I knew I was “due” somewhere between July 10 and July 15, but hadn’t anticipated being overdue. Samuel was born 6 days before his due date, and for some reason I expected about the same of Atley. Needless to say, by the time the 14th rolled around, I had realized that what they say about pregnancies is true: every pregnancy is different. Obviously, this baby wasn’t going to be early.
At 4:30am, I woke needing to pee (a common occurrence late in pregnancy), and realized that for the first time in weeks, I had been sleeping soundly for more than four hours! I felt rested and thought to myself “I’ll never get back to sleep” as I crawled out of bed to head for the bathroom. It wasn’t until I stood up that I realized I was also having a contraction, which again, wasn’t unusual. As I walked into the bathroom, my water broke. This was NOT how I wanted my labor to start! I wanted to labor with my water intact for so many reasons this time: the smell of amniotic fluid gets nauseating after a while, the pain of having a baby’s head against your cervix without the “cushion” of the bag of waters, the restrictions that result when your water breaks early (in hopes of preventing infection). Oh well…there was nothing I could do about it now. I decided to call Sylyna, my midwife, before I woke Jason up. After all, it could be a while before my contractions started or became regular and he’d need his sleep. At 4:45, Sylyna called me back, sounding groggy. I still hadn’t had another contraction, so I had no idea what to tell her except “my water broke and it’s clear.” She asked me to wait 30-45 minutes to assess the contractions before we decided what to do. I should interject here that because Sylyna isn’t licensed as a midwife in my state, the plan was to drive across the border to her home state and birth at her birth center, which is about 1.5 hours away from our house.
After about three contractions, which were somewhere around 3-5 minutes apart and lasting only 30-45 seconds, I decided that I wanted to go ahead and get on the road. I didn’t want to wait 45 minutes and end up riding 1.5 hours in our Ford Explorer (with a very stiff suspension) on Louisiana’s horrible roads with really intense contractions. I called Sylyna back and told her that I’d feel more comfortable if we could go ahead and get on the road. She agreed with me. By this time, Jason was awake (the phone woke him when Sylyna called the first time), so I asked him to call his grandparents to come and stay with Samuel until he woke up. I took a shower, ate a bagel (which took great determination because I kept forgetting about it), and grabbed a few last minute things while we waited for Nana and Granddad to show up.
We got out of the house at about 5:30, but still needed to stop for gas (despite my best attempts to keep at least ½ a tank in the car during the last month of my pregnancy!!). At the gas station, we both picked up some juice and a snack. I had my first contraction in the car while Jason was inside paying and I wanted to turn around and go home. It was going to be a LONG ride. After we got on the road, I told Jason that I wanted to time 2 or 3 contractions and then I needed him to turn the car’s clock off so we didn’t go crazy. They were 3-5 minutes apart, still lasting 30-45 seconds. The drive was uneventful, except for the standard “you don’t need to speed honey” conversations. I didn’t want to get pulled over because first it would have been inconvenient and second they were likely to want to escort us to the nearest hospital, someplace I did not want to be.
As we neared the birth center, I found myself thinking in terms of how many more contractions I had to deal with in the car. It helped a lot, since by now I was feeling a lot of pain in my back and I could feel the pressure of my cervix effacing. When we got there, I forced myself to let Jason take a picture, since I had zero pictures of me pregnant with this baby.
Tina, Sylyna’s apprentice, met us at the birth center and informed us that another mama’s water had broken that morning as well. She was also planning a birth center birth, which really threw a wrench in my plans. I went ahead and let her check me so we could come up with a course of action. I kept telling myself “as long as I’m 4-6 I’ll be okay with that.” I was 4 and 80%. At this point, the magnitude of the other woman’s water breaking hit me. I wanted to leave and come back another day, in all honesty. The birth center is a two-story house, with a living room, half bathroom, kitchen, and breakfast (now birth pool) room on the first floor and two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. There’s not a lot of space there and I was really worried about my privacy. I hadn’t anticipated two women being in labor at once because it just doesn’t happen. I found out later that she and I were the first people it happened to in four years. I called a friend to express my concerns, and must have looked like quite the sight standing outside the birth center, in wet shorts (baby was still high enough that water was leaking around him during contractions), talking on the phone and pausing every once in a while to cling to the fence during a contraction. I was worried that I didn’t have enough clothes because I hadn’t expected to worry about anyone being there but the midwives and me. I didn’t have any underwear because I don’t wear them when I’m pregnant and because I planned to wear the stretchy postpartum underwear home. I was kicking myself for being so careful not to pack too much and as a result under packing. My friend was very understanding, and also concerned that I was going to let this slow my labor down, or even stall it. She offered to drive 1.5 hours to bring me some clothes to labor in, and to doula for me if I needed it. I said I’d call her back after I talked to Jason.
Jason, I guess, was talking to Tina about my concerns while I was on the phone outside, so when I got finished, she met me outside and asked if everything was okay. “No” I answered tearfully. I was really disappointed and concerned about this. I was also worried that the other mama would get in the pool before I could, or that I’d keep the other mama from getting to use the pool during her labor. Tina assured me that we could maintain our privacy and everything would be okay. At that point, the other mama and her FOUR TEENAGE SONS pulled up. I was not reassured. Later, Sylyna came to my room and said that the other mama was only a 2 and she sent her out for breakfast and told her to take her sons home because they couldn’t stay. I didn’t see her for the rest of my stay there.
I retreated to my room, as my contractions were getting pretty strong and I didn’t want to “lose it” in front of this family that I didn’t even know. My friend that I had asked to take pictures showed up, and she, Jason and I sat in the room and chatted between contractions. By now the contractions were strong enough that they were requiring my full attention and Jason’s help through them. I tried lying down to rest a little, but quickly found that I had to jump up every two minutes for a contraction. Standing up was just about the only way the pain in my back was tolerable. At about 9:30, we asked Tina to check me again (I don’t remember why). I was still 4 and 80%. This was immensely disappointing news since I felt like I’d been working so hard all this time.
After she checked me, I tried yet again to urinate (I think partly to escape to the privacy of the bathroom). I knew that I needed to pee, but every time I sat on the toilet, another contraction would start. In the bathroom I had four contractions right on top of each other and the intensity changed so drastically that I screamed for Jason to get in there and help me. He and Tina came running and during the next few contractions I clung to Jason while Tina applied counter pressure to my back. I wasn’t sure it was helping, but wasn’t sure it was hurting, so I didn’t ask her to stop. Tina said the intensity change was probably because she had just checked me and I resolved not to let her check me again until I simply couldn’t cope with the contractions anymore. I changed into my nightgown since the belly panel on my now drenched shorts was getting really uncomfortable. The bathroom wasn’t air-conditioned and I was really hot was I labored in there, but felt trapped by the contractions, which were right on top of each other. When we managed to get back into my room, I stood in front of the A/C unit for every contraction. Poor Jason was freezing, but I was more comfortable there.
At about 11, I couldn’t stand the contractions any longer and asked again to be checked. I had tried resting, sitting, standing, using the birth ball…nothing was working. I wanted in the water, but the midwives wanted to see some change in my cervix before I got in the tub. I knew in my intellect that I didn’t want to get in the water at only 4cm because it could stall my labor, but my intellectual mind was not in control at the time. This time Sylyna checked me and I was 5 and 80%. Again, all that work and no progress. I was starting to feel very defeated and I think I mentioned that this was too much like Samuel’s labor, where I labored on pitocin for 12 hours and only dilated to a 3. Everyone assured me that this was not Samuel’s labor and that I was making progress. Sylyna still didn’t want to let me use the water because she didn’t want things to slow down. I think I got kind of ugly at this point and told her something to the effect of “that tub is the only reason I’m here and if you won’t let me use it I should have stayed at home.” I also promised that if my contractions slowed down, I’d get out of the tub. She relented and went to get the tub ready.
At 11:30 I got in the water and was surprised at how much help it wasn’t. Watching my friend labor in water, her contractions had become 100% more bearable when she got into the tub. This wasn’t the case for me, although the first few contractions did space out a little bit, making me worry that I’d have to get out because of them slowing down. I actually remember praying that they wouldn’t slow down or space out because I really liked the water, even if it wasn’t the magic cure-all that I’d anticipated. I think the answer to my prayer was a resounding “okay, Charlotte, you get your way.”
Contractions in the pool were harder for me to get on top of. What worked for one wouldn’t work for the next and I found myself almost thrashing around during them, going from on my back (with a jet aimed straight at my sacrum), to on my stomach (and no jets better be aimed at my belly!!), to squatting in the middle of the pool, to tailor sitting. One of these positions would work pretty much every time, but going through all of them was causing my contractions to be more painful. After a while, I was again at the point where I needed help through every contraction and Jason didn’t seem quite sure how to help me. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I’m pretty sure I told him that more than once. Tina stepped in and told me that when I started to lose hold over the contraction, she wanted me to open my eyes and lock them with either Jason’s or hers. I tried looking at Jason, but he seemed a little unnerved by it, so during the next contraction I turned to her. She didn’t let my eyes go and breathed with me through every contraction.
After a few like this, I again started to lose it. I was feeling a lot of pressure, but not pushing pressure. I remember that Atley was starting to move during contractions (something he did during the braxton-hicks contractions all through my pregnancy) and I kept yelling “why’s he moving?!?” It made the contraction much more intense. Sylyna noticed that I was starting to bear down at the peak of the contractions and asked if she could check me again. We spent about five minutes arguing about this because I was scared to death that I’d still be a 5, or continue my earlier progression and be only a 6. I finally conceded that I’d let her check me, but then had two double peak contractions only a few seconds apart. I went from crying “what if I’m only a 6?” to “they’ll never stop long enough for you to check!”
She did finally manage to check me and found that I was complete and ready to push, if I wanted to. I always expected that to be a relief, but it was no such thing. I didn’t want to push; I just wanted to have a baby. It took a while to find a comfortable position to push in, but I finally felt like a supported squat in the tub let me push most effectively. My feet were against the wall of the pool and Jason supported my weight by holding my hands. I was really concerned that it was too much for him, because at one point I could feel his arms shaking. I think the hardest part for him was that I’d lean back and nearly fall asleep between contractions, leaving him to support my dead weight. I asked a few times if we needed to find a different position, but then silently rejoiced when he said he was okay.
I didn’t realize until I’d pushed for a while that the baby would be born into the water, and I think I remember asking if he was really going to be born in the pool. When the answer was yes, I told Jason that I was sorry he wasn’t going to get to catch, but I wanted to bring baby up out of the water. I don’t know if this was as big of a deal for him as I think it might have been, but I do know that he really enjoyed catching Samuel and was looking forward to doing the same with this baby. I also remember as the baby started to crown, yelling at Jason that I never should have married someone who weighed more than 9 pounds at birth. Soon after, Atley’s head was born. After his head turned, causing me to yell at him again for moving during a contraction , I said “okay, now for the shoulders.” He was born with the next contraction and I pulled him out of the water. As I held him to my chest, he reared back, lifted his head up and looked around the room. At this, everyone ohhed and ahhed over his size and strength, but he looked small to me. Once again, I proved to be a VERY bad judge of the size of my child. I thought he was smaller than Samuel’s 9 pounds 4 ounces, but he turned out to be 9 pounds, 12 ounces: a full 8 oz difference!!
At 4:30am, I woke needing to pee (a common occurrence late in pregnancy), and realized that for the first time in weeks, I had been sleeping soundly for more than four hours! I felt rested and thought to myself “I’ll never get back to sleep” as I crawled out of bed to head for the bathroom. It wasn’t until I stood up that I realized I was also having a contraction, which again, wasn’t unusual. As I walked into the bathroom, my water broke. This was NOT how I wanted my labor to start! I wanted to labor with my water intact for so many reasons this time: the smell of amniotic fluid gets nauseating after a while, the pain of having a baby’s head against your cervix without the “cushion” of the bag of waters, the restrictions that result when your water breaks early (in hopes of preventing infection). Oh well…there was nothing I could do about it now. I decided to call Sylyna, my midwife, before I woke Jason up. After all, it could be a while before my contractions started or became regular and he’d need his sleep. At 4:45, Sylyna called me back, sounding groggy. I still hadn’t had another contraction, so I had no idea what to tell her except “my water broke and it’s clear.” She asked me to wait 30-45 minutes to assess the contractions before we decided what to do. I should interject here that because Sylyna isn’t licensed as a midwife in my state, the plan was to drive across the border to her home state and birth at her birth center, which is about 1.5 hours away from our house.
After about three contractions, which were somewhere around 3-5 minutes apart and lasting only 30-45 seconds, I decided that I wanted to go ahead and get on the road. I didn’t want to wait 45 minutes and end up riding 1.5 hours in our Ford Explorer (with a very stiff suspension) on Louisiana’s horrible roads with really intense contractions. I called Sylyna back and told her that I’d feel more comfortable if we could go ahead and get on the road. She agreed with me. By this time, Jason was awake (the phone woke him when Sylyna called the first time), so I asked him to call his grandparents to come and stay with Samuel until he woke up. I took a shower, ate a bagel (which took great determination because I kept forgetting about it), and grabbed a few last minute things while we waited for Nana and Granddad to show up.
We got out of the house at about 5:30, but still needed to stop for gas (despite my best attempts to keep at least ½ a tank in the car during the last month of my pregnancy!!). At the gas station, we both picked up some juice and a snack. I had my first contraction in the car while Jason was inside paying and I wanted to turn around and go home. It was going to be a LONG ride. After we got on the road, I told Jason that I wanted to time 2 or 3 contractions and then I needed him to turn the car’s clock off so we didn’t go crazy. They were 3-5 minutes apart, still lasting 30-45 seconds. The drive was uneventful, except for the standard “you don’t need to speed honey” conversations. I didn’t want to get pulled over because first it would have been inconvenient and second they were likely to want to escort us to the nearest hospital, someplace I did not want to be.
As we neared the birth center, I found myself thinking in terms of how many more contractions I had to deal with in the car. It helped a lot, since by now I was feeling a lot of pain in my back and I could feel the pressure of my cervix effacing. When we got there, I forced myself to let Jason take a picture, since I had zero pictures of me pregnant with this baby.
Tina, Sylyna’s apprentice, met us at the birth center and informed us that another mama’s water had broken that morning as well. She was also planning a birth center birth, which really threw a wrench in my plans. I went ahead and let her check me so we could come up with a course of action. I kept telling myself “as long as I’m 4-6 I’ll be okay with that.” I was 4 and 80%. At this point, the magnitude of the other woman’s water breaking hit me. I wanted to leave and come back another day, in all honesty. The birth center is a two-story house, with a living room, half bathroom, kitchen, and breakfast (now birth pool) room on the first floor and two bedrooms and a bathroom on the second floor. There’s not a lot of space there and I was really worried about my privacy. I hadn’t anticipated two women being in labor at once because it just doesn’t happen. I found out later that she and I were the first people it happened to in four years. I called a friend to express my concerns, and must have looked like quite the sight standing outside the birth center, in wet shorts (baby was still high enough that water was leaking around him during contractions), talking on the phone and pausing every once in a while to cling to the fence during a contraction. I was worried that I didn’t have enough clothes because I hadn’t expected to worry about anyone being there but the midwives and me. I didn’t have any underwear because I don’t wear them when I’m pregnant and because I planned to wear the stretchy postpartum underwear home. I was kicking myself for being so careful not to pack too much and as a result under packing. My friend was very understanding, and also concerned that I was going to let this slow my labor down, or even stall it. She offered to drive 1.5 hours to bring me some clothes to labor in, and to doula for me if I needed it. I said I’d call her back after I talked to Jason.
Jason, I guess, was talking to Tina about my concerns while I was on the phone outside, so when I got finished, she met me outside and asked if everything was okay. “No” I answered tearfully. I was really disappointed and concerned about this. I was also worried that the other mama would get in the pool before I could, or that I’d keep the other mama from getting to use the pool during her labor. Tina assured me that we could maintain our privacy and everything would be okay. At that point, the other mama and her FOUR TEENAGE SONS pulled up. I was not reassured. Later, Sylyna came to my room and said that the other mama was only a 2 and she sent her out for breakfast and told her to take her sons home because they couldn’t stay. I didn’t see her for the rest of my stay there.
I retreated to my room, as my contractions were getting pretty strong and I didn’t want to “lose it” in front of this family that I didn’t even know. My friend that I had asked to take pictures showed up, and she, Jason and I sat in the room and chatted between contractions. By now the contractions were strong enough that they were requiring my full attention and Jason’s help through them. I tried lying down to rest a little, but quickly found that I had to jump up every two minutes for a contraction. Standing up was just about the only way the pain in my back was tolerable. At about 9:30, we asked Tina to check me again (I don’t remember why). I was still 4 and 80%. This was immensely disappointing news since I felt like I’d been working so hard all this time.
After she checked me, I tried yet again to urinate (I think partly to escape to the privacy of the bathroom). I knew that I needed to pee, but every time I sat on the toilet, another contraction would start. In the bathroom I had four contractions right on top of each other and the intensity changed so drastically that I screamed for Jason to get in there and help me. He and Tina came running and during the next few contractions I clung to Jason while Tina applied counter pressure to my back. I wasn’t sure it was helping, but wasn’t sure it was hurting, so I didn’t ask her to stop. Tina said the intensity change was probably because she had just checked me and I resolved not to let her check me again until I simply couldn’t cope with the contractions anymore. I changed into my nightgown since the belly panel on my now drenched shorts was getting really uncomfortable. The bathroom wasn’t air-conditioned and I was really hot was I labored in there, but felt trapped by the contractions, which were right on top of each other. When we managed to get back into my room, I stood in front of the A/C unit for every contraction. Poor Jason was freezing, but I was more comfortable there.
At about 11, I couldn’t stand the contractions any longer and asked again to be checked. I had tried resting, sitting, standing, using the birth ball…nothing was working. I wanted in the water, but the midwives wanted to see some change in my cervix before I got in the tub. I knew in my intellect that I didn’t want to get in the water at only 4cm because it could stall my labor, but my intellectual mind was not in control at the time. This time Sylyna checked me and I was 5 and 80%. Again, all that work and no progress. I was starting to feel very defeated and I think I mentioned that this was too much like Samuel’s labor, where I labored on pitocin for 12 hours and only dilated to a 3. Everyone assured me that this was not Samuel’s labor and that I was making progress. Sylyna still didn’t want to let me use the water because she didn’t want things to slow down. I think I got kind of ugly at this point and told her something to the effect of “that tub is the only reason I’m here and if you won’t let me use it I should have stayed at home.” I also promised that if my contractions slowed down, I’d get out of the tub. She relented and went to get the tub ready.
At 11:30 I got in the water and was surprised at how much help it wasn’t. Watching my friend labor in water, her contractions had become 100% more bearable when she got into the tub. This wasn’t the case for me, although the first few contractions did space out a little bit, making me worry that I’d have to get out because of them slowing down. I actually remember praying that they wouldn’t slow down or space out because I really liked the water, even if it wasn’t the magic cure-all that I’d anticipated. I think the answer to my prayer was a resounding “okay, Charlotte, you get your way.”
Contractions in the pool were harder for me to get on top of. What worked for one wouldn’t work for the next and I found myself almost thrashing around during them, going from on my back (with a jet aimed straight at my sacrum), to on my stomach (and no jets better be aimed at my belly!!), to squatting in the middle of the pool, to tailor sitting. One of these positions would work pretty much every time, but going through all of them was causing my contractions to be more painful. After a while, I was again at the point where I needed help through every contraction and Jason didn’t seem quite sure how to help me. I didn’t know what I wanted, and I’m pretty sure I told him that more than once. Tina stepped in and told me that when I started to lose hold over the contraction, she wanted me to open my eyes and lock them with either Jason’s or hers. I tried looking at Jason, but he seemed a little unnerved by it, so during the next contraction I turned to her. She didn’t let my eyes go and breathed with me through every contraction.
After a few like this, I again started to lose it. I was feeling a lot of pressure, but not pushing pressure. I remember that Atley was starting to move during contractions (something he did during the braxton-hicks contractions all through my pregnancy) and I kept yelling “why’s he moving?!?” It made the contraction much more intense. Sylyna noticed that I was starting to bear down at the peak of the contractions and asked if she could check me again. We spent about five minutes arguing about this because I was scared to death that I’d still be a 5, or continue my earlier progression and be only a 6. I finally conceded that I’d let her check me, but then had two double peak contractions only a few seconds apart. I went from crying “what if I’m only a 6?” to “they’ll never stop long enough for you to check!”
She did finally manage to check me and found that I was complete and ready to push, if I wanted to. I always expected that to be a relief, but it was no such thing. I didn’t want to push; I just wanted to have a baby. It took a while to find a comfortable position to push in, but I finally felt like a supported squat in the tub let me push most effectively. My feet were against the wall of the pool and Jason supported my weight by holding my hands. I was really concerned that it was too much for him, because at one point I could feel his arms shaking. I think the hardest part for him was that I’d lean back and nearly fall asleep between contractions, leaving him to support my dead weight. I asked a few times if we needed to find a different position, but then silently rejoiced when he said he was okay.
I didn’t realize until I’d pushed for a while that the baby would be born into the water, and I think I remember asking if he was really going to be born in the pool. When the answer was yes, I told Jason that I was sorry he wasn’t going to get to catch, but I wanted to bring baby up out of the water. I don’t know if this was as big of a deal for him as I think it might have been, but I do know that he really enjoyed catching Samuel and was looking forward to doing the same with this baby. I also remember as the baby started to crown, yelling at Jason that I never should have married someone who weighed more than 9 pounds at birth. Soon after, Atley’s head was born. After his head turned, causing me to yell at him again for moving during a contraction , I said “okay, now for the shoulders.” He was born with the next contraction and I pulled him out of the water. As I held him to my chest, he reared back, lifted his head up and looked around the room. At this, everyone ohhed and ahhed over his size and strength, but he looked small to me. Once again, I proved to be a VERY bad judge of the size of my child. I thought he was smaller than Samuel’s 9 pounds 4 ounces, but he turned out to be 9 pounds, 12 ounces: a full 8 oz difference!!
.
AWWWWWW SWEETIE!!!!! 
bug!! 
Thank you for sharing, and have fun nursing your new bundle !
