. The government seizes both and provides you with milk. You wait in line for hours to get it. It is expensive and sour.   CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE You have two cows. You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.   BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE You have two cows. Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk down the drain.   AMERICAN CORPORATION You have two cows. You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one. You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead.  ; You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsized and are reducing expenses. Your stock goes up.     FRENCH CORPORATION You have two cows. You go on strike because you want three cows. You go to lunch and drink wine. Life is good.   JAPANESE CORPORATION You have two cows. You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and produce twenty times the milk. They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains. Most are at the top of their class at cow school.   GERMAN CORPORATION You have two cows. You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, give excellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.   ITALIAN CORPORATION You have two cows but you don't know where they are. You break for lunch. Life is good.     RUSSIAN CORPORATION You have two cows. You have some vodka. You count them and learn you have five cows. You have some more vodka. You count them again and learn you have 42 cows. The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.     TALIBAN CORPORATION You have all the cows in  Afghanistan , which are two. You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature's private parts. You get a $40 million grant from the US government to find alternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.   IRAQI                          CORPORATION You have two cows. They go into hiding.   They send radio tapes of their mooing.     POLISH CORPORATION You have two bulls. Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.     BELGIAN                         CORPORATION You Nohave one cow. The cow is schizophrenic. Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.. The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow. The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk. The cow asks permission to be cut in half. The cow dies happy     FLORIDA CORPORATION You have a black cow and a brown cow. Everyone votes for the best looking one. Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentally vote for the black one. Some people vote for both. Some people vote for neither Some people can't figure out how to vote at all. Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one you think is the best-looking cow.     CALIFORNIA CORPORATION You have millions of cows. They make real   California  cheese. Only five speak English. Most are illegal.

 

 

First a quick note:  I’m studying to be an accountant.  In my own mind, I want to account for as much detail and every minute as possible.  So this story is long and has tons of unnecessary detail.  Sorry. For any Harry Potter fans, consider this my pensieve. 

People Involved

Bret-husband

Julian-son
M-Midwife

T- Possible second midwife

E-Doula

Dr. Bowen-OB

Dr. Jack-Chiropractor

ML-Childcare, photographer

MB-Childcare

PB-Backup doula

History

My son Julian, now almost 3 ½, had been a traumatic “emergency” c-section for variable decelerations in his heartbeat, meconium stained fluid, and my water having been broken for over 12 hours without going into active labor. (Julian’s Story) We knew our family wasn’t complete yet, so even before we started trying to get pregnant again I started planning for a better birth.  One of my La Leche League Leaders had a homebirth after cesarean (hbac), and I thought this sounded like a good idea.  (Thanks Angie!)  Even though we weren’t ready to start trying to get pregnant again, I started going to my local homebirth meetings to get more information on how I could make it happen. 

However, I had hyperemesis gravidarum  (extreme, uncontrollable nausea and vomiting) with Julian and ended up losing 30 lbs during the pregnancy, so I knew I would also need care with an OB that supported hbac. Thankfully there is an OB in the area that supports homebirth and hbac, Dr. Daniel Bowen, so I switched to him to provide my regular gynecological care. 

I was so excited when I learned we were pregnant again.  After interviewing the 3 options in the area, we chose the midwife (we’ll call her M) that I clicked with the most.  However, it was quickly obvious that parallel care was definitely the right choice, as once again I had a very difficult pregnancy.  We had a miscarriage scare at 7 weeks, and by 10 weeks I was in the hospital for IV fluids with hyperemesis again.  This time at least my OB took the hyperemesis seriously. Even though I hated the Zofran pump with a passion, it did allow me to continue to work part time, lessened the severity of weight loss, and shortened the duration- only 5 months of hyperemesis instead of the 7 it had been with Julian.

Once the hyperemesis died down it was a pretty normal pregnancy, (for a little bit) although other events made it an extremely stressful time in our lives.  The 20 week ultrasound confirmed that the placenta was nowhere near my scar and that we were having a girl. Awesome!  We were totally excited.  We knew her name would be Kaya, named after a friend.  (NOT the American Girl doll- it’s pronounced Kay-uh, not Kai-uh.) We couldn’t decide on a middle name, though. 

The Home Stretch

At a routine prenatal appointment with M 1 day shy of 37 weeks, we discovered that although Kaya had been vertex for awhile, she had turned breech.  Neither M nor Dr. Bowen was comfortable delivering a breech vaginal birth after cesarean (vbac) baby.  (The optimal position for a baby to be born is vertex, or head down.  Breech is when the baby is butt down, with different variations depending on how the legs are positioned. ) There seemed a reasonable explanation though- she turned the night that Julian had been sick with a high fever and a stomach bug and had been nursing much more than usual.  We figured Kaya just wanted to get away from the heat and were confident that she would turn back vertex.  We also noted that there were leucocytes in my urine, but, since I wasn’t showing any other symptoms, M recommended that I start drinking some cranberry juice in case I was working on a bladder infection.

It just so happened that I had already had an appointment with a new chiropractor for some minor back pain that I had been having off and on for years.   Dr. Jack Hendricks came highly recommended from the homebirth circle as being awesome for pregnant women, and for being successful with the Webster Technique for turning breech babies.  In fact, he said his office had a 100% success rate.  It happened that my appointment with him was the same day, and he did the Webster Technique, telling me to walk as much as possible to give her room to turn.  I had to go to the mall because I was having cell phone issues, so I walked around the mall for a bit and went to the grocery for some cranberry juice.  After putting Julian to sleep for the night I went to bed and put my butt up in the air and a flashlight near my pubic bone, telling Kaya to turn.

Around 6 the next morning (37 weeks) I woke up and my uterus felt extremely tight.  Normally your uterus moves with you, but it felt like I was trying to move with an immobile basketball in my stomach.  It was highly painful!  By 10 in the morning the pain hadn’t gone away.  It wasn’t coming and going, it was just staying very tight.  I called my doula, (we’ll call her E) in tears, afraid that I was in labor with a breech baby, which would have meant an automatic repeat c-section, something I definitely did not want!  E has around 30 years of experience as a doula. When she came to my work, felt my stomach, and told me I was not in labor, I was greatly relieved.  She said she thought I had just caught whatever bug Julian had had earlier in the week, especially since I was also running a slight fever, and that this was causing abdominal pain and Braxton Hicks contractions.  I went home early from work to try to get some rest.  After a bit I figured I should probably call my midwife and let her know that I was sick and tell her about how tight my uterus was.  M urged me to get tested for a bladder infection because of the fever and the leucocytes that I had shown the day before, just to be on the safe side and rule it out. 

Dr. Bowen’s office was closing for the weekend, so I called my general practitioner to see if someone could get me in to do the test.  By the time I got to their office I was in so much pain that I could barely walk.  They tested my urine, but it came back with only trace leucocytes and no sign of any infection.  He was extremely concerned with how much pain I was in though, and wanted me to go to the ER for further testing, mentioning that appendicitis can happen in pregnancy too.  The general practitioner wanted me to go to the nearest ER, but after confirming that I wasn’t in any imminent danger, we decided to grab a bite to eat and head to the hospital that Dr. Bowen has privileges at a half hour away.  I talked to Dr. Bowen, and he wanted me to come in and get on the monitor also, mentioning scary possibilities like preterm labor and placenta abruption.

Even though my instincts were telling me that my baby was fine, I was still greatly relieved to hear the heartbeat when we got to the hospital.  So then it was just a waiting game to get a good 20 minutes or so of readings on the monitor.  After a bit I really wanted to turn on my side, but after I turned they were having an extremely hard time finding the heartbeat again.  Dr. Bowen, who had been at the hospital with another Mom in labor, came in and we were talking trying to figure out what was going on.  After watching the nurses for awhile still trying to find the heartbeat again, he said, “Let me try.”  He immediately found the heartbeat- down by the pubic bone!  E and I were both ecstatic to find out that she had turned vertex again.  They did some blood tests just to rule out any infections of the liver or anything else serious.  When they came back negative, it was clear that the pain was a result of a combination of a virus w/abdominal pain that brought on Braxton Hicks contractions, and turning a breech baby (who was probably transverse (sideways, the most painful position) while I was at the general practitioner’s office).  So I went home to rest, get better, and wait for labor. 

2 days later my uterus got tight again, but this time it wasn’t quite as bad.  I still couldn’t walk though, and had to call off work.  M became concerned, this was not normal.  She requested that I ask Dr. Bowen if he thought I was still a good candidate for a homebirth at my next visit.  I understood her concern, but was so scared that I would be risked out of the homebirth that I had worked so hard for.  Thankfully, my OB saw no reason not to go ahead as planned.  However, since M was concerned, he went ahead and scheduled a 38 week visit, one he would normally skip with a planned homebirth. 

As a quick aside, I had felt for awhile that I wasn’t going to make it to 40 weeks (although I was hoping to, because we really weren’t ready.)  I told Kaya that if she really felt the need to come early, she had to wait until at least 38 weeks + 5 days- after my Mother Blessing and my appointment to get at least 10 inches cut off of my hair.  I did NOT want to have to deal with long, heavy hair during labor in the middle of July in a house with air condition only in the bedrooms!!

While we’re at it, let’s quickly go over the “plans” as they were.  I would call E as early in labor as I felt I needed her.  She would supply the birth pool, for which we had bought a new liner.  ML (who also happens to be E’s back up as a doula) would take pictures and provide early child care. I was closer to another doula in the area, PB, and requested that she be my backup doula. When things started to pick up MB would come to take care of Julian, or be the primary childcare if ML was busy taking pictures.  (Incidentally, MB is a doula herself- I was trying to surround myself with lots of women knowledgeable about childbirth!) I had wanted to give birth in the pool, preferably getting the last 10 minutes or so on actual video.  I wanted Julian to be able to watch the birth if he wanted to, or be out in the yard or somewhere else with someone if it was too much for him.   In the end, none of that happened.  So much for plans.

OK, back to the story.  For the first time, I was worried to go to the 38 week visit.  (It was 37 w +4 d to be technical.)  I was sooo close to achieving what I had worked so hard for; I was worried that I would have preeclampsia or something that would snatch my dream away when I was so close.  (I certainly wasn’t wanting a homebirth at any cost though; a healthy baby was still the number one priority!) I was quite relieved when my blood pressure was good, somewhere around my normal 120/80, or maybe even better.  I settled in to wait for Dr. Bowen, happily thinking about my Mother Blessing that was planned for that evening.  I had asked not to be checked, because that was what had started labor with Julian.

When Dr. Bowen came in the room he asked why we had scheduled this week, and then answered his own question about M being concerned.  So he started to feel my stomach and as we’re making small talk I mention something about everything being OK as long as Kaya didn’t go breech again.  He said he thought she was. 

Stop.

No.

This. Is. Not. Allowed.

 

Sure enough, the heartbeat was back up towards my belly button.   Words cannot describe how I felt at that moment.  He suggested we go into the next room and take a look with the ultrasound.  After the machine warmed up, he put the wand or whatever it’s called at the bump at the top of my stomach.  Immediately I briefly saw her face, and he said, “Yep, that’s a head.”  I threw my arms up in the air, lightly punching the seat above me.  Why????  Why did she turn again????  He kept looking, and it seemed that there was a large pocket of cord in the vicinity of her neck.  The nature of an ultrasound being what it is, he couldn’t tell whether the cord was actually wrapped around her neck, or if it was just draped on her neck.

I was visibly upset and trying to hold back tears.  As we walked back to the exam room to get my purse I was trying to simultaneously resign myself to a possible repeat c-section and being more determined than ever to try to get her to turn.  I asked him that if we had to have another c-section, could we wait until labor started so I would know she was ready, and could we do the technique that I had heard about a slow cesarean, where they pull out the head and then wait for a few contractions before pulling out the body. (Not even thinking that obviously this technique isn’t possible with a breech, unless I wanted a really huge classical incision, which would be stupid.)  He said that normally he is all for waiting for labor to start, but that he was leaving for vacation the day after my due date.  Wisely, he said to wait and see how things were going next week.  I couldn’t stop the tears as I tried to make the next appointment with the receptionist, and as I walked out to the van where my husband and son were waiting, I was sobbing.  Bret, my husband, saw me and came to me before I got there and held me, asking what was wrong.  I could only stand there and wail, “She’s breech again!”  The first time she had turned breech it was OK.  There seemed to be a reasonable explanation and I was confident she would turn vertex and stay there.  For her to turn again shook me to the core.

Thankfully I had my Mother Blessing that evening, and there was still plenty of cleaning and last minute preparations to be done to take my mind off of the news.  The Mother Blessing was beautiful, and I really felt loved and supported.  As part of the ceremony we took a ball of string and wrapped it around each person’s wrist, making a large circle of support.  They cut the string and were to wear it as a bracelet, anklet, or in some manner, and think of me each time they saw it.  I gave each guest a small candle to light when I went into labor to think of me.

We had made it to the 38 weeks + 5 days and my hair had been cut, but now my baby was breech again.  I was so stressed trying to figure out what to do.  Obviously I was trying to get her to turn, but I felt like we were quickly running out of time and options.  Mostly, I was scared.  Even as I sit writing this it is difficult to think of how scared I was.  Why did she keep turning breech?  What if this was a sign that I should just go for the repeat c-section and that was how she was meant to be born?  Babies are smart, what if she was breech because the cord was too tight around her neck?  Would going into labor mean that she would be strangled by her own cord?  I was so worried and so scared, I could think of almost nothing else.  I know that having the cord around a baby’s neck (called a nuchal cord) in and of itself is not a big deal, and actually happens in around 25% of births without complication, but for some reason I couldn’t let it go. (ETA: Here is another great link about nuchal cords, although this one says it happens in  30% of births.)  Taken individually, the risks of vbac, breech, and nuchal cord were low enough to accept.  However, looking at all 3 in the same scenario  made it seem like an incredibly risky thing to try, even though there is absolutely no evidence that I could find to suggest that they compound each other or that one factor makes another riskier. I was trying to relax, knowing that stressing out was not helping anything, but I was only marginally succeeding. 

I was able to get in to see Dr. Jack a day earlier than my next scheduled visit so he could do the Webster Technique again.  By the time I got home though, I was exhausted and couldn’t really do anything except take care of Julian while Bret was at work and go to bed.  At least I was able to get a good night’s rest, and the extra dose of sleep definitely helped.

Unfortunately, work the next day (38 weeks + 6 days)was horrible.  My boss and I had been having issues for awhile, and being stressed out already didn’t help.  He had said something to the effect of Kaya going breech again because I was worrying about it.  This accusation, despite being ludicrous, still got to me, especially since I had not worried about it.  In fact, once she had turned back vertex the first time, I thought it was over and trusted she would stay that way through the end.  Having her turn again was a complete shock to me, and having my boss imply that it was my fault was not helping.  After work I went straight to Dr. Jack’s office for a follow up and have yet another Webster Technique done.  On the way, my check engine light came on.  That was the last straw.  By the time I got to the office I was sobbing, and had to sit in the parking lot for awhile before I could regain my composure enough to go in. 

I knew that being this stressed out was not good for me or Kaya, so I resorted to the one thing that is most calming to me- the woods. (A creek helps, but the trees surrounding me and the non-cement pathway to walk on are the essential elements.)  I called Bret and asked him if we could have dinner, then go for a long walk in the woods, where we would discuss what we were going to do.   He wasn’t very happy about the idea of going for a walk in the woods, but said OK. We went to Embshoff Woods and walked the fitness course.  We had some serious decisions to make.  I had called E to give her an update, and she recommended I ask Dr. Bowen to schedule an external version the next day in the hospital.  When he called back though, he said that he was not willing to do a version because of the questions about the cord and my scar.  Another option was closed.

The way we saw it, we had three options.

The first, and best, option was for her to turn.  I had an appointment scheduled with M for the next day.  If she checked and Kaya was vertex, we wanted to induce labor as soon as possible.  I could not deal with the possibility of her turning breech again.  We had a long discussion about what “inducing” would entail- what methods we were willing to do and the risks of each one, and what methods we weren’t willing to do, like Pitocin.

The second option, almost the middle road, was to bring in another midwife.  One of the other homebirth midwives in the area, (we’ll call her T) is known to have a lot of experience in both vaginal breech babies and vbacs.  In fact, we had been receiving a bit of pressure from various sources to go this route.  However, there were many factors to consider.  Sadly there were finances to consider, since our income is only marginally above the federal poverty level, and we were not at all sure of our ability to pay 2 midwives and a doula.    In addition, there was no guarantee that T would even be willing to take us at the last minute. 

The third option was of course the repeat c-section.  We could schedule the c-section for my due date (if I had to have a section I wanted it to be with Dr. Bowen, not his backup), and try everything within our power to turn her before then and go back to the first option.  We went over the risks of a repeat c-section and the ramifications of what it would mean in times of longer recovery and ability to work.  (I only get 1 paid vacation week off.  It’s a small company with only 7 employees, and even paying for training a temp replacement for me would be hard. I’m not irreplaceable-no one is- but it certainly wouldn’t be easy.)

My midwife, awesome as she is, had said that she would support us and be with us for whatever we chose, but made it clear that whatever our choice was, we had to own it.  She knows herself and what level of risk she is willing to take.  For her to still be willing to support us even if we decided to go beyond that level made me respect her even more and re-affirmed  to me yet again that we had made the right choice for a midwife.

Going in to the discussion with my husband, I had almost resigned myself to another c-section.  I recalled that long before we got pregnant, he had been against a homebirth, saying that he wasn’t willing to risk not having the immediate backup if something went wrong.  Although he had obviously since changed his stance on homebirth, I didn’t think that he would be willing to go against the advice of both M and Dr. Bowen.

However, he surprised me.  After discussing all the risks and options, he was willing to try to go to T and have both midwives there, if she would take us at the last minute.  But I wasn’t so sure.  From the beginning, my greatest fear was depression.  I have suffered from severe depressive episodes since I was 14.  I have been hospitalized for attempted suicide over 15 times, and in 2003 had to take a 7 month leave of disability from work for it, where I was either cutting myself or trying to kill myself every day.  I had Postpartum Depression with Julian, and had been perilously close to attempting suicide again then.  It has been a long, desperate fight to get to where I am today.  Knowing myself, I was weighing my risk of depression also.  It was hard, because then the options changed order.  If we pulled in T and everything went OK, I figured I would be OK.  But if anything went wrong, I would blame myself and my risk of becoming seriously suicidal would be very high. (Recall that I somehow felt that this would be a very risky thing to do even though it really isn’t, statistically, and especially since T is a very experienced and competent provider. My hesitance to go to her was due to personality differences, not skill level.) However, the risk of depression with a repeat c-section (in my estimation) was around 50-75%, and I didn’t think I would get suicidal as long as Kaya was OK. Of course I figured my risk of having depression with a vertex birth with M would be very low, which is why I chose it to begin with.  Weighing all these factors and determining the level of risk we were willing to take was very hard.  It was not a decision made lightly.

We decided that we still wanted to try for a homebirth.  We would wait until M came the next day.  If Kaya hadn’t turned, we would contact T and see if she would be willing to take us.

In the end, it didn’t matter what we had decided.  Birth happens that way.

Early Labor, aka Denial

Finally!  You thought I was never going to get here, did you? I was 38 weeks + 6 days and it was late in the evening.  By the time we got home from our walk and I put Julian to sleep, it was 11:00 p.m.  I decided to take a bath to try to relax and really focus on turning Kaya.  The bath did help, and as I crawled in to bed I swayed on hands and knees for a bit, telling myself the affirmations that I had been telling myself every night for the past couple of months. 

I am strong.

My body is strong.

My baby is strong.

My uterus is strong.

My scar is strong.

I will surrender to the flow and process of labor and birth.

I will nurture my body and my baby with the love and light of the world.

I will have a safe, healthy birth.

My perineum will remain intact.

I will not hemorrhage.

My baby will be in the best position for a safe, healthy birth. (I was thinking vertex while saying that last one, but I didn’t actually start saying “head down” until after she turned breech the first time.)

I then settled in with my butt in the air, ice on the top of my stomach and a flashlight at my pubic bone, encouraging Kaya to turn.  I stayed in that position until around 12:15 a.m. when I figured I should probably get some sleep.

I was now officially at 39 weeks.  I heard Bret come to bed around 1:30 a.m. and had a hard time getting back to sleep again. I tossed and turned and frequently got up to go to the bathroom. Around 2 a.m. I started to feel some movement.  Excited, I prayed that she was turning and tried to get to sleep.  After about an hour it dawned on me that her “trying to move” seemed to have a pattern- like every 10 minutes.  Maybe I couldn’t sleep because I was hungry.  It had been 6 hours since I had last eaten, and it wouldn’t be the first time that all I needed was a 3 a.m. snack to get back to sleep.

I was still so worried.  I decided to go ahead and update my blog while I waited for my food to cook.  Every 10 minutes I continued to feel something.  It didn’t go away whether I was standing or sitting, but it wasn’t particularly painful, and wasn’t getting any stronger or more intense in any way.  It just stayed the same, every 10 minutes feeling something that I was telling myself was false labor.  I had been praying for a way to know that we had made the right decision on what to do.  I considered it a sign that if it was real labor before getting a chance to talk to T, then maybe a c-section was how Kaya was meant to be born.  I was feeling resigned that if that’s the way it had to be that it was for a reason and for the best.  I certainly wasn’t going to give birth to a baby that I knew was breech without a provider experienced in breech delivery, and I wasn’t going to call T already in labor!

Finally around 5 a.m. I went back upstairs to bed, but once again I couldn’t sleep.  I went ahead and texted my boss- “Been having contractions every 10 min. since 11 p.m. (little white lie) Not convinced it’s labor, but haven’t been able to get any sleep through it.  Won’t be able to be in at 9, but hoping to manage some sleep and come in for a couple of hours around noon.  Please text or leave me a voicemail to let me know that u got this.”

My thirst seemed insatiable and I was drinking water like crazy, so I had to constantly get up to go to the bathroom. The contractions, although not really painful, were just uncomfortable enough to make it difficult to sleep. (I was no longer denying that they were contractions, although I was still hoping they were just Braxton-Hicks.) After awhile I noticed that the contractions had started to get a little closer together.  They now seemed to be in the 7-8 minute range.  This was definitely not a welcome development, it went against my Braxton-Hicks hopes.   I told Bret what was going on, he told me to wait a few hours before calling anyone and rolled over back to sleep. I decided to go ahead and start writing it down to see what the timing really was.  6:00…6:07…6:13…6:20…  It was actually a little difficult to time them, because they had a double peak.  The contraction would start, get a little stronger, die down a little bit, then get stronger again, and finally taper off.  Rest, repeat, and serve with ice chips. (Oh.  I wasn’t in the hospital- forget the ice chip part.) 

6:26 a.m.  I gave up and texted my doula to see if she was awake.  She quickly replied, “Am now” so I called.  I knew she was going to tell me to get some sleep.  I wanted her to tell me this was false labor because it didn’t seem to be getting any stronger, just shorter together.  I felt bad for waking her when she told me she had only gotten 3 hours sleep.  She told me I was in prodromal labor, or positioning labor, and that my baby had further to go to get into position than most.  She advised I take a shower to relax and try to get some sleep.  So I took a shower and tried again.  Thankfully, by then my body was exhausted enough to let me fall asleep around 7 a.m.

8:11 a.m. I woke up to a contraction.  I was still tired, but at least a little rested.  I desperately needed that hour of sleep! I tried to go back to sleep again, but knew that it was pretty futile.  I went back to timing contractions. 8:15…8:20…8:25.

8:30 a.m. I called M. We did have an appointment scheduled for 2:30 that afternoon, after work.  She said she had a good night’s sleep, this made me happy. When I told her I had gotten 2 hours sleep and was having contractions, she decided to get ready and come down to check on Kaya’s position first before going to her other prenatal appointment down here. (She lives about an hour north.) She said she would be here around 10. 

8:40 a.m. I called my boss to make sure he had gotten my text.  He hadn’t so it was a good thing I called. I still told him I was going to try to make it in by noon. I continued to time contractions… 8:44…8:48…8:57

Julian woke up at 9 a.m.  We all got up and went downstairs for some breakfast.  Bret got the newspaper, and we checked our horoscopes.  We’re not particularly superstitious, but we read them just for fun.  I’m a Gemini, mine said, “You’ll be maneuvering a situation where the rules are not written down or spoken.  The only way to find out what they are is to break them.  Exercise your options and you’ll learn quickly.”  We laughed, finding it very humorous.  What rules would we be breaking?  What a silly idea.  The horoscope for a July 10 birthday was “This year, you are a magnet for quality relationships.  Your tolerance and patience increases and you find great peace within.  You have something to teach in August.  December shows you working hard for your earnings, but by April, you’ve found an easier, smarter way.  Loved ones make you proud in November.  Leo and Aquarius adore you. Your lucky numbers are 30, 17, 50, 2 and 11.” We wondered if M or Dr. Bowen is a Leo or Aquarius.

The midwife arrived around 10:15 a.m.  I didn’t think Kaya had turned, and had pretty much resigned myself to another c-section.  I was glad that at least we got to wait until labor started first, though.  We chatted for a little bit, and then I lay down on the couch for her to check Kaya’s position.  All the while I was having contractions, but they weren’t very strong, or at least I didn’t have to focus on them.  I had two while the midwife was checking Kaya’s position, and during both it was just ho-hum, as though we were waiting for a car to pass before crossing the street.  During the second one I finally started counting how long it was- 10 seconds in duration.  M is feeling around my stomach and starting to look hopeful.  I asked, “Dare she be vertex?”  I was afraid to hope that she had turned vertex when I had all but given up hope.  M said she was!!!  Sure enough, she checked the heartbeat- it sounded great and was low near my pelvis again. I was so happy!!!!  Neither one of us felt the need to check my cervix.  Even if she had, I hadn’t lost my plug yet, so nothing would have gone differently from that point.  She said she was going to go to the other prenatal on the other side of town.  I agreed with this and distinctly recall me saying, “Yeah, I don’t think we’re in any hurry here!” M told me to try to get some sleep, which I agreed sounded like a great idea.

10:39 a.m. - The midwife had just left. I texted my doula. “VERTEX!!! Trying to get some sleep b4 things pick up.”  She called right back and was ecstatic right there with me.  I seem to recall her saying she had gotten a little more sleep, this made me happy.  She too was on her way to a prenatal appointment.  After I finished talking to E I called my boss back.  I think I was still offering to come in later, but my boss told me not to worry about it, that he’d talk to me next week.   I then called Dr. Bowen’s office to give them a heads up.  Even though it was still a planned homebirth and all was well, he likes to know when one of his patients is in labor, understandably.  I told the nurse that contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart, but really short, only about 10 seconds long or so, and 30 seconds at the most. 

That’s the last contraction timing I can really give you.  I stopped timing contractions.  I just accepted that I was in early labor and that was that.  I figured I still had plenty of time left, maybe even the next day, before Kaya would make her entrance. 

10:48 a.m. I updated my facebook status: “VERTEX!!!!!!! Light your candle, I'm 5 minutes apart but still nowhere close to the "owie" or active labor stage, so I still have plenty of time.” All notifications done with, I went upstairs to try to get some sleep.

That didn’t last long.  Lying down was not the least bit comfortable, so I walked, or swayed, or did whatever felt best.  I’m used to doing what my body tells me to do, even if I’m in denial as to what it may mean.  In my defense, I had already gotten further into labor than I had with Julian, so this was all new to me.  I expected labor to be painful, so I just dealt with it.  I started singing the song they had taught me during my Mother Blessing.

I am opening up in sweet surrender to the luminous love light of the world. (2x)

I am opening, I am opening. (2x)

(The actual lyrics are “the love light of one” but I liked “world” better.)

11:04 a.m. I texted the midwife “Just lost the plug” Her reaction was about the same as mine.  She texted back “OK”.

A quick aside- I’m going to start talking about the actual nitty gritty of birth now.  If reading things about blood and lots of poop make you squeamish, you may want to stop here.

I was still going to the bathroom quite frequently to pee, and now I started to poop too.  After going a couple of times I noticed that there was other poop too.  It was green, and definitely not coming from my butt.  At first it wasn’t very much, just a tiny amount from when I wiped.  Then one time I had a bowel movement and it was quite obvious that there was a good amount of poop in the toilet, and it was definitely from a tiny person and a big person.

11:45 a.m. I texted one word to my midwife and doula- “Meconium”.  I was neither terribly surprised nor terribly concerned about this development, although I was definitely not just dismissing it, knowing that it could be a sign of fetal distress. (However, in a breech birth meconium is considered normal and not a sign of distress.)  I figured she had done a lot of turning, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she had some meconium somewhere in that process.  M was still at her other prenatal and texted back “ok I’ll call in a bit”.

In the paperwork that M had given us at our first prenatal appointment, there was a page on a labor project- something to do to distract you during early labor, like bake a birthday cake.  When you could no longer focus on your labor project you called the midwife.  Originally, my labor project was to be sorting through Kaya’s clothes and putting them in the “dresser” we were going to use for them, after removing the current occupants of the dresser, Julian’s toys.  However, it really ended up being assisting Bret in putting her car seat back together (we had washed all the components) and putting up her co-sleeper, since neither one of these (far more important) tasks had been done yet. (We finally got to sort the clothes 2 weeks after she was born. I told you we weren’t ready.)

12:11 p.m.  I called E.  She answered the phone saying, “So your water broke, huh?”  I said yeah and we talked about meconium for a bit.  She wanted me to describe it but I found this difficult.  It’s poop.  How do you describe poop?  She said she was still at her prenatal and asked me to call her backup, ML, who had the birth pool.  I called ML, who happened to be at the Museum Center with 5 kids.   We can see the Museum Center from the end of our street. (We live on a hill.)  The actual drive from here to there is about 5 minutes.  The pool was 30 minutes away at her house.  ML asked if I wanted her to come get Julian to join them at the Museum Center, but I declined.  I hadn’t needed help through a contraction yet, and still believed we had plenty of time. She said she would call E back to figure out about the birth pool. 

12:18 p.m. I called MB to give her the heads up that I was in labor, but hadn’t needed any help yet.  I think I had a contraction while on the phone with her, but I was still able to talk through it.  My voice may have gotten a little funny, but neither one of us mentioned it.   She said it was her husband’s last day at work and she wasn’t sure how long he was going to stay.  I said OK and promised to keep her updated.  I still feel bad that I wasn’t able to keep that promise.

12:33 p.m.  M called back and we talked about meconium.  She wasn’t really concerned about it either and also tried to get me to describe it.  I mentioned that there was more meconium, but it seemed to only be coming out during a contraction, so M said it was OK.

I’m well potty trained.  There was poop coming out of me, so I had been pretty much camped on the toilet for awhile. I got tired of seeing the bathroom and wanted to move though, so I put on a pad so I could move around a bit.  I went into Julian’s room (which is one of the 2 rooms with A/C, the other being our bedroom) to try to cool down.  It was hot and I was definitely sweaty and uncomfortable.

12:59 p.m. I called the midwife back, concerned about the amount of meconium.  I thought about asking her to come and check Kaya’s heart tones just to be reassured since Julian had decelerations during labor, but I didn’t.  I told myself she would be here soon enough, and was reassured that she didn’t seem to be concerned about the tons of meconium.  She said she was finished with her prenatal and was just going to run home real quick and then come right back.  I wasn’t fond of that idea, but I deferred to her experience and didn’t say anything.  (Why didn’t I listen to myself and speak up??? I know she would have come.  Oh yeah, I didn’t because I never speak up for myself.) We both still figured I had plenty of time, although I was starting to wonder.

So I put another pad on to be able to labor downstairs for a bit, and of course right *after* I got off the phone with M the contractions started to get stronger. I remember being annoyed that it changed right after I hung up with someone; this happened more than once and I didn’t want to call them right back to tell them it had changed.   I recall walking in circles around the living room, moving to the kitchen… At one point I remember being in the kitchen, walking on the balls of my feet during a contraction, lifting my body up to balance the down of the contraction.  I continued to sing, although I realized after a bit that I sounded more like I was about to cry, and I certainly wasn’t going to be making any choirs proud.  (I was actually in a few choirs when I was younger, before 10 years of smoking killed my voice.  I stopped smoking when I was one week pregnant with Julian.  A 12 hour plane ride to Europe is a great way to detox.)

The Race No One Knew They Were In

1:24 p.m. I called E.  I don’t remember much about this conversation, just the relief upon hearing her say, “You sound like you’re really starting to have to work through these.  I’m gonna go ahead and come over.” She mentioned something about calling someone else to bring the pool over from ML’s house. I was just glad she was on her way.  I think this may have been the call that I told her, “I think this may be going faster than we think.” Bret had been taking care of Julian downstairs, occasionally coming up to check on me.  He had never finished reading The Birth Partner like I had asked him to, so I knew he had no clue how to help me, and I was not really in any shape to tell him by then. Even if he could have, I wanted him to be with Julian, I didn’t want Julian to be alone while Mommy was making all those scary sounds.   Looking back we should have called ML or MB for childcare long before then, but we didn’t.  Once again, we thought we still had time.

1:30 p.m. I called M and told her that this was really getting hard. (Secretly I wanted someone to complain to until E got there.) She asked about E and I told her that she was on her way.  The phone record shows this call was 8 minutes long.  I remember having 2 contractions while talking to her, and telling her that I wanted more of a break between contractions.  She asked what I meant and I complained, “See, here’s another one!”  I had to breathe heavily to get through them.  I felt like I was whining, and I didn’t like it.  This whining didn’t sit well with my “I am strong” affirmation.  M said she was almost home, she was just going to grab a bite to eat and then come right back down. Part of me wanted to tell her to turn around and come, but I didn’t.  Another part of me was saying that E was on her way, the midwife comes later. Let the woman get a bite to eat, it won’t take that long.  I told her that I didn’t know about anyone else, but I would definitely call this active labor, and she agreed.  (Afterwards, she told me that she was thinking I was around 3 cm at this point. We later determine I was probably close to, if not already in, transition.)

The contractions were really getting intense.  Once again, they changed shortly after I got off the phone with someone. I soon went from the breathing heavily stage to the moaning stage, which quickly escalated to the screaming bloody murder stage.  I wanted to call someone, but the phone was all the way on the other side of the sink, and that might as well have been on another planet.  I was hot, and tired, and all I wanted was a rest.  The contractions seemed to be on top of each other, and all I could do between them was try to catch my breath. During them, I sat on the toilet and gripped the tub next to me, and screamed. I kept telling myself “They’re on their way, they’ll be here soon.” I really wanted to call someone, but they were already coming. What was I going to say, “Drive faster!”? Bret came up to check on me; he got a wet washcloth and wiped the sweat from my forehead during a contraction.  I told him E and M were coming, and Julian called for him, so he went back downstairs to be with him.  Apparently Julian was handling it well, although he was putting his hands over his ears. 

1:55 p.m. Bret had come up again to check on me, and between contractions I asked if he wanted to call for childcare. He said yes.  He took the phone and was looking through numbers, and asked if it was this one.  Annoyed, I growled, “Gimme the damn phone” and dialed the correct number, handing the phone back to him. I started to have another contraction and he went into the hallway so he can hear.  The last few contractions had gradually begun to be different, but it finally dawned on me what that meant. 

Oh FUCK. 

This can’t be. No one’s here yet!  I briefly panicked, but then I heard Bret on the phone in the hallway. “I’M PUSHING!!!” I yelled out.  I knew he was still on the phone with ML (who is a doula) and hoped that she could hear me.  (How could she not?) I also prayed that she’ll call E, but I have no idea whether she did or not.  

I finally decided to see if I could feel anything.  There was meconium all over.  I felt a bulge which seemed curiously large and elliptical.  I recalled a video I had seen recently of a woman giving a speech to her lawmakers about certifying midwives.  She says that she is a researcher, and the only thing her midwife had to convince her of was that her baby was not actually descending through her butt. (If you know which video I’m talking about, please send it to me so I can link it to the story.)  I now knew exactly what she meant. 

I also realized that what I was feeling was very smooth.  I thought to myself, “Where’s her hair?”  This made no sense to me.  I recalled the video of a friend that recently gave birth.  She was pushing and her water hadn’t broken yet.  The midwife told her to pinch the sac to break it, that it would feel so much better.  Sac, I thought to myself.  Surely that was the answer.  Never mind that I knew my water was already broken, this thought didn’t cross my mind.  I tried to pinch a couple times, but quickly gave up when it was obviously getting nowhere.  (Poor girl, being pinched by Mommy before she even came out!) I also tried to massage my perineum a little bit, but that seemed to bring on another contraction, so I quickly gave up on that too.  

2:03 p.m.  Bret called M from our bedroom down the hall to tell her I was pushing.  He said there was a long pause and she said, “I’m not going to make it.”  He hung up and I vaguely heard him say, “Where *is* everybody???” and he punched a hole in the wall. He came back to the bathroom looking totally lost and helpless.  I told him, “It’s OK honey, we can do this.” And I believed it.  I wasn’t scared because I didn’t know.  It still hadn’t registered that my baby was breech.  I told Bret, “This is going too fast, we have to slow this down.”  I told him to turn on the cold water.  I meant for a shower, but he started to fill the tub and I never get a chance to clarify.  (I have no idea whether this strategy would have worked or not, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.) I started having another contraction, he started calling someone.  Julian was downstairs, alone.

2:07 p.m.  Bret accidentally called my sister 1,000 miles away in Oklahoma.  She answered the phone and he said the doula’s name.  She said, “No, this is Joanne.”  He said, “Sorry” and hung up.  I later learned that she then called my Mom, asking who E was.  Mom told her she was my doula, and then my sister talked my Mom out of calling us to see if everything was OK.  We don’t always get along the best, but I definitely owe my sister on that one.  Having someone else tie up the phone line at that minute would not have been good.   Julian was downstairs, alone.

2:09 p.m.  Bret was in the doorway to the bathroom, on the phone with someone.  I heard relief in his voice, and realized that someone must be here. He left to go let them in.  I started having another scream-at-the-top-of-your-lungs-bloody-murder contraction.  Sitting during contractions had ceased to be an option some time ago, so I stood, slightly bent over the toilet.  My body was pushing and all I could do was hold on for dear life, ride the wave, and scream.  After the contraction I looked down.

 

Feet.

 

There were baby feet hanging from my body.

I reached down and held her. 

I heard someone come in downstairs, they seemed to be talking.

I yelled, “SHE’S HERE! HELP ME!!”

I heard footsteps running up the stairs and E came into the bathroom.  She immediately came over to help hold Kaya, telling me to put my foot on Julian’s stool in the corner with the next contraction. 

2:11 p.m. Bret came back to the doorway, on the phone with the midwife. The next contraction wasn’t long in coming, and I somehow managed to do as my doula had said, putting my foot on the stool and grabbing the towel rack for support.  (Thankfully it didn’t fall, although it does seem to be a little loose now.) I screamed a multilevel scream, and looking down absently noted blood dripping onto the bathroom rug and E’s bare feet. 

Kaya was out.

I started to bring her up to my chest, but E said, “Wait, there’s cord.” She started to unwrap it from around Kaya’s neck, counting how many times it’s wrapped…1…2…3…4…5…6! The cord was wrapped around her neck six times!!!!  Then I brought Kaya up to my chest, talking to her.  “Is she breathing?”  I asked. She was making faces and totally covered in vernix. E was rubbing her back and told me to put my mouth over her nose and mouth and give her a little breath, and then another.  I think I ended up giving her a total of 5 breaths.  It’s a good thing E had told me that Kaya was trying to suck her finger as she was being born and was reporting that her back was pinking up, or I would have been freaking out a lot more.  E was calmly talking me through the whole time.

Slowly Kaya started to come around, and her little squeaky cry was the most beautiful sound.  I sat back down on the toilet and E leaned over to turn off the water to the tub, which was now full.  I immediately tried to put Kaya to the breast, and E kindly pointed out that she had to get the stuff out of her mouth before she would be able to nurse.  Silly Mama.

E and I sat there talking as ML arrived.  I was vaguely aware that she was snapping pictures from the doorway.  ML offered to take Julian with her, but Bret declined.  They asked me, I didn’t care one way or the other.  Mostly, I was in shock.  My baby is here.  Breech.  She’s OK.  I was having contractions but ignoring them, at least until a few minutes later when I felt something come out.  “Oh. Here’s the placenta.”  I tried to catch it, but I was holding Kaya in one arm and I didn’t move quickly enough.  E kindly fished it out of the toilet and called for a plastic bag.  She was standing there holding the placenta in her bare hands and asked, “So I guess I should ask if you have any communicable diseases I should be aware of?”  She cracks me up. 

Postpartum

E grabbed towels from under the sink and bundled us up, and said we’re going to the bedroom.  After I lay on the bed E looked and said my bleeding looked fine, mentioning that from the pitch of my last scream she thought I might have torn a little bit.  I think we were all in shock.  We discussed how quickly she came, and E admonished me for not calling her back.  She told me she had stopped at the store to get a kiddie pool.  By the time I realized how far along I was, calling anyone was not an option. In my defense, she hadn’t mentioned stopping at the store when I spoke to her.  If she had, I’d have told her to skip it.  We all thought I had so much more time than I did.  Birth generally doesn’t happen that quickly. 

M arrived sometime later.  She checked my bleeding, which was doing really well. I did tear, but only a tiny bit, not even enough to need stitches.  After examining the placenta to make sure it was intact we discussed cutting the cord.  I had originally wanted to keep the cord on for at least 12 hours, but since it fell in the toilet I was perfectly happy to go ahead and cut it.  Bret didn’t want to cut the cord and I had no real desire to.  E said she would be honored, so I let her do the honors.  Julian was there and wanted to cut it too, but then when it came down to it he told E, “you go first.”  Of course after the cord was cut then Julian wanted to take a turn, so E had the idea to let him cut a little off the end, and M happily obliged.  I love these ladies!  They measured how long the cord was- a full 36 inches.  3 feet!  That was one long cord!  (About the length of this birth story, I know.)

We did the whole weighing and measuring thing.  Kaya was 6 pounds, 4 ounces, and 19 ½ inches long. For paperwork purposes we guessed at Apgars and tried to determine a time of birth, which required checking our phones.  We finally decided to call it around 2:15 p.m. 

The Best Laid Plans…

Wow.  A precipitous breech hbac.  It took days to recover from the shock.  People say that I must feel so empowered now.  Maybe that will come in time, but for now I’m just glad we’re safe.  Birth generally does not happen that way, but I can’t deny that it was meant to be.  I’m not a particularly religious person, but I can’t argue with timing that perfect.  I didn’t want to be alone, but when it was absolutely critical for someone to help me, E arrived.  In fact, until the moment after it happened, it never even occurred to me that I would be the only one in the room when Kaya started coming out.  I had never had any fears about M not making it to my birth even though she was an hour away.  I wanted her there, but had she been there, we would have realized that Kaya had turned again, and I would most likely have had another c-section.  Had I known that she had turned breech again, I would have been freaking out.  Fear does not belong in birth.  Had I known, my brain would have interfered with what my body and my baby clearly knew how to do without my interference.  Someone on the ICAN list even pointed out that it was smart of her to wrap the cord around her neck to avoid cord prolapse, and do it in the spot least likely to result in cord compression.

I am so proud of my husband.  Poor Bret had no idea what to do.  He was so scared, and yet the worst he did was punching a hole in the wall.  He didn’t scream at the top of his lungs (like I was), he didn’t cuss anybody out, he didn’t do anything that would scare Julian, and he didn’t call 911.  He really kept it together, and I am incredibly proud of him.  The only thing I truly regret was not calling someone sooner for Julian.  He’s only 3; he should not have had to go through that alone.

Initially, I had reported to everyone that she was a footling breech. I was wrong.  I had thought that because of when I looked down and saw her feet.  However, after discussing it with M, we determined that she was a complete breech, based on the “Where’s her hair?”/pinching part, the molding of her feet, and how she likes to curl up.

We finally decided on a middle name 4 days later.  Kaya Brielle.  Kaya means “pure”, and Brielle means “strength from God.”  Fitting, I believe.  Incidentally, as I was telling my birth story to a friend that was at my Mother Blessing, she asked what time of day Kaya was born.  When I told her, she said that would be about the time that her yarn bracelet came untied… by itself.

Locks of Love- 'Nuff said

(I have a long post brewing, I just have to manage time to do it!)

On May 7th the school photographer came out to take pictures of Julian's Nature Tots class.  Enjoy!

This is the school.  This part is actually the house where a family lives, we use another wing of the building and the extensive grounds.

First thing in the morning when we get there the children are free to play or help the parents get the snack ready.  Julian decided to help chop nuts that day.

After free play for kids/purposeful work for adults it's time for circle time.  Since it was May, they danced around a May Pole!

After circle time we go inside for snack and story time, but we don't have any pics of those.  (Mainly because one of the children pulled the fire alarm during snack that day, so story time was skipped and we went straight to the final part of the day, a hike! 

The teacher found a toad!

A mud puddle!!!  (Proper attire for weather is required for this class, obviously.)

The hugging tree!!  JB always wants to be lifted up.  Thankfully the teacher is willing to, because the pregnant lady ain't supposed to!  Don't they both look so happy?

Have you hugged your tree today?

This is one of his classmates, I just think this picture is too adorable!!!