Birth Story 1 and 2:
I have had two children. Each birth was dramatically different and affected me in different ways. I am writing this birth story to share my experiences and find closure for myself. Birth can be an empowering experience for women, or it can be demoralizing. The kind of experience you have will depend on what you know about birth and what your care provider believes about women and childbirth.
My wish for all pregnant women is that they take the time to search their feelings on what kind of birth experience they want, and to carefully select their care providers in order to support and maximize their chances of getting what they want.
When I became pregnant with my first child, I had just moved back home to Washington State. My husband, Kyle, and I were living with a friend, trying to get settled and find permanent living arrangements. About a week after my pregnancy was confirmed, Kyle lost his job, so this wasn’t an ideal time for us, financially or emotionally, to be having a baby!
Since I didn’t have a doctor, I called my sister to find out where she went, and scheduled an appointment. He came well recommended, as my boss’s wife went there, as well as my sister and a friend. He was a very nice man.
During this stressful time, I became focused on the potential size of this baby. My husband’s mother delivered three children, all over 9 pounds each. I was so concerned that I could not deliver a baby that size. When I mentioned this to my doctor, he assured me that he would consider me a higher risk pregnancy and we would monitor the baby’s size. If things looked too big, he would induce labor early.
Essentially, my doctor validated all my irrational fears, and did not mention to me the facts that baby size is generally controlled by the mothers genes, or that most mothers are capable of birthing their own children naturally. What I heard for nine months was that there was a good chance I was defective, and that I would need the doctor to save me from myself. I was very afraid of what labor would do to me.
I did have a late ultrasound in the 38th week. My doctor called me personally to tell me that he thought my baby was well over 9 pounds and that I needed to come in immediately for induction. I called Kyle and packed my bags.
So late in my 38th week, I was induced. I went into the hospital late at night so I could labor overnight, ensuring that I would be ready to deliver during the daytime hours, when it was more convenient for my doctor. Then the hospital took over. The nurses set me up with an IV and let me know that I would have to stay in bed for the duration of my labor – hospital policy. I mentioned I had a birth plan and that I would like to do things like labor in the rocking chair. I was informed that hospital policy did not allow movement during induction and that I would have to stay in bed. I was strongly encouraged to take the narcotic Stadol right away. The nurse told me that it was important that I stay rested while in early labor, so as to have the strength for the pushing part later. I was not in any pain yet, but agreed, since she was the expert, right? I did rest, but the drug left me groggy and unable to focus. When it was time for the second dose, I refused it, and so the nurse suggested I start my epidural instead. From that point on, I didn’t feel a thing.
I labored in bed, on my back the entire time. I had drugs early and heavily and felt little to no pain at any time. But the drugs and the position I was in did not aid my labor. My son was posterior and had not dropped into my pelvis prior to my induction. The consequence was that he did not rotate and did not fit into my pelvis. I pushed for two hours flat on my back with my husband and a nurse holding my legs up. I pushed for two hours in a position that was not working. At no time did anyone suggest I try a different position – on my side, or sitting upright. The nurses just kept telling me to push with the contractions that I could not feel due to the epidural. Then my doctor came in and cheerily decided that my time was up, my baby was indeed too big, and I needed a C-section right away.
I have never felt so defective as a woman.
My recovery was long and painful, as I did not react to the drugs very well. I also did not have any help at home the first few weeks, as my husband had used up all his available time off while I was in the hospital. Much as I loved my new son, being home alone with him, having a terrible time trying to learn how to breastfeed, while recovering from major abdominal surgery was indescribably hard. I cried a lot. I felt overwhelmed. I didn’t think I could do it again.
Then I rationalized it so it would be OK. I told myself, and everyone else, that Beyer babies were just too big and that I would not be able to have another vaginally. I told myself that my doctor was right to push for the C-section; that he knew my body better than I could. He was the expert after all. Time passed and I stopped worrying about it.
Then I became pregnant with my second son, and all the feelings came right back.
I told my doctor at my first prenatal visit that I wanted to labor again. He grimaced and hedged a bit, then told me that it wasn’t safe, and I had already shown that I couldn’t handle labor. I should just let him schedule a C-section from the start. He explained that I would recover so much better from a scheduled C-section and that I didn’t have anything to worry about. He even told me that women who have had children both ways always tell him they prefer the C-section. I should just trust him.
I tried to make myself comfortable with the idea of another C-section. It depressed me to think I might have to repeat that experience. But I really tried to convince myself that it was my only safe option for childbirth. I tried to make peace with myself. I wasn’t having any luck.
Finally, late in my second trimester, I got back online and reviewed the research on VBAC birth: Vaginal Birth After Cesarean. I loved being a student, so the research was a kind of therapy for me. I hoped to prove to myself, one way or the other, that the decisions regarding both my first pregnancy, and my current one were the right ones. What I found was mounting evidence that my first C-section was premature and unnecessary.
I searched official sites, like the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, and the American Academy of Family Physicians. I pulled statistics from the World Health Organization, and the International Cesarean Awareness Network. I searched statement papers from Canadian organizations, as well as local ones. Then I spent time on the natural childbirth sites: Maternitywise.org, VBAC.com, etc. I read nearly every book the library offered on the subject. What I learned startled me.
I learned that there are several techniques during pregnancy that naturalists and midwives use to ensure a baby turns to the correct position before labor. I learned that there are things I can do during pregnancy to give myself the best odds of a successful labor. I read stories of women who had had successful VBACs, delivering babies that were bigger than their first ones, without complication. I read and understood my risks for laboring after a cesarean, namely uterine rupture. I also understood my risks of having a cesarean, namely infection for me, and respiratory distress for my baby.
The more I read, the angrier I got. I asked my doctor about the research, and he kept blowing me off. He was sure that C-section was my only safe option, and seemed annoyed that I would not just take his word for it. The final straw for me was when I asked him for research to back up his professional opinion, and he could not provide me with any. I felt manipulated and bullied into decisions that were based on his convenience, and not my health or wishes. It was at that time that I realized I needed to find a new doctor.
Here I am, 28 weeks pregnant, with no faith in my doctor! I had found through the internet that the Tacoma hospital, Tacoma General, would allow VBAC labors, and that they claim a success rate of 91%. That is an extremely high success rate, and hard to substantiate, but impressive all the same. So I called TG’s birth center and asked the nurses for a list of providers that would do a VBAC and that they liked to work with. Of all the doctors they gave me, only two would consider taking me this late in my pregnancy. That made my choice pretty easy.
I chose the lady doctor after a very positive Meet and Greet appointment. She seemed very compassionate and listened to my concerns. Of course, this was the only time that I saw her in that light. Once I had transferred my file, she seemed to change. She made it clear to me that I would labor her way or else she would not be my doctor. One of my biggest fears was not being able to move around in labor. I did not want to be trapped in the bed, like I was the last time around. But due to Tacoma General’s policy of fetal monitoring, it was possible that I would not be allowed to move during this labor. Although I have the legal right to refuse the intervention of continuous monitoring, my doctor would not support that decision, and would not attend my labor if I insisted. She also emphasized the hazards of labor, and let me know that she would ask me during labor if I wanted to change my mind on the C-section, in case I became scared. I did not feel supported or encouraged at all.
I also felt that she was not giving me accurate information. I had done enough research by this time to feel like an expert on the risks and benefits of a VBAC labor. During one exam, my new doctor commented that my baby hadn’t dropped yet, and that it might indicate that my pelvis might not be adequate for a baby to pass through. However, I know that with second pregnancies, the baby rarely drops before active labor. So the fact that my baby had not dropped before I went into labor only indicated that I am an average pregnant woman. It should not lead anyone to think that I am defective. Once again, I had a doctor that was playing on my fears and suggesting that something was wrong with me.
I felt manipulated all over again. But by this time, I was 37 weeks pregnant, and tired of arguing. I had an opportunity to switch doctors again, this time having access to a midwife, and decided against it. I had looked for a midwife earlier, but state law does not make it possible for a midwife to attend a VBAC birth. This particular midwife works with two doctors at a smaller hospital, who were willing to attend my birth, and let the midwife act as my nurse. I wished I had found the midwife earlier in my pregnancy, but now, I just didn’t have the energy to switch providers again.
I realized that the only way to remain in control of what was happening to me in labor was to stay out of the hospital and away from my doctor. So I decided that I would labor at home as long as I could to minimize interventions in my labor, and then enter the hospital at a point where I probably wouldn’t care if I could walk around anymore. I was so unhappy with my doctor by now, that I hoped she would not be on call when I did go into labor. I also hired a doula to support me during labor to maximize my chances of a successful labor.
A doula, by the way, is like a birth coach. It is a woman whose only job is to support the laboring woman. She makes sure the mother is supported, and that she knows everything is progressing normally. She makes sure that the husband knows how to support his wife, and gives him techniques to help with pain management and emotional support. A doula will come to your home and help you to manage labor until you are ready to go to the hospital, and then she will go to the hospital with you to help you get the support that you want from the hospital staff. She is the mother’s advocate.
I had done all I could to prepare for this birth. I did my research, I understood my risks, I arranged for my support, and I hoped for the best. I also continued to believe in myself, and surrounded myself with people who could believe in me also.
I went into labor around 2am on a Saturday morning. I got up and watched TV on the couch until 5:30am, as my son and husband were both sleeping in my bed. By 5:30 I was ready for someone to get up with me, and also ready for my doula to come over.
My doula, Roslyn, came over around 6am, and my sister was there shortly afterwards to pick up my son for the day. By this time my contractions were consistent and frequent. For most of my labor, my contractions were less than two minutes apart, but only lasted 20-30 seconds. I was very focused on my contractions at this point. Roslyn helped me most by approving and supporting my pain management techniques. She made it clear that the choices I made were mine to make, and whatever I needed to cope with labor was acceptable. If I moaned, she encouraged it, and never laughed or tried to talk me into changing my methods, or to choose something more socially acceptable for pain management. If I ignored her and couldn’t answer her questions, she acted like that was perfectly normal. She kept me calmer than I could have been on my own, and made me feel safe. Roslyn made suggestions to help me keep my focus and to help make sure labor was progressing, as well as kept me drinking so I didn’t dehydrate.
Roslyn’s support made all the difference for me. With her help, I was able to keep my focus and cope with the pain of labor. There was not a point where I felt overwhelmed or wanted to go to the hospital because I needed pain medication. I was that comfortable at home.
At one point, Roslyn suggested I get into the tub to try and slow my contractions down, as they were right on top of each other, but still very short. She felt that slowing my contractions down might make them last longer, and help my cervix dilate more efficiently. So we went upstairs and my husband started some water in the tub. I had just gotten both legs in the tub when my water broke! It was great timing. And easy cleanup! All we had to do was drain the water and refill the tub. So we all got a little laugh about that.
It was at this point that Roslyn realized my breathing had changed with each contraction. She asked me if I had noticed any change and I nodded yes. She then asked if I was pushing with each contraction, and I nodded again. She said it was time to consider going to the hospital. I had been so focused on riding out each contraction that I was not paying attention to the big picture. I was already fully dilated and pushing in my bathtub!
The ride to the hospital was the worst part of labor, but thankfully not a very long ride. We got there in record time! I asked Kyle to find me a wheelchair as I did not think I could walk to the birth center. A nurse came right out with the chair and helped me out of the car. I apparently looked like I was definitely in labor because they didn’t even check me at emergency, they just wheeled me directly to a birthing room in the birth center. I remember getting into the bed, and a nurse casually telling me that she needed to check my progress so they would know where my labor was at. I nodded and she checked my cervix, then things got busy. Apparently I was fully dilated and at +3 station, which means I was about to crown with this baby! I completed my entire labor in the comfort of my home without complication or pain medication!
The nursing staff was running around trying to get an IV started and get the fetal monitors attached. Their policy is to have 20 minutes of continuous monitoring on file at the beginning of each admitted laboring woman’s stay. I didn’t give them much time.
The nurse told me that the doctor on call, Dr. Nickle, liked to deliver women on their backs in stirrups. This was one of the few times I actually talked during my labor, when I told her that that would not happen to me, period. I would not discuss it. I was delivering this baby sitting up, by converting the bed into a kind of birthing chair and using the squatting bar. My husband sat behind me so I could lean back into him for support. When Dr. Nickle came in, his comment to me was “well, this isn’t Viet Nam, but I guess we can try it” Followed by “how am I supposed to catch this baby, on my back like I am changing the oil?” He also made sure to lecture me on the dangers of laboring at home and how irresponsible it was for me to wait as long as I did. While his point may have had some validity, I am sure it was irrelevant and not very helpful at the time.
If it weren’t for Roslyn, I think I would have panicked at this point! But she kept me focused and reminded me that we were doing just fine without the doctor, and that I could keep on laboring as I liked. So I tuned him out and stayed focused on the contractions.
When I refused the episiotomy, Dr. Nickle seemed at a loss as to what he should do, so he took a chair into the corner and worked on his paperwork while I labored with my doula and a nurse. When I felt my baby’s head being delivered, I heard the nurse ask the doctor if he could come help out. That is when he finally became an active participant in my delivery. Baby Aidan had his right arm up with his hand near his cheek, and Dr. Nickle had to pull his arm out in order to rotate his shoulders for delivery. Then all at once, my baby was born and placed on my belly, all wet and slimy and perfect!
Once I agreed to put my feet up in stirrups so the doctor could check me for tears, he turned into a very personable man. I think he was more comfortable relating to woman in that position! And by this time, I was feeling pretty proud of myself and didn’t notice any pain. I only had eyes for my new little boy. I did have a second degree tear that required some stitching, but it was smaller than an episiotomy would have been!
I stayed in the hospital overnight and then asked to be discharged. I could have stayed another day to rest, but I was still upset over the way I was treated by my own doctors to have any faith in the hospital. I just wanted to get out of there! So once I was declared healthy, we packed up and went home.
I am very proud and amazed at how my second birth turned out. I have a new respect for myself and my body. It is amazing what women can do! My only regret is that I felt that I had to avoid the hospital in order to labor naturally. If something had gone wrong, it could have been tragic. I wish that the doctors and hospital could have supported my right to have the kind of labor and birth I wanted, and have it within the safety net of the hospital setting. But that was not the case. I had to choose between their kind of labor, with no control over my progress or interventions, or going it alone at home. I stand by the choices I made, but a part of me wonders how I could have coped if something had gone wrong. It isn’t right that I had to choose.
Birth Story for Baby #3: Olivia
The journey to your birth has been long and exciting for me, and even included a surprise ending I never expected.
Your daddy and I spent a lot of time considering if we should try for a third child. Was the time right, could be afford it, could we handle the extra time and attention each child would need in a house of 5…Well, the answer must have been yes, because I did become pregnant with you in May of 2008. Ironically enough, I took the home pregnancy test to confirm it the day your daddy was laid off from his job! We could only laugh at the timing….Daddy had lost his job a couple weeks after we found out about your brother too! It was stressful that time, but we made it through, and knew we would be fine this time too!
Just like with your brothers, I had morning sickness with you. I was still working swing shift at the time, and had to hide my illness from my friends since I didn’t want to tell anyone so early in my pregnancy. The worst month of it was July, and I didn’t work that month, so that was a blessing! When I started up another 5 month contract in August, I was starting to feel better.
I started my care in Tacoma with Dr. Boutry. I expected to deliver you at Tacoma General, since I didn’t know any other hospital that would allow me to labor with you. But I just wasn’t happy with the care I was getting. You were not a disease or a medical problem to be managed. I just wanted to be treated like a healthy, normal pregnant woman carrying a healthy baby! So I started to search again…I toured 3 hospitals this time, making my count 4 if you include Auburn, where I had Ethan. I called several OBs and midwives trying to find a supportive doctor. I found that the best fit for me would have been a midwife and a homebirth, but could not find one due to liability issues. My cesarean with Ethan limits my options!
Finally, I was referred to Dr Gramann in Enumclaw. So far away! But I went to meet him anyway, I figured it couldn’t hurt to ask questions. Even driving in I had my doubts. He is 1.5 hours away from our home. That’s a long drive in labor! But I liked him. He was calm and honest, and treated me like a smart, informed, healthy pregnant woman. We agreed in philosophy as to how your labor and birth should play out. So, at about 24 weeks pregnant, I switched to his practice.
Everything was great after that. My appointments were interesting and normal. Dr Gramann remained very supportive of me and my right to decide how I wanted to be treated. I looked forward to having you at Enumclaw hospital. The hospital is small, but the nurses seemed so very friendly and helpful. Everything was ready to go.
Except you! I was induced with both your brothers (Ethan by the doctor, Aidan with Castor Oil) at around 39 weeks so I assumed you would be ready about then too. Except you weren’t! And as my estimated due date approached and passed, I got a little nervous and cranky! I mean, you were a good size baby and had your feet in my ribs all the time. It was getting a bit uncomfortable for me to carry you around. I even took an ounce of castor oil on the 8th to try and nudge you along for a 9th delivery date. You were just not interested!
At this point, the calls started. Friends and family wanted to know if you planned on arriving any time soon. And some were worried because of my C-Section that I was placing both of us at risk by not inducing, or having another surgery to deliver you. They were making me irritable and worried. I needed support as a full term pregnant woman, not worry! My hormones were all over the map. So I talked to Dr Gramann and he assured me that everything looked great and I shouldn’t worry. We talked about my concerns, like having a faster labor and having to travel so far while having contractions. He agreed that I should come to Enumclaw at the first sign of labor, and hang out at a hotel so I would be close when I needed him. Having a plan helped me to relax. I also stopped answering the phone and started letting daddy field all the well meaning callers!
Your daddy mentioned that this Friday was a Friday the 13th. Daddy was born on the 13th of November and thought it would be neat to have you share his day, if not his birth month. So we started hoping for that. On Thursday night, I decided to give you another small nudge, using a couple home induction remedies. I took a very small amount of castor oil to help clear out my system, less than an ounce, around 9pm. I had eaten a heavy Mexican dish the night before and hated the idea of being uncomfortable because of that. It hadn’t worked before, but even if it just cleared me out, I was OK with it. Daddy and I watched TV until 11pm and went to bed.
At 11:45 I woke up with a very strong cramp in my bowels. I got up to use the bathroom thinking it was so stupid to take the castor oil. Now I wasn’t going to get any sleep and would be in the bathroom all night. Well, I went to the bathroom and quickly realized that this was not just stomach cramps. I think I might be in labor!
The pain was so strong though, I was getting worried. I was only 4 or 5 contractions into this labor and I was already thinking I needed drugs! So much for my natural labor convictions! In my defense, I didn’t realize how serious things were yet. I thought I was still in early labor.
I have read that sitting on the toilet can help you relax your muscles and make labor more effective and possibly more comfortable. All I know is that when the contractions came, I had to shift my hips so I wasn’t centered, either sitting or standing. So you probably weren’t descending evenly. I coped with some contractions by leaning sideways against the wall with one hip cocked. The intensity worried me for a bit, but the position helped me get through them. It is amazing to me that my body instinctively knew what to do to ease my pain and help you straighten out.
I yelled for daddy but he was sleeping so deeply he didn’t wake up. So I got up from the bathroom and walked back to bed to shake him. It was about midnight by now. He was drowsy, but when he tried to fall back to sleep and heard me yell at him, he knew something was up and got up quickly!
Daddy could see I was in labor but he didn’t realize how strong the pains were. He got dressed and went downstairs to get ready to go to the hospital. He was unloading the dishwasher when he heard the next contraction and realized he needed to come back upstairs. At that point, I was leaning against the side of the tub just trying to cope. That’s when I felt your head! I gasped to daddy to get me a wet wash cloth, and he hurried to get one. I used it to hold your head so you would slow down a bit, and told daddy that we were going to have you right now, right here in the bathroom!
Your daddy was a trooper! He didn’t question me or panic at all. He just said, “I am going to call the paramedics” and walked out of the bathroom. He was back in a flash after calling 911, unlocking the front door for them, and getting some towels for us.
I got down on the floor, leaning over the tub on my knees, and that is where I stayed. I had thought about getting in the tub in an effort to slow my labor with hot water, but I just couldn’t move another step. I held your head with my wash cloth the best I could (my big belly made the reach hard for me, but I did my best!) until daddy had towels down and was ready to catch. The 911 dispatcher was on the speakerphone giving directions, but I just ignored her. She wanted me to move, roll over and get in a different position based on her emergency manual. I was not moving from my fairly comfortable position (as far as labor goes, anyway!). And daddy is smart enough to know that it wasn’t the time to try and make me do anything! When the dispatcher told daddy to cradle your head once it emerged, I let go of the wash cloth and let daddy take over that job. Then I just let the contractions take over. It didn’t take long! Daddy was watching for your head, and saw you come out with your eyes open, looking at him. Then he cradled your head and body and caught you in his arms. What a beautiful moment for all of us! Time was about 12:22am on Friday the 13th, 2009. 35 minutes of labor.
You were born without medical intervention or violence. You were slimy, I was covered in blood and bodily fluids, but we both were pretty calm and relaxed. I rolled over, taking care to unravel the cord from your neck, where it was wrapped once. Then daddy handed you to me and we waited for your first breath. I held you sideways with your mouth pointing down to help drain any amniotic fluid you might have left in you. Those few seconds were the longest of my life! But you did breath just fine and I pulled you up to my chest and we covered you up to keep us both warm. That’s when the paramedics arrived! Daddy and the lady EMT helped me to remove my nightshirt, so I could lay you on my skin and try to nurse you.
Capt. Don Wilson of the Yelm Fire Department clamped the cord and presented daddy with a scalpel to cut it. He came in the fire truck, followed by an aid car, and a transport ambulance. Of the 7 EMTs, Don was the most qualified, with me being his third birth. Two he actually helped deliver, and then you, already out! There was the lady EMT who said I was her third placenta! She had missed the actual birth three times now! I don’t remember seeing any of the other EMT’s faces from my perch on the floor between the toilet and the tub. But I did see a lot of shoes! It seemed to get pretty loud then. Like there was a party in my bedroom. I was surprised that the boys didn’t wake up with all the commotion!
Then we waited for the placenta to arrive. Except it didn’t! My contractions had really slowed at this point, and you were not interested in nursing right away. So I didn’t have any help to encourage the placenta to detach. And it was just as stubborn as can be! If it had detached, I probably would have declined the ambulance ride to St. Peters in Olympia, and had daddy take us to Enumclaw as planned. But with the placenta still attached, I was facing a risk to my health and so we agreed to go to the nearest hospital for help.
Let me just tell you, it was a short walk to the chair the EMTs would use to carry me out of the house, but it was a strange walk. The umbilical cord was hanging out of me still, and by now it was cold and rubbery. Very strange to walk with that swinging between my legs! The lady EMT joked that it was my tail, and to not mind it! I just carried it with me, trying to not get blood on the carpet!
The EMTs carried me down the stairs in the chair while daddy carried you wrapped up in towels. Then we transferred to the standard ambulance bed and daddy handed you back to me. He also got my robe for me so I wouldn’t have to go to the hospital completely naked! Thanks daddy!
It was a quiet ride to the hospital. I continued to massage my uterus trying to encourage contractions, and you just watched the world go by. You were so alert and calm. You just weren’t ready to nurse at all! Too bad for me!
We arrived at St Peters in Olympia and met with the nurses and an intern who tried to forcibly pull my placenta out. That really hurt, and after a while, I had to ask her to stop. They could not give my any medications until they processed me, and were waiting for daddy to do that. So it was a bit of a painful waiting game until that happened. Then the doctor arrived! With him came my admission paperwork and a shot of morphine! Thank you Dr Bell! Now while the doctor tried to remove the placenta, I had a bit of pain relief to help me cope.
Dr Bell looked like a really cute teenager, and daddy was worried that he didn’t have enough training to be a real doctor! I just remember thinking he was really young, and hoping he knew what he was doing! Then I closed my eyes again to focus on coping with the pain.
St. Peter’s does not take VBAC patients, and Dr Bell was really uncomfortable with me. It was as if he didn’t know what he could give me, that wouldn’t affect my previous scar. Since the placenta was still attached after 3 hours at this point, his recommendation was a D & C surgery to remove it. He went over this long list of risks with me. I just wanted to know why he didn’t just give me a pitocin shot. I think he knew that pitocin is not recommended for VBAC patients, and wanted to avoid that. But I knew that my uterus was not going to rupture when the baby was already out, and I definitely didn’t want surgery as my first option! Dr Bell was reluctant, but finally agreed to try a small dose of pitocin. It took less than 5 minutes after that and my placenta finally gave up and came out all in one piece! Thank you placenta!!
You looked so good that we didn’t have to admit you at all. This saved us on the hospital bill, but created a bit of a hassle in regards to getting your birth registered and getting you a vitamin K shot. But we worked out the shot with your pediatrician, and Capt. Wilson was able to certify you so we could apply for a birth certificate.
Your birth was so fast, that it was over before we had time to process that we were even in labor. It took a while of thinking back to remember the details of what had happened. What an amazing experience! And I have a great birth story to tell. I have now done it all: Failed induction with a C-Section, home induction with a natural drug-free hospital delivery, and precipitous labor with emergency unassisted homebirth with daddy. What else is there to do?
All I know, is I am so happy to finally meet you! You have been a calm and easy baby this first week, aside from the nursing, and we love having you here. Nursing continues to improve each day and we look forward to having you in the family. Ethan loves to hold you and have pictures taken. Aidan loves to rub your brown hair and tell me “nice hair!” I think we will be fine!