Carter Jon was born on Sunday, September 13th at 7:30 am. After 2 hospital deliveries with epidural and the works I opted for a home water birth with a midwife. This decision was never something I questioned or felt was the wrong choice, despite scrutiny from some people. I had considered birthing my first son (second child) in the birthing center, but I don’t think I was mentally ready to take that step. This time it seemed like the right choice from the get-go.
I was due on a Friday, but didn't go into labor until Sunday morning. Saturday was a very busy day. We had gone out to my husband's parents' house to visit and had a great time. Jonathan and his dad were pushing each other down the little slope in their driveway on an old lawn mower that had no motor, brakes, etc. I was laughing so hard and I remember thinking ‘This is going to be what puts me in labor.’ We went home and later that night my best friend, Kenzie, suprised us with pizza for dinner. Her kids and our kids played for hours and wrestled with Jonathan. Again, it got me laughing so hard that my belly started to ache way down low. We had a great time with Kenzie and she didn't leave until about 11 PM.
We went straight to bed after she left, and I remember feeling a little strange. At 1 AM I woke up to go pee and I remembered having a few contractions as I slept. When I went pee I had some bloody show and another contraction. I tried to lie back down, but the contractions were coming about every 6 minutes, so I went downstairs to watch TV and ride them out. I had some contractions in the week before that never amounted to anything, but I knew this was undoubtedly it, so I started to get a few things ready.
At about 2:30 AM I called Jonathan down and had him start airing up the pool. I called the midwives' office and was connected with Vanessa. I was glad Vanessa was who was on call because I liked her most of all the midwives. Not to say that the rest of the midwives weren’t great, but Vanessa’s easy going personality and mine really “clicked”.
I told her my contractions were coming every 5-6 minutes and about 30 seconds to a minute long. She asked if I wanted her to head out right then, but I decided to wait awhile longer. She told me to call when the contractions were consistently under 5 minutes apart and about a minute in length.
Jonathan had the pool blown up and mostly filled by that time so I decided to get in. I was a little worried that I was getting in too early, but they were starting to get pretty intense, so I went with my gut. I kept testing the water temperature over and over and having Jonathan pull water out and add more hot water. He got a little frustrated with me because he was back and forth between the sink and the pool so much, but he was so supportive and patient, I couldn’t have asked for more. Being in the water made it so easy to move around, even during strong contractions, and that was a key part of my pain management. In the tub the contractions came and went. I handled them all calmly because between them I was so relaxed and warm. By the time another contraction rolled around I was prepared for it and able to breathe it out.
After a couple hours in the tub, (I’m not sure exactly how long) I decided to get out for a bit because the contractions seemed to slip back to about 6 minutes apart when I was in the tub. (Apparently I was too relaxed.) Outside the tub the contractions were so much more intense, each one took more out of me, and I had to call Jonathan over for support. With every contraction my moaning got a little louder.
I called Vanessa back and told her we were ready for her, because getting out of the tub for just a few minutes did exactly what I wanted it to and sped the contractions to about 3 or 4 minutes apart. That was at about 5 am. When I couldn’t handle the contractions anymore, I got back into the tub and called my mom, who was going to be my kids when they woke up.
The contractions were making my arms weak, and just leaving them hanging didn't feel good, so I had Jonathan sit in front of me on the couch, and during contractions I would ball my fists up in his pant legs and just twist. He just sat there and rubbed my shoulders and offered up encouraging words. Nothing he did irritated me like he did with my prior labors. Maybe he learned from his mistakes, or maybe the environment mellowed me out.
Emma woke up at about 6ish and came downstairs. She wasn't scared by my vocalizations. All she wanted to know was if she could watch TV and how soon the baby would be here. Jonathan took her up to our room and turned on Spongebob Squarepants, because I had already told Jonathan a few hours earlier that I did NOT want to hear the TV anymore.
It came to a point where instead of blowing out my air with each contraction I started to pull it in, and blowing it out got hard. I realized that I was holding something back. I told Jonathan "Vanessa better hurry up and get here because I need to push." Jonathan told me later that he was worried she would check my dilation and I would only be 4 or 5 cm, but I knew I was at least at transition if not fully dilated.
Much to my relief Vanessa showed up just a few minutes later. I told her I felt "pushy". She asked me if I wanted her to check me or if I just wanted to push. I had her check me and I was indeed fully dilated. So with the next contraction when that urge to breathe in came, I let it happen, and before I knew what was going on I was bearing down and pushing. I remember yelping and saying "help me". Jonathan was at my side and Vanessa came over and sat by the side of the pool, but nobody yelled “PUSH!” or counted to ten, because I didn’t need it. My body was totally in control at that point.
Between contractions I asked Jonathan if he wanted to catch the baby. He said yes and I told him "Well, roll up your sleeves!" After some more yelping and pushing the baby was crowning. I remember thinking it felt like pooping a softball, and looking later and realizing his little head was very comparable in size to a softball. The "ring of fire" to me felt more tingly than burny. That was a pleasant surprise, because with the epidurals I had before I was most apprehensive about that part of the whole ordeal.
Just like always, when the baby’s head was out the rest slipped out quickly. Jonathan had him but needed Vanessa’s help getting him out of the bag of waters, which hadn’t broken during labor. The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck, and he needed a little oxygen, but he perked up quickly. Vanessa was so calm I was never scared for my baby. I thought it was Jonathan who pointed out he was a boy, but he told me that it was me that looked first and said “Kenzie was right!”. So, after 6 short hours of labor and about 10 minutes of pushing (that felt like 1 minute), Carter was here!
My mom, who had shown up right before I started pushing, was making the kids oatmeal in the kitchen. Emma and Reese were called down to meet their new little brother and eat breakfast, although their oatmeal went mostly untouched because they were so excited about the new baby. Everyone “ooh”ed and “aah”ed over him and a few pictures were snapped.
After I delivered the placenta, which was wrapped up and placed on my chest by Carter, Vanessa helped me out of the pool and onto the couch into a warm little nest of blankets and chux. Carter latched right away and nursed for the next hour or so. When Vanessa did his newborn exam he weighed 8 pounds 5 ounces, one ounce less than his big brother weighed at birth. He looked so tiny, I was sure he would be less than 7 pounds. It’s so easy to forget how tiny they are at first. His cord was cut a couple hours after he was born, which was exactly what I wanted. It made my post partum bleeding SO much lighter than it was with my prior births.
The house was so calm and peaceful, and there were no nurses and doctors bustling around trying to manage what I already had under control. Everything was so normal and right. I was proud I was because I did not once say "I can't do this." or "I want drugs" like I had warned Jonathan I probably would. I was proud of Jonathan for being the best birth partner I could have asked for. I was proud of the kids for being so good, and not making it harder on me. Our home was the best place to bring Carter into the world. He wasn’t needlessly exposed to H1N1 and MRSA. He was respected as a person, and our wishes were respected. I was more informed about the choices I made, and the tests I had performed. This experience changed how I think about parenting in general, and will be something I always cherish.
I was due on a Friday, but didn't go into labor until Sunday morning. Saturday was a very busy day. We had gone out to my husband's parents' house to visit and had a great time. Jonathan and his dad were pushing each other down the little slope in their driveway on an old lawn mower that had no motor, brakes, etc. I was laughing so hard and I remember thinking ‘This is going to be what puts me in labor.’ We went home and later that night my best friend, Kenzie, suprised us with pizza for dinner. Her kids and our kids played for hours and wrestled with Jonathan. Again, it got me laughing so hard that my belly started to ache way down low. We had a great time with Kenzie and she didn't leave until about 11 PM.
We went straight to bed after she left, and I remember feeling a little strange. At 1 AM I woke up to go pee and I remembered having a few contractions as I slept. When I went pee I had some bloody show and another contraction. I tried to lie back down, but the contractions were coming about every 6 minutes, so I went downstairs to watch TV and ride them out. I had some contractions in the week before that never amounted to anything, but I knew this was undoubtedly it, so I started to get a few things ready.
At about 2:30 AM I called Jonathan down and had him start airing up the pool. I called the midwives' office and was connected with Vanessa. I was glad Vanessa was who was on call because I liked her most of all the midwives. Not to say that the rest of the midwives weren’t great, but Vanessa’s easy going personality and mine really “clicked”.
I told her my contractions were coming every 5-6 minutes and about 30 seconds to a minute long. She asked if I wanted her to head out right then, but I decided to wait awhile longer. She told me to call when the contractions were consistently under 5 minutes apart and about a minute in length.
Jonathan had the pool blown up and mostly filled by that time so I decided to get in. I was a little worried that I was getting in too early, but they were starting to get pretty intense, so I went with my gut. I kept testing the water temperature over and over and having Jonathan pull water out and add more hot water. He got a little frustrated with me because he was back and forth between the sink and the pool so much, but he was so supportive and patient, I couldn’t have asked for more. Being in the water made it so easy to move around, even during strong contractions, and that was a key part of my pain management. In the tub the contractions came and went. I handled them all calmly because between them I was so relaxed and warm. By the time another contraction rolled around I was prepared for it and able to breathe it out.
After a couple hours in the tub, (I’m not sure exactly how long) I decided to get out for a bit because the contractions seemed to slip back to about 6 minutes apart when I was in the tub. (Apparently I was too relaxed.) Outside the tub the contractions were so much more intense, each one took more out of me, and I had to call Jonathan over for support. With every contraction my moaning got a little louder.
I called Vanessa back and told her we were ready for her, because getting out of the tub for just a few minutes did exactly what I wanted it to and sped the contractions to about 3 or 4 minutes apart. That was at about 5 am. When I couldn’t handle the contractions anymore, I got back into the tub and called my mom, who was going to be my kids when they woke up.
The contractions were making my arms weak, and just leaving them hanging didn't feel good, so I had Jonathan sit in front of me on the couch, and during contractions I would ball my fists up in his pant legs and just twist. He just sat there and rubbed my shoulders and offered up encouraging words. Nothing he did irritated me like he did with my prior labors. Maybe he learned from his mistakes, or maybe the environment mellowed me out.
Emma woke up at about 6ish and came downstairs. She wasn't scared by my vocalizations. All she wanted to know was if she could watch TV and how soon the baby would be here. Jonathan took her up to our room and turned on Spongebob Squarepants, because I had already told Jonathan a few hours earlier that I did NOT want to hear the TV anymore.
It came to a point where instead of blowing out my air with each contraction I started to pull it in, and blowing it out got hard. I realized that I was holding something back. I told Jonathan "Vanessa better hurry up and get here because I need to push." Jonathan told me later that he was worried she would check my dilation and I would only be 4 or 5 cm, but I knew I was at least at transition if not fully dilated.
Much to my relief Vanessa showed up just a few minutes later. I told her I felt "pushy". She asked me if I wanted her to check me or if I just wanted to push. I had her check me and I was indeed fully dilated. So with the next contraction when that urge to breathe in came, I let it happen, and before I knew what was going on I was bearing down and pushing. I remember yelping and saying "help me". Jonathan was at my side and Vanessa came over and sat by the side of the pool, but nobody yelled “PUSH!” or counted to ten, because I didn’t need it. My body was totally in control at that point.
Between contractions I asked Jonathan if he wanted to catch the baby. He said yes and I told him "Well, roll up your sleeves!" After some more yelping and pushing the baby was crowning. I remember thinking it felt like pooping a softball, and looking later and realizing his little head was very comparable in size to a softball. The "ring of fire" to me felt more tingly than burny. That was a pleasant surprise, because with the epidurals I had before I was most apprehensive about that part of the whole ordeal.
Just like always, when the baby’s head was out the rest slipped out quickly. Jonathan had him but needed Vanessa’s help getting him out of the bag of waters, which hadn’t broken during labor. The cord was wrapped around the baby’s neck, and he needed a little oxygen, but he perked up quickly. Vanessa was so calm I was never scared for my baby. I thought it was Jonathan who pointed out he was a boy, but he told me that it was me that looked first and said “Kenzie was right!”. So, after 6 short hours of labor and about 10 minutes of pushing (that felt like 1 minute), Carter was here!
My mom, who had shown up right before I started pushing, was making the kids oatmeal in the kitchen. Emma and Reese were called down to meet their new little brother and eat breakfast, although their oatmeal went mostly untouched because they were so excited about the new baby. Everyone “ooh”ed and “aah”ed over him and a few pictures were snapped.
After I delivered the placenta, which was wrapped up and placed on my chest by Carter, Vanessa helped me out of the pool and onto the couch into a warm little nest of blankets and chux. Carter latched right away and nursed for the next hour or so. When Vanessa did his newborn exam he weighed 8 pounds 5 ounces, one ounce less than his big brother weighed at birth. He looked so tiny, I was sure he would be less than 7 pounds. It’s so easy to forget how tiny they are at first. His cord was cut a couple hours after he was born, which was exactly what I wanted. It made my post partum bleeding SO much lighter than it was with my prior births.
The house was so calm and peaceful, and there were no nurses and doctors bustling around trying to manage what I already had under control. Everything was so normal and right. I was proud I was because I did not once say "I can't do this." or "I want drugs" like I had warned Jonathan I probably would. I was proud of Jonathan for being the best birth partner I could have asked for. I was proud of the kids for being so good, and not making it harder on me. Our home was the best place to bring Carter into the world. He wasn’t needlessly exposed to H1N1 and MRSA. He was respected as a person, and our wishes were respected. I was more informed about the choices I made, and the tests I had performed. This experience changed how I think about parenting in general, and will be something I always cherish.
