***I found this written back in 2011 but never published. I am no longer an LLL Leader but the skills, joy, and pride I got from volunteering with such a great organization will always remain part of me.***

I love what I do. Not at work, I actually love that too, but it is what I do outside of work that really fills my soul. While at an LLL meeting a mom approached be before I had even introduced myself as a leader.

"Are you a leader?" she asked with a shaky voice.

"Yes," I replied.

Tears feel from her eyes as she struggled with her very young baby and diaper bag, "I need help" she muttered quietly as she gave in and allowed more tears to stream her face.

I immediately stood up and led her to the back of the room where we chatted for over an hour. What was causing her breastfeeding problems and subsequent sorrow is irrelevant. What is important and selfishly gratifying is that I can quite possibly help! Imagine, sitting there quietly doing your own thing when someone approaches you with tears drawing moist lines down their exhausted face, they look at you desperate, and mutter, "I need help".

I never thought I would be in a position where strangers would seek me in their most critical time of need. The pressure is immense and I hope what I offer is good enough. I can only hope my information, my attitude, and my words nourish these women who so desperately need them to. I hope that I can live up to what they need me to be. It is rare that I get a follow up from women who seek my help so I continue to this without really knowing if I'm making that much of a difference but even if the above mentioned mother discontinues breastfeeding at least for those moments that I sat with her I was able to reassure her that she was doing a good job and that her baby is lucky to have her as a mom.

Yesterday (minus six years) Jamison turned five. (I started this post six years ago when Jamison turned five and finished it today when he turned 11). 

Breathe.

My baby turned five. He'll be starting kindergarten soon and then he'll be married, living on his own, and maybe even have kids. Whoa, slow down.

Breathe.

My baby. My very first baby. The little boy who chose me to mother him. The little boy who stood his ground as I tried all the parenting "tricks" everyone says you have to do. All the stupid parenting tricks.

So many.

He's the baby who taught me to listen to my instincts. He's the baby who paved the sometimes bumpy road for his little sister. He evens says, "Raquel is lucky that I taught mommy so that mommy didn't try stupid things with her." He's right. He's smart. He's intuitive. He's kind. He's generous. Generous beyond his years. More generous than most adults. I am extremely proud of what my little five year old is growing into.

FIVE!!!

Breathe.

I wrote his birth story in technical terms, as if it were notes taken by a medical student. All my emotion was tied up in my beautiful new baby not his birth. He was small enough to be held using just one arm but his presence was enough to fill the world.  His birth did not go as I had hoped but I had my baby and that's all I cared about. So I jotted down the facts of his birth. Labor started at 3am, at 5pm we went to the hospital, at 5am he was born... but his birth was more than just a series of events. His birth was beautiful, meaningful, long, scary, tiring, medical, and more. It wasn't until the natural, unmedicated, perfectly as planned birth of his sister did I realize the beauty in Jamison's birth. The beauty in my birth. My birth to my baby boy. So what better way to honor his fifth birthday than to honor his birth and finally, proudly, tell the story of his birth. The birth that sent me into the world of motherhood.

Breathe.

It was 3 in the morning on April 6th. I was awakened by what I assumed to be contractions. This assumption was based on the intensity being enough to wake and keep me up. Or maybe what kept me up was the hope of getting to meet my baby boy who had stayed snuggled comfortably in the womb for 3 days longer than expected. I was eager to start this mothering thing so three days felt more like three months. This was my second pregnancy but only my first successful one. We, Rob and I, tried for him, we planned for him, we waited for him. Patiently waited for him as my due date came and went. And here I was, 3am and unable to sleep. My body filled with excitement that flowed through me like a fast flowing river pushing through my blood vessels. It was April 6th. I can't remember the weather 5 years ago but I considered taking a walk so it must have been nice enough for fresh air. I woke Rob up. The anticipation of Jamison's looming birth was more than I could handle alone. Rob seemed to have the same flow of excitement through him because he was up and ready to care for me.

Breathe

My plan was to labor at home as long as possible, then head to the hospital and hopefully be so close to pushing that no drugs or interventions would be required. I hired a doula to help me reach this goal. So at home I labored. Rob brought me pineapple, water, and anything else I requested all the while packing our hospital bag. That's right, we waited until my "past due" baby started to announce himself before packing the bags. As Rob ran around frantically filling up our bags, and oddly enough cleaning up the house, I remember shouting some demands at him. To which he responded, "I'm a little stressed out here." We both were. There were big changes and neither of us were able to comprehend in the slightest just how big those changes would be. And I kept laboring. My positions of choice were in bed on my left side or leaning over the birth ball while Rob rubbed my lower back in an attempt to soothe the back labor I was feeling. The back labor was getting intense but it was manageable.

Breathe

After I had been in labor for over 10 hours (or more) my parents showed up from St George and my doula arrived. I was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by everything, the length of the labor, the people in my house, the pain of the labor, and of course the soon to be baby in my arms. I was eager to get settled in where this baby was going to be born, St Marks hospital. So around 5PM the birthing team headed on over to the hospital. My doula, Angie, supported my decision to go to the hospital but reassured me that I could stay home longer if I wanted. I chose to get going. Angie gave me some suggestions to ease the discomfort that was sure to come with a car ride but I declined them as I felt safer in the seat with the seatbelt on. Laboring women and cars do not mix. The ride was horribly uncomfortable and the fifteen minute drive to the hospital seemed to go on forever. The focus I had at home was lost in the car and my contractions became unbearable. My back felt as though it could be splitting in two so in order to cope I kept telling myself if I am dilated to a 7 a can do this. If I am a 7 I can do this, I can keep going...if I am a 7.

Breathe

Once at the hospital I was assigned a room and a nurse after checking in with some crying at the counter. I was terribly uncomfortable and exhausted. I had it in my head that the average first time labor was 12 to 15 hours. I SHOUDL BE HOLDING MY BABY BY NOW. The nurse, for some reason, did not like me laying on my left side which was one of the few positions I could handle. So she rolled me onto my back and held my arms down. She held me down! I desired my arms to be bent and by my face, my nurse desired them to be down and at my side. I experienced unbearable pain in that position but I laid there as I was told. The nurse checked my dilation and I was a TWO!!! The word, "two" fell from my mouth as I lost control of my entire body. The blow of hearing I was only a two after 15 hours of labor was more than I could recover from. Without a doubt I wanted an epidural and in that instant requested one. My sweet and supportive doula knew I meant it and supported my decision.

Breathe

After a arduous attempt at getting an IV in failed multiple times the anesthesiologist was called in, she did a wonderful job but I pulled it out on accident when I changed position. So she stuck me again. I waited desperately for someone to come in and give me the epidural while my doula offered her support to help me cope through each painful contraction. Without her I don't know how I would have gotten through this part. I had already given up. I was no longer focusing through the pain of contractions but rather crying through them. I wanted and needed pain relief. When an epidural was finally placed I was relieved, relaxed, and began enjoying this birth. My biggest concern was that the epidural would wear off and I'd have to experience the unimaginable pain of another contraction.

We discussed watching a movie but the selection was terrible so we chatted. We chatted about how exciting it would be to have our first baby and about how hungry I was. My family snuck me some crackers against doctor's orders. Many hours later I was dilated to a 5 1/2. My labor wasn't progressing so the resident doctor suggested breaking my water.  I agreed with the support of my doula and family. It helped a little but labor was still slow.

***The above was written and never finished 6 years ago. I guess you could say I got busy. Today Jamison turns 11. Breath. Today I visited this blog for the first time in 6 years to remind myself of Jamison's birth and found this revision of his birth story left incomplete and forgotten about. Below I will do my best to finish the beautiful story of his birth.***

Breath.

At one point I experienced a contraction that would not stop which caused Jamison's heart rate to drop. I was given medication to stop the contraction, oxygen, and a position change. This all helped Jamison and his heart rate returned to normal but labor had stalled and so pitocin was started. Things moved along slowly until I was at 7 centimeters. Thanks to my doula's notes I can say that by this time I had been laboring for 24 hours and the day had switched over from Sunday to Monday. When I was checked again I was a 6. Dilation had gone backwards due to cervical swelling. At this time it was determined that a cesarean birth would be necessary. I was happy to have an end in sight. I had been laboring for over 24 hours, I was tired hungry, and I wanted to meet my little boy. Rob suited up and I was prepped for a c section. The lights were bright, the room was cold, and operating table was hard but I was happy to be there. I was happy to be done with labor and meet my baby. With me, Rob, the anesthesiologist, the doctor, and a nurse there were five us. And then, just like that at 5:03 in the morning, there were 6. I heard Jamison cry and my exhaustion melted away. I was a mom! Rob jumped up to see him and snapped some photos. He ran back to where my head was and showed a picture of our son from the screen of his camera. It wasn't the way I thought I'd see my baby for the first time but his full head of hair and apple red cheeks were so delightful I didn't care. I was proud, content, and in awe that my corner of the world had just gotten beautifully complicated.


As of 5:03 this morning I was officially the mother of a preteen. His kindness, honesty, and generosity are inspirational to those who are fortunate enough to know him. His sense of humor sometimes sneaks past me but when I catch it I’m left laughing for days. He cares deeply for others, from bugs to people, and has been known to revive worms from their death beds. He can’t play soccer to save his life, once kicking the ball to the other team because he, “didn’t want them to feel sad for not getting a turn,” but can skateboard like he has no fear. My little portion of this world is a fantastic place to be with this kiddo in it. Happy birthday to my first born, Jamison. Whoa, slow down! 

I don't blog enough. I simply do not blog enough. My children are growing up faster than I can put them to bed and it is passing by with little documentation. So here is a quick update.

Some things worth noting: 

 Photo taken today 3/2/13


On July 23, 2012 Raquel said "bye" for the first time.

7/30/12
L shook her head "no" at me when I tried to give her Vitamin D drops. I was trying to give her vitamin D drops and with a grin as big as she could do while still holding her mouth tightly shut (unlike her, she loves those drops) she proudly shook her head side to side. I think she was just testing out her new skill. It's not that she didn't want the drops but that she had been waiting for a chance, any chance, to let me know what she could do.

8/14/12
L threw my washable nursing pad in the toilet...while J was pooping in it. I threw it away after fishing it out. Oh the life of a mother.

8/20/12
Raquel not quit 13 months has recently started shaking her head "yes". She's been shaking her head "no" for a week or so but "yes" she seems to do with much more excitement than "no." She also says, mama, dada, hi, bye, and, yeah. Too cute.

Oh yeah she also signs, "milk," "more," and "all done" and also waves but has actually been waving now for a while.

10/29/12
Raquel went potty on the toilet for the first time!!! She came walking into the bathroom, grabbed her potty seat, put it on the toilet, and started asking for help onto it. Then she peed!!! Fully initiated by herself.

11/26/12
Raquel's words at 16 months in order of when she said them: mama, dada (maybe), hi, bye, eye,  I love you (slurred together to sound like ILaOo, hot (pronounced ha), dog (sometimes pronounced da sometimes pronounced og), bite (pronounced ite). I've been told she also says car but have yet to hear it, and today she said dada with definite intent; she looked at Rob, pointed at him, and said "dada."

12/16/12
Raquel finally has more than 4 teeth. She cut her fifth one yesterday.

12/28/12
Raquel has cut her 6th tooth!

12/28/12
I heard L making kissing noises over and over so I take a look at her to see that she was holding the the hand held mirror up to her pudgy little face, was looking in it at herself in awe as she continued to "kiss" herself with the curiosity only a 17 month old could possess.

Cute things Jamison has said: 

  Photo taken today 3/2/13

7/25/12 (Raquel's birthday)
J: Mom, is Raquel one?
Me: yes
J: But why isn't she talking to me than?

7/3012
J: I thought I was going to be a bird when I came out of your belly and I was sad when I wasn't in a nest.

Hm, maybe the Buddhists have it right.

 7/31/12
J's dream: I dreamt I was an adult in a kid pool and I put my whole head in the water.

7/31/12
While clipping J's nails he said, "mom, when you get old and can't clip your fingernails, I'll clip them for you when I'm an adult" He actually sounded very excited like it was a brilliant idea. Brilliantly compassionate. He's so sweet. I think I'll hold him to this one.

8/2/12
J: I just kissed Raquel. That means I love her. I'll never stop loving her. I just can't stop loving her. I also can't stop loving you, mommy. I can't stop loving my whole flamily (yes, I know it's mispelled, that's how J says it).
Me: Oh Jamison. I can't stop loving you. No matter what I will always love you. I will love you if you make good choices. I will love you if you make bad choices. I will love you if you make silly choices.
J: you just made me happy.

8/22/12
Me: you can pick whatever you want to wear for your first day of school. You can pick something that shows who you are.
J: I don't have anything like that.
Me: You don't?
J: Yeah, none of my clothes have my name on it.

9/5/12
Me: What did you do in class?
J: We sand a song but I didn't sing.
Me: Did anyone else not sing?
J: Nope, just me.
Me: Why didn't you sing in class?
J: Because it is boring... I really mean it (he said as he held out his pointer finger pointing it slightly towards me and then giving it a little shake as if to show me how serious he was).
Me: That's okay. You don't have to sing if you don't want to.
J: but don't worry about me because I'm learning lots of things (he said in a rather reassuring tone).

9/8/12
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, can I have a sucker?
Me: no
J: Mommy, this is your last chance give me a sucker.

He got a sucker. Hey, don't think of me as a parent that caves under whiny pressure, he said it was my last chance.

 9/25/12
J to Raquel after I asked Raquel not to do something: Raquel, you don't have to listen to mommy.

They're already ganging up on me!!!

10/26/12
Yesterday J kept wandering off into the guest room. Whenever I checked on him I found him staring at his class photo. He even brought the photo to bed with him. When I asked him what he was looking at in his class photo he said, "the girl with the curly hair." I said do you like her," he replied, "yes. I don't know her name though but sometimes we play at recess." I think my son may have his first little boy crush.

10/31/12
After trick or treating J said, "I got a lot of candy so my whole family could have some."

11/28/12
J: Mom, do you know who my favorite grown up is?
Me: Who?
J: Daddy and Santa Clause

How exactly did I come in below Santa? Actually it seems more like I don't come in on that list at all. Doesn't matter, I still love that little kid with every cell in my body.

11/30/12
So this one is, ahem, lets just say not G rated.

J to me: What's a pussy?
Me: says nothing. Stares blankly unable to make eye contact with my innocent 4 year old. I took a deep breath as I sorted out exactly how I would answer his question...
J followed up with: Garfield is a big fat pussycat.

Um, yeah, I'm corrupted. How did I possibly think he meant anything other than a pussycat.

12/9/12
J: Mom, we gotta help someone out for Christmas. Like if there was a kid who don't have any shoes, we have to buy him some.

I can honestly say I do nothing to prompt these kinds of statements from him yet they are frequent. Jamison is innately kind, generous, and compassionate. I'd love to take credit with my wonderful parenting but Jamison is gentle through and through with or without my style of parenting. I am so proud of who he is becoming.

12/12/12
J: Mom, maybe for Christmas you'll get me Chick Hicks and the King because you like me so much and because I'm your son and Daddy's son.

Cute reasoning of a 4 year old.

12/16/12
J: Mom, just loving Lola makes my heart feel bigger.

Just hearing that fills mine up with joy.

12/18/12

J: Mom, I have two jobs. One is to take care of Raquel and two is me and Raquel make sure you and daddy have lots of love.

12/24/12
Mom, do you want to know what's more important than presents or toys? My family.

I see an overall theme here of generosity, compassion, love,  and caring beyond what I would expect form a four year old. He's an amazing little guy.

 

Raquel's Revised Birth Story

It was 6 days past my due date, I was being taken over by a mild but itchy case of PUPPS (Pruritic Urticarial Papules and Plaques of Pregnancy) when I was woken up by the distantly familiar feelings of labor at 3 in the morning. I was having short and mild contractions but not so short or mild that I was able to go back to sleep again. I tried. After 30 minutes and several contractions later I accepted I would not be sleeping again without a baby next to me and got out of bed. It was the end of our current family dynamic and the beginning of something new, something better, the beginning of life. This planet was about to get a little more beautiful. I went into the living room, got some snacks, and began focusing through my contractions. I appreciated the time alone and was enjoying trying different positions that worked for me. I wasn't having any difficulty getting through each contraction but was "practicing" for when things got harder.


Around 5am I was pleased to see the surprised face of my sweet husband, he had not even noticed I wasn't in bed when he got up, so when he walked into the living room to find me kneeling over the couch he was caught off guard. I told him I had been having regular contractions for the last couple hours but that he should go ahead and go on his regularly scheduled morning bike ride, he just needed to keep it short. He refused, good man, and I was happy as this meant we could go for a walk together. We woke my mom up to let her know what was going on and also so we could put Jamison into her bed. We didn't want him to wake up alone in our family bed and wonder where we were. At this point my mom told me that before bed she had lit a candle and said a small prayer the night before encouraging my body to start the process of bringing life to our side of the world. It worked! So around 530 in the morning Rob and I went walking around our neighborhood together. The morning air was a perfectly crisp temperature somewhere in the low 70s, there was a bright sliver of a moon in the sky that gently lit the sidewalk, and the birds were just beginning to chirp. It was just us with an occasional car leaving for an early morning shift. I already felt somewhat disconnected from life outside my body as I focused on the task at hand. We stayed close to home but walked around the block many times while Rob timed my contractions using a cell phone application made just for this. Sometimes I was able to keep walking through the contractions but sometimes I would have to stop and lean onto Rob for support while I waited for them to pass. After I was no longer comfortable walking around we went back home to labor some more there. I spent time leaning on Rob, leaning on the pony wall, leaning over the birth ball and even in the tub.


My mom and Jamison eventually woke up and wonderful Jamison was so quiet and so gentle through all of it. He did not worry about me; my mom made sure to inform him that I was working very hard to bring his baby sister here and that he needed to be calm and quiet for me. His thoughtful three year old mind could somehow understand the magnitude of bringing forth life as he did a great job at staying calm and quiet while I focused through each contraction. After several more hours my contractions were becoming ever more powerful and were accompanied by some spotting, something I never had while in labor with Jamison. This gave me hope that I was making some progress, though fear still gripped me tight as I mulled over my previous birth, beautiful as it was, I did not want another cesarean section.


We contacted our Doula and requested she come to our house but it was no more than a few minutes later when we decided we would meet her at the hospital after all as both Rob and I were getting anxious. I was feeling eager to settle into where my baby was going to be born and I really wanted the car ride over with. We left my mom and Jamison behind so that they could make arrangements for Jamison to be picked up. We headed for the U of U hospital around 10AM but not before my very sweet son gently put my sandals on my feet as a lay over the birth ball.

Before labor started I was petrified of the car ride but it wasn't as bad as I thought even with bumper to bumper traffic down foothill blvd. I spent the entire car ride on my knees in the front seat leaning over the back of it. With each contraction I visualized the word "OPEN". I was so afraid this would be just like my previous labor that the word "OPEN" seemed the most appropriate word to think of. My labor had, after all, started similar to Jamison's. Both started at 3 in the morning and both started with no dilation and little effacement. Not to mention baby was not in an anterior position, much like J, to only further discourage me but I kept an open mind and tried to relax. I was working together with my baby girl; a new birth, a new baby.


I remained hopeful. Hopeful that I would get to the hospital and be at least a 6. If I was a 6 I would be happy, I thought. I should have known better from last time not to pick numbers and then place such importance on them that it could change the course of my birth. Once at the hospital the nurses immediately put me in the closest room and began asking a battery of questions to check me in. Rob answering all of them, of course. I was told to get undressed from the waist down before they could start checking baby's heart rate but I was never asked to put on a hospital gown. No one cared that I remained in my own clothing, a black over-sized night gown that clung tightly to my pregnant belly. This was significant to me because I specifically did not want to have to deal with changing my clothes during labor. They hooked me up to the monitor all the while letting me take the time and positions I needed to make it through each contractions. I knew this part was going to be a challenge and I new I was going to get "extra attention" due to my previous cesarean birth but all the while the nurses remained respectful and patient. "Good job, girl. You're doing great" both nurses kept saying; quite a contrast from being held down by one of the nurses while laboring with Jamison. Once they got a heartbeat on the monitor they had me lay down to check for dilation. This part was difficult and probably would have been better off not done at all, laying down was extremely uncomfortable and the result was just discouraging anyway. They told me I was a 4 1/2. I was hoping for so much more and all I could do was chuckle a bit. I wasn't going to give up! I was determined! In response to my reaction the nurse said, "You must be happy about this given your smile" I informed them it was a smile of disappointment. At this point I told myself I will wait to get settled in with my doula and my midwife before I make any decisions about pain medication. I tried to back track from my desire to be a 6 and continue to trust my body, to trust each powerful contraction, and to trust that my body, and my baby, were capable.


After they determined baby's heart rate was fine and that I would be admitted I was taken to the room I would actually be delivering in. I honestly have no memory of how I got to that room, probably walking, but once there I was able to lean over a birth ball (my most beloved position), and have my full support team there and available to me. My doula showed up, my mom showed up, and I even got the midwife I was hoping would be on call! My midwife came quietly walking in while I was in the middle of a contraction, she gently but confidently walked up and did a hip squeeze maneuver that immediately helped relieve the intensity of the contraction. From then on out someone (sometimes two people at a time) applied the same pressure to my hips with every contraction. I was taking it one contraction at a time while everyone was encouraging me, rubbing my back, pressing in certain areas to decrease the pain and various other ways of keeping me going. All of it, every bit of it, was so very helpful. Every women in the room, as well as the one man (my husband), were doing everything perfect. Absolutely perfect. Every touch, every word of encouragement, everyone was working together to make this easier for me and it worked! When my midwife left the room I felt a sense of fear, I didn't want her to leave, her presence was comforting, but it was brief, and it was to get some essential oils to spray around the room. I could feel the cool mist gently landing on my back and the smell was refreshing. Everything that everyone did was to support and encourage me so that I could let my body birth as it was meant to do.


At one point the nurse asked me, "you plan on going un-medicated, right?" I laughed and told her that was yet to be decided. It was certainly the goal but at this point I had my doubts. She responded with "well, if you want pain relief that is your choice but I will not bring it up again, so if you want it you can ask". Prefect I thought.


I continued to labor. My Doula reminding me to relax and to moan low, rubbing my back and helping me stay focused. My midwife rubbing my back and feet all the while monitoring my well being as well as my baby's. My mom moaning with me to remind me to keep my sounds low and productive. It was perfect, I was comfortable making whatever noises I needed knowing my mom was right there doing it too! I guess a mother never loses touch with her daughter. My sweet husband gently whispering in my ear that I was doing a good job, helping with hip squeezes, and taking me to the bathroom whenever I needed. When I was checked again I was a 7 1/2. I had a bit of a negative attitude as I was sure my labor wouldn't progress like last time. I complained that I was only a 7 1/2 but my doula gently reminded me that I was farther dilated than I ever did with my last labor. My midwife pointed out how fast I had gone from a 4 1/2 to over a 7. At this point they had to change the location of the fetal monitor from high up on my right side to down low on my left side; baby had rotated to a better position and was down low! I continued taking it one intense contraction at a time all the while thinking, if I want drugs I can get them. The truth is I didn't want them, not any of them, I was not interested in them coming in and messing with me; making me lay down, making me get IV fluids etc. Some positions were so horribly painful I thought if I ask for an epidural and they make me lay down I will die, it just didn't seem worth it. So I kept relying on my support team to make things bearable. I cannot emphasize enough that the tricks these ladies knew, and shared with my mom and Rob, were amazing. Absolutely amazing! The words each person said, the touch, the scents, it was all too much to even ask for yet I got it all. Everyone worked so well together it was just perfect!


I soon began getting the urge to push. With each contraction my moans changed from pain coping sounds to short grunting sounds. "I think she's pushing" I heard someone say. "I think I'm pushing" I said in response. It was almost over I thought but really it was only beginning! I was standing and could not for the life of me lay down. My midwife checked me while I stood but did mention it was a hard position to check in. She thought I might be a 10 and told me if I had the urge I could push if I wanted. So I pushed just as I had been. Little nudges and not much more. My midwife requested I lay on my side on the bed so that she could check me better as she felt a little unsure about her last check. She was extremely apologetic when she had to give me the bad news that I was really still an 8. "AN 8!" I exclaimed. "I can't do this, I can't do this" I began saying. I was an 8 twenty minute ago, which isn't long, but at the time it felt like an eternity. "I want an epidural." Although I had crawled deep within myself hours earlier I had now lost focus and was losing control. The pain and intensity was taking over and I wanted to give up. I think they call this transition! My doula mentioned breaking my water as one option to speed things up, I declined as I was terrified things might get more intense than I felt I would be able to handle. My midwife agreed and supported my decision so we left them intact. Everyone reminded me that an 8 was really good.


My midwife, sensing fear spilling over from my last birthing experience, got eye level with me and gently but sternly said, "Meghan, this is not like your last. This is different".


My doula encouraged me to go 3 or 4 more contractions and then reevaluate. I agreed to go 2 more but it would be many more before I brought up pain medication again, mainly because I slipped so far into a different place there really wasn't much room to think about anything other than getting through it. The contractions were so intense, more than my mind could handle, they were flooding over my entire body;  from every hair on my head to the tips of my toes I could feel the intensity and power of each contraction. My mind had shut off, submitting fully to my body as my body took over and labor continued. It was around this time Rob and my mom started offering me some personal items I had brought with me intended to give me strength. I chose a charm Rob had given me at the conclusion of our birth class and focused on it in my hand. With each contraction I dragged my fingernail over each raised line of the symbol that represented a labyrinth.


After a few more contractions my doula and midwife suggested I change positions, I chose to stand at the edge of the bed again. Another contraction! Another slight urge to push and immediately I felt like I had been hit by a freight train. My water broke the pressure changed, the sensation changed and I collapsed. My knees buckled and I completely collapsed into a squat as my arms reached up holding onto the edge of the bed. My mom was holding tight to my arms from across the other side of the bed, my doula, midwife and Rob all holding me up from behind. I screamed, no moaned. I never screamed, I was never scared. I had no control of my body, none, every single muscle pushed without asking for permission and pushed with a fierce strength I never knew I had. My body had completely taken over. Imagine standing on a train track and suddenly, without warning, a train comes and slams into you from behind, you never saw it coming. That is the best way I can explain the sudden intensity of having that urge to push. Finally the pressure, the train, it stopped. I stood up, I breathed, I relaxed. I almost felt like I could fall asleep but not enough time; another contraction, another chance for my muscles to take over. I collapsed again, being held up by my team, I moaned, I felt pain and pressure so severe, so strong, so intense I had checked out of my body...but I wasn't scared. If before my mind "shut off submitting fully to my body" it had now walked off, left the room, left the planet. I trusted my team and they continuously reassured me I was doing good. I knew if anything went wrong I was taken care of, I was safe. I could focus solely on getting my baby out. My midwife began instructing the nurses to get the squat bar. In between contractions I climbed up onto the bed and was told how to effectively use the squat bar. It was a great place to be at that time in my labor; brilliant was my Midwife to recognize the need for it. More contractions, more pushing, more freight train, more giving into my body.


I even joked "is it too late for an epidural?" I asked in between pushing. I was told by many natural birthing mamas the pain stops when the pushing starts. To that I say bull. I was looking forward to pushing the entire time in hopes of finding some relief. My doula put it best when I met her before labor "you welcome the change in sensation" this is true but that "change in sensation" came with other things that were not necessarily welcomed. Regardless I was happy to be getting close. At his point my midwife noticed I still had a "lip" left on my cervix, pretty bad news to me but turns out it was as simple as her going "let me see if I can just push this out of the way" and away it went, no biggie.


"Meghan, do you want to feel her head?" I said no. Not sure why I wasn't interested in such an amazing opportunity but my Midwife knew it was one I wouldn't want to miss. "Meghan, reach down here and feel her head" I did it. My response, "that is it? That is hardly out" I was such a downer. I had spent the entire labor concerned of not progressing like last time. It seemed no matter how much progress I made I was convinced it wasn't enough. So my amazing birth team, yet again, reminded me of my great progress.


I kept pushing when I had the urge and relaxing when I didn't. My midwife patiently watched and waited and simply supported me. Then her demeanor changed a bit. She began telling me I needed to push and push hard, even instructing me to push in between contractions. She looked at me, she was serious. "I need to do an episiotomy. I haven't done one in 4 or 5 years, I'm so sorry". I remember talking about episiotomies at the clinic. The Midwives were against them unless they were absolutely necessary. I didn't fully understand the seriousness of the situation but I knew something had to be going on. I wasn't scared, I trusted my team.


At this point my husband said things got kind of crazy in the birthing room. My daughter's heart rate had dropped, and dropped low into the 60s only recovering into the 90s. This pattern was remaining despite my teams best efforts. I was changing positions and given oxygen to try and help baby girl get more but it wasn't working. There was the potential that she would need to be resuscitated upon coming out. I never felt scared. My midwife was never panicked, she never made me feel fearful, she acted quick, she made good decisions, and I trusted her fully.

"Will you numb it?"

"There is no need, the baby's head on the perineum is a natural anesthesia, you won't feel it." she was right, I didn't feel a thing.


I kept pushing until I felt her head slide out! The burning and pain decreased immediately and it felt as though the rest of her slid right out. I later learned, due to a tight cord wrapped around my baby's neck, my midwife did some cool midwife trick to help get her out quickly without having to prematurely cut the tight cord. A quick check by the midwife to make sure all was okay and just like that she was on my chest. She was damp but easy to hold onto, not slippery like I thought she would be. Her smell, it was 'earthy'. It was pleasant, it was the scent of life, of hard work, of strength beyond comprehension, it was of me and her. I will never forget her smell. So distinct but completely hard to describe.


She was perfectly healthy and I believe my midwife's quick decisions and cool maneuvers were a huge part of my baby's health! Her cord was wrapped tightly around her neck, her arm and her body. In most situations the cord around the neck is not a big deal however in my baby's situation it was very tight. My amazing midwife did some cool midwife trick where you keep baby's head close to mom's thigh and flip her around doing some somersault thingy, apparently it's something to do when the cord is too tight. Rob got to watch and said it was pretty cool. I hardly knew any of this was going on, I never felt scared. I trusted my team.


"Can someone get the resident?" My midwife asked. She had begun stitching me. I looked at her face and she was focused. She kept inspecting me, stitching me, cleaning me but the resident never came. No one got him, no one listened to her. "I need someone to get Jacob right now" she sternly repeated. I had lost 500mls of blood. Anything over 500mls is a hemorrhage but I never felt scared.


Jacob came in and I was offered an epidural by the resident while they did repairs. Apparently some areas were deep enough inside and bad enough it was difficult to get numb. I declined the epidural. I was not about to go through what I just went through only to have an epidural for some stitches. They numbed me up as best they could, which wasn't good enough and what seemed like over an hour (and probably was) I had a clean bill of health!


Baby girl born VBAC July 25, 2011 8 lbs 4.5 oz at 2:05 PM.

I DID IT!

Oh the funny things he says...

Oh the funny things he says...

"Dad, soon I'll have big nipples like you but not like girl nipples. Soon they will be hairy around." Lifts his shirt up I show us where the hair will be.

Poor Jamison was brought to tears today *sorry don't know what "today" was but this was at least a month or two ago* when I told him all the dinosaurs are dead.  He began crying and said he wanted to see them at the zoo and didn't believe me when I told him the ones at the zoo were robots because, "robots don't have skin" he tearfully said he didn't want the dinosaurs to be dead.

M: what do you want for your birthday? Geo Trax? Chuck and handy?
J: I don't want you to go back to work, I just want one thing.

"Papa banana having a cat is sure not easy." As Noni chased a bird out of the house.

J: Mommy, did daddy be your fertilizer so that I could grow in your belly?
Me: yep
J: how about daddy fertilize another one to grow in your belly?

J slightly worried said, "mom, did all your teeth fall out when you were growing into an adult?"

J was playing with my old cabbage patch dolls I gave him.
M: what is your babies name?
J: bob cotless.
M: bob cotless?
J: yes, what's your baby's name?
M: Raquel and Jamison
J: mom, don't say I'm a baby because I'm pretending to be a daddy.

Jamison said, "mom I can hardly stand it, I love you more than ever"

"Mom when I grow up I'll drive all the way to Michelle's and buy me a nice boy cat"





And a couple things about baby L:

I noticed Raquel cut her first tooth early this morning. (4/11/12)

L is cracking me up! She's in such a good mood babbling like crazy and blowing raspberries in the back of the car. Smiling at J and trying so hard to engage him.  Plus she was laughing so hard while I pushed J in the swing today, she was in the ergo. (3/23/22)

Raquel, Raquel, Raquel. Dear sweet Raquel. You throw yourself on the floor with the slightest bit of disappointment but your smiles are many. You say, mama, dada, hi and bye although the latter two are indistinguishable audibly and can only be separated by the context they are used in. E.g. coming versus going. Today I hear Raquel around the corner saying, "i, i, i" I look to see her right up in Lola's face waving at her. Hahahah. Saying hi to the dog. Too cute.

My compassionate Jamison, I will always mourn the loss of our one on one relationship despite the fact that I thoroughly enjoy our dynamics as a trio (referring to our day to day stay at home lives, obviously we are a complete family with four). Jamison starts preschool soon and often tells me he is excited and nervous. Sounds perfectly normal to me and I let him know that. We have also discovered the wonderful world of the library! We have enough books to stock our own library so I was quite surprised when I realized that Jamison is sick of all our books. It became obvious when he started asking me to pull out the Christmas books. Really though I should have seen it sooner as I was awfully sick of reading them over and over again. I love The Cat In The Hat but after reading it for the 20th time love became downgraded to like and then shortly after that I simply appreciated it. Now we go to the library often, switching out the books we choose last week for the newest ones we want this week. Last week it was all about Clifford, this week it Curious George. Jamison gathers up as many books as he can carry, then a few more, and we sit and read as long as Raquel will let us. He then must pick no more than six books for him and one for Raquel. Nothing special about the number seven except that it is the number of books I have decided I can keep in the chaos of my home without losing them. It is always hard for him to narrow it down but when I remind him we get to come back he's more open to the idea of leaving some behind.

Yesterday morning Rob said to me, "It's the first day of July". My chest tightened and I struggled to breathe. That meant this month my baby, my last and final baby, turns one! My baby turns one this month! Breathe... Someone help me figure out where time went. I didn't blink, I didn't sleep, I didn't want to miss a moment and here we are almost one year later and it's all so distant. Sigh.

It also led me to realize that I have not blogged in a long time. I'm not an avid blogger and it's quite normal for me to only write once every few months when I really want to be writing once a week at least. Time goes by too fast and little things you think you'll remember, you forget. I don't want to forget how amazing my life has been over this past year. I don't want to forget how well rounded our family has become since Raquel has entered it. 

So here is a quick update: 

Raquel took her first steps a few days after she turned 9 months but it wouldn't be another few weeks until she was officially up and on her feet as a walking baby. People always commented, "she looks too little to be walking." Well, that is because she was. It was because she was still suppose to be a baby, my baby, not some walking toddler. At least she nurses all night like a baby. I'm not sure if that was shaded with sarcasm or if I'm actually satisfied by her nursing patterns. Ultimately, I'm not in a rush to push her into childhood. I'm enjoying letting her set the pace. I missed a lot of that with Jamison because I was sucked into how our culture tells us to raise children. All the books and advice simply polluted my parenting and restricted my instincts. Jamison taught me so much, so fast. I'm glad I was able to push a lot of it out of my head and simply be his mommy based on what felt right for us. If only I could start from day one again with him but this time with the knowledge he gave me. He is the child that made me a mother. I was just as confused about my new position as my baby boy was about his but we learned together. He was stubborn, demanding, and refused to let me parent in ways that didn't nurture his little soul. Because of him I learned how to be the kind of mom I want to be. Because of him I continue to grow into the person and mother I love to be. Raquel thanks him because she didn't have to go through all that  crap. I felt confident to parent her based on my instincts from the moment labor began. 


So back to updates. Raquel's walking, J finished a semester at The Little Gym and everyone laughed while he pretended to be asleep during the medal ceremony for him and his classmates, blah blah blah. This is why I don't blog, I'm already bored with the updates. Am I bad mother? Shouldn't I enjoy writing about all the wonderful, new things my kids are doing? I'll end this a sweet pictures of my babies. 

 

An evening family walk sounds amazing. I haven't done that in a loooong time. Last spring/summer I was too pregnant, last summer/fall I was too out of it and sleep deprived with a baby who completely lost it in the early evening (a very small price to pay for such an amazing baby). To this summer, I say bring it on!! This summer is the summer for walks, gardens and bbqs!!! Even better I get to experience it with my perfectly complete family! I'm blessed, no doubt.

One coffe table, lots of blood and nine stitches later.

It was a very hard thunk on the coffee table. I knew it wasn't going to be good. Rob scooped J up and held him close, I looked at J and moved Rob's hand to do the standard 'is there any blood/damage' evaluation. I saw a very wide and deep gash spewing blood like a faucet. Man, those head wounds are gushers. It's amazing how strong you can be when you know your child's well being is at stake. I wanted to scream and cry and throw up but instead calmly reassured J everything was fine. Suddenly I'm feeling horribly guilty for the car accidents, broken bones, and stitches I put my parents through. Nine stitches later and lots of screams we are on the road to recovery.

I'm not getting anything done!

My baby won't sleep unless being held or nursed. I don't mean that I simply parent her to sleep, I mean that I parent her to sleep and then must continue holding her or else she will certainly wake up the moment I'm no longer present. To some this may be a huge inconvenience and I understand why. There are many days when it is inconvenient for me too. But at this moment it's a blessing. At this moment, as I sit by the window, baby strapped to me with my nose buried in her fuzzy hair, I take in deep breaths of my baby's sent knowing that her hair is growing and changing. Soon it will be replaced with the more course hair a toddler gets. I know her need to be held will pass, I know it's only a matter of months before she will no longer privilege me with the feeling of her tiny chest moving up down against mine. There are a thousand things I need to do but there is only one thing my baby needs right now. Inconvenient? Maybe. Blessing? Absolutely.

I don't want to forget...

I hardly remember Jamison as a baby unless I look at pictures. I'm so glad I have a lot of them. As great as pictures are there is something about words that captures emotions and feelings really well for me. So with that in mind I'm writing the following:

Things I don't want to forget about J
I don't want to forget that he use to say, "Look at that, daddy" with a huge inflection on "that".
I don't want to forget that he use to say, "Hold you" instead of "hold me" or that he use to say "what, you said" instead of, "what did you say"
I don't want to forget that he use to have really fuzzy and really white hair until sometime between 2 1/2 and 3.
I don't want to forget that every day he pretends to be some animal, anything from a "helping dog" to a "helping cow" and even just a regular dog or one he calls "martha dog". Sometimes a dinosaur usually a T rex.
I don't want to forget that he always wants to race me, that his hugs are tight and given generously, that he use to eat chap stick and refused to give kisses if he had chap stick on.
I don't want to forget that I took a bath with him every night when he was a baby. That he always fell asleep nursing in the tub and then happily went to his daddy when it was time for him to get out.
I don't want to forget that the first time he crawled he moved his left hand forward, than his right hand and then both legs did a little hop forward as though he were a tripod.
I don't want to forget that J calls his baby sister "Daquel"

Things I don't want to forget about L
I don't want to forget that her upper lip often tucks under when she nurses. That she quietly moans as she falls asleep at the breast, full and content.
I don't want to forget that she loves tags. She loves to suck on them.
I don't want to forget that she loves to splash when she is in the bath.
I don't want to forget that she expresses her anger with a ferocious growling like cry or that her laughs are hard to come by but are beautiful to listen to. That the first time she laughed was while I was in the bath tub with both kids the night before Rob's Ironman, Jamison splashed and Raquel chuckled.
I don't want to forget how much she babbles and that one of her more common babbles includes "bwa, bwa".
I don't want to forget that she thoroughly enjoys sucking on chunks of my hair.
I don't want to forget that whenever I push J on the swing I feel Raquel's stomach chuckling, in and out, as it hits against mine while she's snug to me in the Ergo baby carrier.
I don't want to forget what it feels like to have her whole body pressed against mine, belly to belly, as we sleep at night. 

Growing up

Raquel is growing fast. Faster than I can wrap my head around. Each moment is fleeting and I'm afraid to look away for fear I'll miss something. Jamison is growing fast too, no doubt, but that first year of a baby's life presents so many changes so quick that even a blink will be cause for missing a milestone. Right now Raquel is sitting rock solid! Even taking baths without a baby tub. It is nice that I can now put her and her brother in the tub together and bathe them both. She is also desperately trying to move and so very close to crawling. I take lots of videos in hopes of documenting all steps to this great achievement of hers. Raquel's baby babble is also starting to sound less experimental and just like her movements more deliberate. She is really starting to look like a little girl. Less baby more little girl.

Raquel and Jamison sleep in bed with us so we are fortunate to have a big king size bed in which we all pile in for sleep. If we didn't do it this way no one would sleep well and since beds are for sleeping it makes sense we use ours for it. I'm not even sure how much Raquel gets up at night because she is snuggle right up to me so I often times sleep through her feedings. It is not for everyone but it works for us!

Parenting the second time around is so amazingly wonderful. Parenting the first time is great too, Jamison made me a mommy, and a great one at that but the second time around I am able to do it with ease. I know that although things are difficult at times that is changes at the drop of hat. I know how I want to parent, I don't get confused by unsoliceted advice or doctors telling me what to do. I know how to parent my children and if I'm unsure about somethign I know where to find advice in line with how I want my children raised. There is much less confusion and I am at peace with my decisions rather than doubting them and wondering if I am messing my kid up, ok I still worry about screwing her up but not as bad as round one. My instincts are strong and developed, instincts that I thought I never had but were fertilized by Jamison and are now in full bloom for Raquel. Thanks Smash!

And now for some super cute things Jamison has said.

Jamison just said while I was typing this, and I quote, "hey mom, that's strange. That's strange that all babies are in bellies but where do babies come from? How do babies get there?"

When I told Jamison I was too big to do his gymnastics class with him he replied with, "if you grow down you will go back to small" . You know as oppose to growing up. So logical yet so impossible.

After telling Jamison at bed time that he needed to lay down and go to sleep or he'd have to get out of my bed and get in his own he replied with, "well if you say that again you'll get a butt wipen. Say it and I'll give you a butt wipen." I'm not exactly sure what he meant by that but I didn't say it again.

In order to sneak Christmas shopping for J past him we told him all the presents we were buying were for his friends (I know it borders on cruel but it worked). One evening before Christmas he came up to me holding the dinosaur we got for a "friend" and in his best dinosaur voice he said, "hello, what friend are you going to give me to?" I replied, "I don't know, which friend should we give you to?" Maintaining his dinosaur voice he said, "how about we give me to the friend you live with because he really loves dinosaurs". He was referring to himself, so creative. He was happy to unwrap that gift.

While munching on candy canes together he said, "Mom, we can't put our candy canes on the bed because pretty much Raquel spits up everywhere on beds." It might be a bit of an exaggeration.

While looking at maps in an Atlas book J said "Woa! Look at this road, but we don't need this map because we have an iphone app"

One morning with our family all snuggled up together, Jamison with Raquel and me and Rob snuggles Jamison said, "we're quite the family". Yes we are. How cute.

Today I am sick and my very sweet boy said to me, "mommy you can pull your pant leg up so I can rub your leg and help you feel better." He also got me tissues and cough drops, he really is a caring child.

Tired

I have missed out on pretty much everything this summer. I have not gone swimming, camping, hiking, biking; not really much of anything. I have been either too pregnant or too tired. I have missed concerts of bands I love and plenty of girls nights out. I have been vomited on daily. I have been pooped on, peed on and drooled on. I have been woken up constantly throughout the night. I have spent day after day soothing a screaming baby and comforting a whiny toddler, sometimes simultaneously. I am 3 sizes bigger than normal and my skin has been stretched beyond it's capacity. The only time I have left the house alone was to get a root canal, and I spent the entire time worrying that my baby might be hungry; she was. I have battled the sorest of nipples (thank you yeast) and continued to feed my baby regardless. That's it. Just a vent session.

Adjusting to a New Family Member

Raquel has been a wonderful addition to our family. Everyone loves her especially her big brother. He sings to her, talks to her, makes faces at her and even shares his toys with her. He is so helpful and gives of himself more than I would ever expect from a 3 year old. He offers to get diapers or throw dirty ones away even before I ask. If I drop something it is not uncommon for him to exclaim "Oh, I got it!" as he immediately picks it up for me.

We have turned Jamison's old crib into a sidecar attached to our bed but Raquel mostly sleeps in our king size bed snuggled up to mommy. Yes, Rob, Jamison, Raquel and I all pile up into our bed for our night time sleep. It is a full bed but as I lay facing Raquel with Jamison snuggled up to my back and Rob reaching across Jamison to rub my back I couldn't imagine it any other way!

The first week of sleep with Raquel was easy, she was a sleepy newborn but as she became more aware of her environment, but still not aware that we all sleep at night, she was up A LOT! Even nursing her was not enough to encourage her back to sleep but as with anything about a baby, good or bad, it always changes and the last few nights we have been getting more sleep...I wonder when that will change again (;

Some precious things Jamison has said:

"Mommy, I won't teach baby sister to fart on daddy"

In reference to our night time sleep "I didn't pull the blankets up over my shoulders because I didn't want them to go over baby sisters head" Note: the blankets are tucked in under the mattress so it would be impossible for this to happen anyway.

"I can't snuggle your back because I don't want to lay on baby sister" I reassured him he could snuggle me but you can see we have talked to him about co sleeping safety even though I sleep between him and "baby sister". None the less we still felt it was good for him to understand the importance of how we have arranged our bed.

When I told Jamison I was sad I didn't get to snuggle up to him at night anymore (as I cannot sleep with my back towards Raquel) he said "that's okay because you have a friend you get to sleep with now" referring to his sis and then that night he started sleeping snuggled up to my back knowing that I missed his snuggles.

When she cries he remains calm and relaxed...more than I can (: He'll get right up to her and in his quiet but squeaky little concerned voice he says "it's okay baby sister, I'll take care of you".

Jamison's birth sory as told by my Doula.

Jamison Robert’s Birth Story

Meghan’s due date of April 3rd came and went. Her cervix was nicely effaced and beginning to dilate some. On Sunday, April 6, 2008, Meghan woke up at 3:00 a.m. to a nice contraction pattern. They were nearly 60 seconds long and coming every 3 to 5 minutes. Meghan called Angie at 9:30 a.m. to let her know what was going on. Angie called again at 12:30 p.m. to check in and see how things were going… still a nice contraction pattern of 60 seconds long, 3 to 5 minutes apart. Rob called Angie again at 2:00 and said they were ready for her to come, some contractions were getting to be 80 and 90 seconds long. Meghan’s mom and dad arrived from Hurricaine just before 3:00 and Angie arrived just before 3:30 p.m.

Meghan was lying peacefully in the middle of her bed in her darkened bedroom. Rob was very near, timing surges and rubbing Meghan’s back. Meghan’s mom, Cathy, was always nearby and ready to help. Meghan got in the bathtub from 3:45 to 4:20 at which time she decided she wanted to head to St. Marks. Preparations were made and the birthing party arrived at St. Marks just after 5:00 p.m. Meghan was assigned to room #9 and Jene was her nurse. She asked all the admit questions and Rob threw her off by saying, “I’m her brother.” Jene tried her best to offer suggestions that might help Meghan in labor, but it was nice when she finally left the room.
Meghan continued to labor and showed many possible signs of transition. She had been surging now for over 15 hours. At 5:30 Jene checked labor progress. Meghan was dilated to 2 cm, 90% effaced, and the baby was at a -2 station. It is an understatement to say that this news was surprising to Meghan. At this instant she requested an epidural. Jene tried and tried to place and I.V. but without success so Dr. Peggy Peterson, an anesthesiologist, came in to do it. After the bag of fluids was run, Dr. Peterson returned to place the epidural at 6:45. It was a tough 45 min. from the time of Meghan’s decision to the time of pain relief. The epidural worked marvelously and Meghan’s own words were, “I’m so happy!” Her I.V. was inadvertently pulled out so Dr. Peterson placed a fourth I.V. The new nurse on shift now was Laura and she was wonderful. At 8:15 p.m. Laura placed a catheter and found that the cervix was now 2+cm dilated, effacement complete at 100%, and the baby at a -2 with a nice bulgy bag of waters. At 8:30 Meghan felt dizzy and nearly blacked out. She lay flat in bed for a moment and felt much better. It is very common to have low blood pressure as a side affect to an epidural.

Rob reviewed the movie selection offered by Labor and Delivery. It was none too stellar, but “Brother Future” seemed to stand out. Rob grabbed a sandwich from Subway and Meghan was eagerly talking about the next time she could eat one. Angie and Cathy ran to Subway for a bite to eat too. At 10:15 p.m. Laura checked progress again; dilation was at 5 ½ cm and discussed the possibility of releasing the membranes to help labor along. Dr. Tilley came in at 10:20 and released the membranes. Dilation was now 6 cm and the baby had come down to a -1 station. The fluid was nice and clear. Meghan was just laboring away and visiting with Rob, Cathy, and Angie. At 11:30 p.m. she felt rectal pressure, which is great news when you are in labor!

Amy became the nurse at midnight. She checked progress at 12:10 a.m., now on Monday, April 7, and found that dilation was at 6+ cm. Things got exciting between 12:15 and 12:30; Meghan experienced a titanic contraction, or one that doesn’t stop. The baby’s heart rate dropped for a time and three nurses came rushing in. They gave her a shot of tributeline to stop the contraction, oxygen, and a position change. They also placed an internal lead on the baby’s head to more accurately monitor his heart rate. At 12:40 Dr. Luikenaar came in briefly to mention that she’d like to start pitocin to help the labor progress. Angie guided Meghan through some relaxation scripts. At 1:45 dilation was at 7 cm and pitocin was started at 1 mL. Meghan felt pain on the left side of her cervix and there was some swelling there as well. The plan was to gently increase the pitocin and see how the baby tolerated that. At 2:20 a.m. the pitocin was turned to 2 mL. Angie and Rob did an “opening” script where Meghan went through her house in her mind and opened up everything she possibly could. At 2:50 the pitocin was increased to 4 mL.

At 3:15 Amy checked the cervix, dilation remained at 7 cm and was swollen, the baby’s caput was low—his head was trying to mould down into the birth canal. Just after 3:30 Amy increased the pitocin to 6 mL, and at 4:00 a.m. to 8 mL. Angie put Meghan in to an exaggerated side-lying position and did hip press-release. At 4:20 a.m. Dr. Luikenaar returned and found that dilation was now at 6 cm, due to cervical swelling and determined that it was time to head back to the OR for a Cesarean birth. Dr. Layman, the anesthesiologist came in to dose the epidural and she was a stickler about having only one support person in the OR. Rob suited up in a cute blue alien outfit. At 4:45 Meghan was wheeled back and at 4:55 Rob followed. Angie and Cathy waited outside the OR doors and listened for the first cries of a baby. Those first cries came at 5:03 a.m. on the morning of Monday, April 7, 2008—the time of Jamison’s birth. Dr. Luikenaar discovered that he was positioned directly OP. He had very healthy Apgars of 8 and 9. He weighed 8 pounds, 8 ounces and was 22 inches long with a 35 cm head. Meghan returned to room #9 at 5:45 with baby Jamison in her arms. At 5:50 he was latched on and breastfeeding very well! After 26 hours of hard work, patience and lots of love, Meghan had a wonderful birth and was rewarded with a beautiful baby boy.

The things Cathy will most remember about this experience are: “’2 cm! Give me an epidural!’ Hearing his first cry.” Rob will most remember, “Being able to see him the second he came out and taking photos. To hear him cry, that was amazing! I was pretty excited when she woke me up in the morning to let me know she was contracting. I liked the fact that I was with Meghan the whole time.” And Meghan will most remember, “Hearing him cry for the first time, seeing Rob bring him to me. ‘2 cm !?! I want an epidural!’ How good Rob was—there was no way I could have done it without him. Being told it would have to be a C-section.

It was a privilege and an honor to be a part of this amazing birth. Meghan was so strong and positive. She handled every turn her birthing took with grace… (except when she hollered “2 cm!?!”) Rob was very attentive and supportive and Cathy had so much love to offer. Meghan is fortunate to be surrounded by those who love her and Jamison is a very blessed little boy to have been able to come to such a wonderful family.

Raquel's birth sory as told by my Doula.

Raquel Mae’s Birth Story

Meghan and Rob were expecting their second and final baby, a girl, on or around July 19, 2011. Meghan had had a Cesarean delivery with Jamison and this time did some homework and research early in her pregnancy looking for a very supportive care provider who would give her every chance of a VBAC. She ended up seeing the midwives at the University of Utah hospital and hired Angie as her doula again. July 19 came and went and Meghan remained ever so patiently pregnant.

At 3:00 a.m. on the morning of Monday, July 25, Meghan woke to contractions. She got out of bed around 3:30 and labored. At 5:00 a.m. Rob got up to go biking but decided not to go. At 7:55 Meghan sent a text message to Angie to let her know what was going on. By 8:15 contractions were about 2 and half minutes apart and lasting about 45 seconds. Meghan could feel them in her lower abdomen, which was perfect. She was in “her own zone” as Rob put it and dealt well with labor. Meghan was concerned that there was no bloody show. At about 9:30 a.m. Meghan had some spotting and decided it was time to head to the hospital.

Meghan was evaluated then assigned to room #7, Janet was her nurse, and her favorite midwife, Peggy, was on call! Around 10:30 Peggy checked labor progress and found that dilation was at 4 ½ cm, effacement at 90%, and the baby at a -1 station. The previous office visit showed that dilation was almost 1 cm and effacement at 60%. Angie and Cathy arrived at 11:00. Janet had trouble getting an I.V. started so called in an anesthesiologist to get into Meghan’s currently tough and skinny veins. Meghan was feeling pressure and the baby’s heart rate was going down a little bit so Meghan changed from her right to her left side. Meghan leaned onto the birth ball which was on the bed. At 11:45 she got up to use the bathroom. At 11:55 Peggy checked labor progress and found that dilation was now at 6+ to 7 cm, effacement complete at 100%, and the baby at a -2 station with a bulging bag of waters. Meghan’s body was making progress very quickly! At 12:15 Cathy went to move Rob’s car which was parked in the 5 minute parking zone. This day was considered a holiday for the 24th of July and the valet was not running.

At 12:25 Peggy came in again. She did some double hip squeeze and Meghan instantly fell in love with that. Peggy also got some essential oils for Meghan to use and sprayed them in the room. At 12:40 Meghan got off the ball and bed and stood at the bedside. At 12:48 she was making some pushing sounds and the pushing stage had begun. At 12:50 Peggy checked labor progress while Meghan was standing and thought that dilation might be at 10 cm with the baby at a +2 station, or so she thought. She called a nurse in. Meghan crawled up onto the bed and Peggy got a more accurate exam; dilation was actually at 8 cm with the baby at a -1 station. Meghan resumed her favorite position which was kneeling on the bed and leaning over onto the birth ball. At 1:15 Meghan lie towards her right side on the bed and didn’t love that position as well. A warm pack was placed on her lower belly and a cold pack on her back. She relaxed well between contractions and said, “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Peggy used a warm compress to help prepare the tissues of the perineum. At 1:20 Megan’s body wanted to start bearing down with each surge. Peggy checked labor progress and dilation remained at 8 cm with the baby at a -1 station. Meghan was discouraged. She moved back to her favorite position which was kneeling on the bed and leaning over onto the ball. Angie and Rob did double hip squeeze often. The baby’s hear rate overall indicated that she was happy but she did have a couple decelerations. Meghan talked about the option of getting an epidural. She talked about the option of having Peggy release the membranes. She decided to wait on all decisions and all hands were on deck offering Meghan comfort. Peggy rubbed her feet. Angie and Rob on her back. Cathy rubbed her head and hair. At 1:35 Angie asked if Meghan would like to discuss her options after 3-4 more contractions. Meghan said she wanted to discuss her options in 2-3 more contractions.

Meghan stood at the bedside and as she did her membranes released on their own; it was 1:42 p.m. The fluid was clear and there was lots of it. It splashed nicely all over the floor. This changed what Meghan was feeling and she went into pushing and doing a dangle squat from the side of the bed. Angie and Cathy helped support her. Meghan could now feel that the baby’s head was very low. At 1:50 she managed to climb up onto the bed. She squatted. She lay on her back and turned side to side. The baby’s heart rate was showing some decelerations, indicating that her little head was getting squished as she moved lower into the pelvis. Her heart rate remained in the 60’-90’s and Meghan received some oxygen to breath for the baby. Peggy asked if she could perform and episiotomy to help the baby get born on the sooner side so she could get breathing on her own and increase her heart rate. Meghan agreed and Peggy helped received a baby—vaginally and unmedicated!

This baby girl had a snug nuccal cord around her neck and once around her shoulder and loosely around her body. She’d been doing somersaults at some point. This may have also been why her heart rate was lower, stress on the cord at the final stages of pushing. Meghan gave birth to a baby girl at 2:05 p.m. on Monday, July 25, 2011. This little girl had dark and curly hair. The official pushing time was 1 hour and 12 minutes. At 2:07 Cathy cut the cord while the placenta took its time coming out. There were some sticky membranes but it finally came at 2:25 and Peggy asked Meghan if she could gently sweep to make sure the placenta was complete. Meghan agreed to take some fentanyl to help her relax and be comfortable and Peggy did find some tissue. Meghan said, more than once, “I can’t believe I did that!” As she assessed the tissue separation and repair, Peggy asked that the chief resident come in to assist with part of the repair. There had been a left sulcus separation which was deep and forked, a right labial separation, and no further than the episiotomy which was a second degree on the perineum. Dr. Calvert came in to assist with the sulcus repair and Peggy did the remaining work which was done by 3:45. She was given Ancef to prevent infection. Meghan was a champion and held onto her baby girl and relaxed quite well. Her baby was showing all the signs of being ready to latch and did so at 2:20, 15 minutes old. Meghan got up to use the bathroom but was unable to. Janet used a straight catheter and there was a good deal of urine to release which helped Meghan feel a lot better. This baby was being loved and having her picture taken. Rob was texting friends and family to let them know the good news. She didn’t have a name yet but Jesabelle, Raquel, and Josephine were on Meghan’s list. She weighed in at 8 pound 4 ounces and was 20 ½ inches long with a head circumference of 36 cm. Her name would be Raquel Mae.

Some of the things Cathy may remember from this experience are, “I was so proud of her work. It chokes me up. I feel so blessed to be wanted here. Joy tears. So proud of her and the strength women have to do this.” Rob said, “I’ll definitely remember trying to comfort Meghan, whispering in her ear. I’ll remember seeing her (the baby’s) head and watching her be born. The best thing for me was for Meghan to get through it naturally since that was her goal.” And Meghan may remember, “The immense intensity of it. There are not words to explain how intense it was. The hip squeezes were nice and makes a huge difference. How much I love her already! I wouldn’t have changed anything, it was perfect. Peggy was on call. We got stuck in traffic and that was good. Every RN here was really sweet. Mind blowing intensity. The pushing. I wanted her out so bad. The pain of pushing.”

This was an exciting birth, one I call a “Victory.” I am so thrilled that Meghan got what she wanted and what she prepared for. Jamison and Raquel are so fortunate to come to this wonderful mother and father. It has been an honor to be a part of witnessing this family grow.


Additional notes taken by my mom:

Its anout 5:15am.....Mae has been having contractions for about 2 hours. Rob brought Jamison into my bed and they have gone for a walk.

Maybe my alter ....candle and prayers worked. 5:36am......mae came in for a pee break as she put it. Back outside for more walking......how wonderful x

Mae and rob came back 5:56am. Mae went potty again. Sounds like they are busy perhaps organizing or something ...preparing. XO

I can hear birds chirping outside and Jamison breathing.
My heart is so full of love and joy. Im blessed to be here.

Still having contractions. Hands and knees feel best. 6:57am. More quite in the house.

Jamison still sleeping xo

Rob's such a good man.

7:12am taking bath. Breathing through contractions contractions about 5 minutes apart.

8:27 still working hard laboring on hands and knees mostly, also using birth ball.

Explained to jamison that mama was working hard so his baby sister could be born.

Jamison is very considerate. Being very quite and calm. Rob is very attentive and loving......soft music playing. 9:03am.

10am theyve left for the hospital 10:20 jess came for james. He cried a little but stopped.

500 milliliters of blood loss.

Smiles for the whole family.

Today Raquel smiled back at me (: What a great feeling. She will be 4 weeks in two days. I can't say if this was intended or not but I can say after some exhausting nights and frustrating days it was just what I needed.

To melt my heart even more Jamison kissed me and said "I love my mommy" then he kissed Raquel and said "I love baby sister", he then moved onto Rob kissing him followed up by "I love daddy" and then he kissed his arm and said "I love all of us". What a great family I have!

How about Jamison's birth story.

We had labored at home for 15 hours with the support of our doula for about the last 2 as we were attempting a natural child birth. My contractions had been pretty intense and rhythmic right form the start which happened to be at 3 AM, although my 3 AM contractions were a cake walk compared to the ones that started kicking in around 10AM or so. We figured first time labors usually take on average of 12 to 16 hrs, so after 15 hours and contractions lasting slightly more than 1 minute and about 3 minutes apart, it seemed like a good time to go to the hospital. My doula supported my decision to go but also let me know that if I wanted to stay home longer she felt I would be okay to do so. I still chose to go.

Once we got there Rob answered all the admit questions while I stood at the counter waiting for a place to labor. I was trying hard not to cry at this point as I was feeling very exhausted and vulnerable, I just wanted a place to labor. When I got admitted and put in a room the nurse came in and immediatly "took charge". She damanded I put my arms down and when I didn't she assisted me in doing so. She then rolled me on my back, a bad place to be with back labor, and there I stayed, complying with her demands. To make matters worse when they checked me I was 2cm. It was a HUGE disappointment to put it lightly. After 15 hours of labor I gave up, "I want an epidural" I demanded and got one an hour later. I still wasn't dilating so they broke my water; I eventually got up to a 6. Around that time I had a contraction that wouldn't stop and Jamison's heart rate was dropping. All the nurses ran in and started putting internal monitors on Jamison's head. I looked to my doula for support she reassured me every thing was okay. I was scared, I felt sick, I was light headed and now multiple medical staff were filling up my room, reaching inside me and attaching monitors to my baby's head. My doula was the only person who explained to me what was happening, and that me and baby were okay.

I was given a shot of something which just made me feel extremely jittery and significantly increased my heart rate. The shot was to stop the contraction that was not stopping on it's own, baby needed a break. To help ease the side effects of this injection my doula went over a relaxation script with me, I think I might have fallen asleep for a bit. Due to the shots effect of stopping contractions I got stuck at a 6 so they gave me pitocin. That got me to a 7 but shortly after when I was checked again I was back to a 6 due to my cervix swelling. My doula had tried some hip movement things with me to help get baby to move down but due to being unable to move she was very limited and they were not effective. That was when the Dr decided on a c-section. He was born at 5:03 in the morning healthy and Happy! It turns out he was face up (posterior) so that was the cause of the swelling and lack of dilation. I think my doula was the only one to recognize his positioning was off or at least the only one to care and do something about it. His APGAR scores were 8/9 which is great even for a vaginal delivery so all was well with my little man.

Jamison was born 8 lbs 7.5 oz on April 7th 2008.

Birth Story As I Rememner It

This will be sloppy and quick but I figured I better get this down before I forget and just 48 hours later I know I have already started the forgetting process.

I woke up at 3am having short and mild contractions but not so short or mild that I was able to go back to sleep again. I tried. After 30 minutes and several contractions later I accepted I would probably be up for a while and got out of bed. I went into the living room, got some snacks and began focusing through my contractions. I appreciated the time alone and was enjoying trying different positions that worked for me. I wasn't having any difficulty getting through each contraction but was "practicing" for when things got harder.

Around 5am Rob got up to go for his bike ride, he didn't even know I wasn't in bed, so when he walked into the living room to find me kneeling over the couch he was a bit surprised. I told him I had been having regular contractions for the last couple hours but that he should go ahead and go on his bike ride, just that he needed to keep it short. He refused and I was happy as this meant we could go for a walk together. We woke my mom up to let her know what was going on and also so we could put Jamison into her bed. We didn't want him to wake up and wonder where we were. At this point my mom told me that before bed she had lit a candle and said a prayer for me to start labor. It worked! So around 530 in the morning Rob and I went walking around our neighborhood together. The morning air was just the right temperature, low 70s, there was a bright sliver of a moon in the sky and the birds were just beginning to chirp. We stayed close to home but walked around the block many times while Rob timed my contractions using a super cool cell phone program. Sometimes I was able to keep walking through the contractions but sometimes I would have to stop and lean onto Rob while I waited for them to pass. After I was no longer comfortable walking around we went back home to labor some more there. I spent time leaning on Rob, leaning on the pony wall, leaning over the birth ball and even in the tub.

My mom and Jamison eventually woke up and Jamison was so quiet and so gentle through all of it. He did not worry about me; Noni made sure to inform him that I was working very hard to bring his baby sister here and that he needed to be calm and quiet for me. He did a wonderful job at this. After several more hours my contractions were getting pretty strong relative to the ones I was having earlier and I had some spotting, something I never had while in labor with Jamison. I had hope that I was at least making some progress, though still concerned this could end up like my previous labor; no progression that ended in a cesarean delivery.



We contacted our Doula and requested her to come to our house at this point but just a few minutes later decided we would meet her at the hospital as both Rob and I were getting anxious. We left my mom and Jamison so that they could make arrangements for him to be picked up. We headed for the U of U hospital around 10AM but not before my very sweet son gently helped me get my flip flops on.

Before labor started I was petrified of the car ride but it wasn't as bad as I thought even with bumper to bumper traffic down foothill blvd. I spent the entire car ride on my knees in the front seat leaning over the back of it. With each contraction I visualized the word "OPEN". I was so afraid this would be just like my previous labor that the word "OPEN" seemed the most appropriate word to think of. My labor had, after all, started similar to Jamison's. Both started at 3 in the morning and both started with no dilation and little effacement. Not to mention baby was not in an anterior position, much like J, to only farther discourage me.

None the less I remained hopeful. Hopeful that I would get to the hospital and be at least a 6. If I was a 6 I would be so happy, I thought. Once at the hospital the nurses immediately put me in the closest room and began asking a battery of questions to check me in. Rob answering all of them of course. I was told to get undressed from the waist down before they could start checking baby's heart rate but I was never asked to put on a hospital gown. No one cared that I remained in my own nighty. This was significant to me because I specifically did not want to have to deal with changing my clothes during labor. They hooked me up to the monitor all the while letting me take the time and positions I needed to make it through each contractions. "Good job, girl. Your doing great" both nurses kept saying; quite a contrast from being held down by one of the nurses while laboring with Jamison. Once they got a heartbeat on the monitor they had me lay down to check for dilation. I'll admit, this part was not fun as laying down was extremely uncomfortable and painful. I was even less happy when they told me I was a 4 1/2. I was hoping for so much more and all I could do was chuckle a bit. The nurses said "You must be happy about this given your smile" I informed them it was a smile of disappointment. At this point I told myself I will wait to get settled in with my doula and my midwife before I make any decisions about pain medication.

After they determined baby's heart rate was fine and that I would be admitted I was taken to the room I would actually be delivering in. I honestly have no memory of how I got to that room, probably walking, but once there I was able to lean over a birth ball, and have my full support team there and available to me. My doula showed up, my mom showed up and I even got the midwife I was hoping would be on call. My midwife came walking in while I was in the middle of a contraction, she walked up and did a hip squeeze thing that immediately helped relieve the intensity of the contraction. From then on out someone (sometimes two people at a time) applied the same pressure to my hips with every contraction. I was taking it one contraction at a time while everyone was encouraging me, rubbing my back, pressing in certain areas to decrease the pain and various other ways of keeping me going. All of it,every bit of it, was so very helpful. Every women in the room, as well as the one man, were doing everything perfect. Absolutely perfect. Every touch, every word of encouragement, everyone was working together to make this easier for me and it worked. My midwife left briefly to get some essential oils and returned to spray them around the room. I could feel the mist hitting my back and the smell was refreshing.

At one point the nurse asked me "you plan on going un-medicated, right?" I laughed and told her that was yet to be decided. She responded with "Well, if you want pain relief that is your choice but I will not bring it up again, so if you want it you can ask". Prefect I thought.


I continued to labor. My Doula reminding me to relax and to moan low, rubbing my back and helping me stay focused. My midwife rubbing my back and feet all the while monitoring my well being as well as my baby's. My mom moaning with me to remind me to keep my sounds low and productive. It was perfect, I was very comfortable making whatever noises I needed knowing my mom was right there doing it too! My sweet husband gently whispering in my ear that I was doing a good job, helping with hip squeezes and taking me to the bathroom whenever I needed. When I was checked again I was a 7 1/2. I had a bit of a negative attitude as I was sure my labor wouldn't progress like last time. I complained that I was only a 7 1/2 but my doula gently reminded me I was farther dilated than I ever did with my last labor. My midwife pointed out how fast I had gone from a 4 1/2 to over a 7. At this point they had to change the location of the fetal monitor from high up on my right side to down low on my left side; baby had rotated to a better position and was down low! I continued taking it one contraction at a time all the while thinking, if I want drugs I can get them, but to be honest I was not interested in them coming in and messing with me; making me lay down, making me get IV fluids etc. Some positions were so horribly painful I thought if I ask for an epidural and they make me lay down I will die, it just didn't seem worth it. So I kept relying on my support team to make things bearable. I cannot emphasize enough the tricks these ladies knew and shared with my mom and Rob were amazing. The words each person said, the touch, the scents that were sprayed it was all too much to even ask for yet I got it all. Everyone worked so well together it was just perfect.

I soon began getting the urge to push as well as some rectal pressure. With each contraction my moans changed from pain coping sounds to grunting sounds. "I think she's pushing" I heard someone say. "I think I'm pushing" I said in response. It was almost over I thought but really it was only beginning! I was standing and could not for the life of me lay down. My midwife checked me while I stood but did mention it was a hard position to check in. She thought I might be a 10 and told me if I had the urge I could push if I wanted. So I pushed. Little nudges but not much more. My midwife requested I lay on my side on the bed so that she could check me better as she felt a little unsure about her last check. She was extremely apologetic when she had to give me the bad news that I was really still an 8. "AN 8!" I exclaimed. "I can't do this, I can't do this" I began saying. I was an 8 twenty minute ago, which isn't long, but at the time felt like an eternity for no changes. "I want an epidural". My doula mentioned breaking my water as one option to speed things up, I declined as I was terrified things might get more intense than I felt I would be able to handle. My birth team supported my decision so we left them intact. Everyone reminded me that an 8 was really good.

My midwife, sensing fear spilling over from my last birthing experience, got eye level with me and gently but sternly said, "Meghan, this is not like your last. This is different".

My doula encouraged met to go 3 or 4 more contractions and then reevaluate. I agreed to go 2 more but it would be many more before I brought up pain medication again, mainly because I slipped so far into a different place there really wasn't much room to think about anything other than getting through it. It was around this time Rob and my mom started offering me some personal items I had brought with me intended to give me strength. I chose a charm Rob had given me at the conclusion of our birth class and focused on it in my hand.



After a few more contractions my doula and midwife suggested I change positions, I chose to stand at the edge of the bed again. Another contraction! Another slight urge to push and immediately I felt like I had been hit by a freight train. My water broke the pressure changed, the sensation changed and I collapsed. My knees buckled and I completely collapsed into a squat as my arms reached up holding onto the edge of the bed. My mom was holding tight to my arms from across the other side of the bed, my doula, midwife and Rob all holding me up from behind. I screamed, no moaned. I never screamed, I was never scared. I had no control of my body, none, every single muscle pushed without asking for permission and pushed with a fierce strength I never knew I had. My body had completely taken over. Imagine standing on a train track and suddenly, without warning, a train comes and slams into you from behind, you never saw it coming. That is the best way I can explain the intensity of having that urge to push. Finally the pressure, the train, it stopped. I stood up, I breathed, I relaxed. I almost felt like I could fall asleep but not enough time; another contraction, another chance for my muscles to take over. I collapsed again, being held up by my team, I moaned, I felt pain and pressure so severe, so strong, so intense I had checked out of my body...but I wasn't scared. I trusted my team and they continuously reassured me I was doing good. I knew if anything went wrong I was taken care of, I was safe. I could focus solely on getting my baby out. My midwife began instructing the nurses to get the squat bar. I wasn't collapsing as I had thought. I was giving into my bodies desire to squat! In between contractions I climbed up onto the bed and was told how to effectively use the squat bar. It was a great place to be at that time in my labor; brilliant was my Midwife to recognize the need for it. More contractions, more pushing, more freight train, more giving into my body.

I even joked "is it too late for an epidural?" I asked in between pushing. I was told by many natural birthing mamas the pain stops when the pushing starts. To that I say bullshit. I was looking forward to pushing the entire time in hopes of finding some relief. My doula put it best when I met her before labor "you welcome the change in sensation" this is true but that "change in sensation" came with other things that were not necessarily welcomed. Regardless I was happy to be getting close. At his point my midwife noticed I still had a "lip" left on my cervix, pretty bad news to me but turns out it was as simple as her going "let me see if I can just push this out of the way" and away it went, no biggie.

"Meghan, do you want to feel her head?" I said no. Not sure why I wasn't interested in such an amazing opportunity but my Midwife knew it was one I wouldn't want to miss. "Meghan, reach down here and feel her head" I did it. My response, "that is it? That is hardly out" I was such a downer. I had spent the entire labor concerned of not progressing like last time. It seemed no matter how much amazing progress I made I was convinced it wasn't enough. So my amazing birth team, yet again, reminded me of my great progress.

I kept pushing when I had the urge and relaxing when I didn't. My midwife patiently watched and waited and simply supported me. Then her demeanor changed a bit. She began telling me I needed to push and push hard, even instructing me to push in between contractions. She looked at me, she was serious. "I need to do an episiotomy. I haven't done one in 4 or 5 years, I'm so sorry". I remember talking about episiotomies at the clinic. The Midwives were against them, they didn't believe in any benefits. There was only one situation that warranted an episiotimy: an emergency. I wasn't scared, I trusted my team.

"Will you numb it?"
"Nope, baby's head on the perineum is a natural anesthesia, you won't feel it." she was right, I didn't feel a thing.

I kept pushing until I felt her head slide out! The burning and pain decreased immediately and it felt as though the rest of her slid right out. I later learned, due to a tight cord, my midwife did some cool midwife trick to help get her out. A quick check by the midwife to make sure all was okay and just like that she was on my chest. She was damp but easy to hold onto, not slippery like I thought she would be. Her smell, it was 'earthy'. It was pleasant, it was the scent of life, of hard work, of strength beyond comprehension, it was of me and her. I will never forget her smell. So distinct but completely hard to describe.



Her apgars were great 8 and 9. She was perfectly healthy! The scare came because her heart rate had dropped to 60 and was not going back up between contractions. According to one of the midwives that checked on me shortly after delivery, when fetal heart tones drop below 80 and don't go back up the staff prepares for a resuscitation, hence the episiotomy, "in that situation 5 minutes can make the difference" she said. Her cord was wrapped tightly around her neck, her arm and her body. In most situations the cord around the neck is not a big deal however in my baby's situation it was very tight. My amazing midwife did some cool midwife trick where you keep baby's head close to mom's thigh and flip her around doing some somersault thingy, apparently it's something to do when the cord is too tight. Rob got to watch and said it was pretty cool. I hardly knew any of this was going on, I never felt scared. I trusted my team.

"Can someone get the resident?" My midwife asked. She had begun stitching me. I looked at her face and she was focused. She kept inspecting me, stitching me, cleaning me but the resident never came. No one got him, no one listened to her. "I need someone to get Jacob right now" she snapped at the nursing staff. I had lost 500mls of blood. Anything over 500mls is a hemorrhage but I never felt scared.

Jacob came in and I was offered an epidural while they did repairs. Apparently some areas were deep enough inside and bad enough it was difficult to get the lidocaine shot there. I declined the epidural. I was not about to go through what I just went through only to have an epidural for some stitches. They numbed me up as best they could, which wasn't good enough and what seemed like over an hour (and probably was) I had a clean bill of health!

Baby girl born July 25, 2011 8 lbs 4.5 oz at 2:05 PM.

I DID IT!





Now that I have experienced a highly medicated and surgical delivery as well as a completely un-medicated delivery I have some opinions on both. If a woman wants an epidural I think she is making a good choice for herself. If a woman wants a drug free birth I think she is making a good choice for herself AND I know she can do it!