Birth Story!
I went into my second pregnancy anticipating to need induction and epidural because I caved to the pain and constant contractions like I did my first. But as the weeks past, my blood pressure never went above normal. By 38 weeks, my daughter’s babysitter who was suppose to watch her while we went to the hospital, had to rush to another state to be with her daughter in premature labor, so I had nobody. I felt this was a sign to try home birth again, so I could fulfill a birth I had wanted from the beginning and be here for my daughter. I found Patrice when I was 38 and a half weeks pregnant. Ready to pop at any minute we thought. But my body played tricks on us until I was actually past due! I didn’t have much time to educate myself, so I went into my labor expecting it to be fairly easy. She had told me since I had pitocin my first labor, I may not know when I’m in active labor since tendency is to wait for it to hurt that badly. Well, all week I was having time able contractions, but they never stayed.
Finally, they stayed. They got more intense. Only 2 minutes apart but not very painful. I could talk, walk around, go potty. It was 1:30am. We let the midwives know and they were here by 2:30am. I know Patrice left shortly after getting here to help with another birth, but Barb stayed with me. I can’t lie – after that I had lost track of time. I just know after a while I wanted a shower, we filled the tub so I could be in there and have what I had seen and imagined. A quiet, peaceful water birth.
This wasn’t my destiny 😅 I was a mover. I went from the bath, to the shower, to the bed, back to the shower. But I did stay in the bath most of the night. Barb periodically checked on me. My daughter slept in my room all night somehow, as we were in the master bathroom. Ultimately, my happy place was in the shower. I wanted so badly to birth in there, but I was afraid to. So I think I put myself through a lot more torture than needed by being too scared to push.
I specifically remember going into transition. I felt a lot more nauseous and had to start swinging my hips in a circular motion to get through the contractions. I had Patrice check me to make sure I wasn’t a baby and actually making progress. (She had made it back to me by now). I was at 9 and a half. She told me I could try to start pushing if I wanted. I went to the bed and got in all these different positions trying to find my happy place, ending up on my back somehow because it’s not what I pictured at all. And what I thought would be a silent and beautiful birth actually ended up being so loud I’m sure my neighbors could hear. I went from expecting to not make a peep and trying to turn myself into “jello” during the pain to thinking of the ONE birth story I heard where a mom had to “roar” her baby out.
And that’s exactly what I did. It hurt so bad, a lot worse than I expected. I wanted to give up so bad. But instead I just had to get him out, my instincts kicked in and started to roar him out the hardest I could. The quickest I could. So I could finally find relief and meet my sweet baby boy. After a lot of sweat, blood and I’m sure some tears…he was out! And all I could say was “I did it”.
My husband was behind me, letting me claw, bite and squeeze all I needed the whole time and felt it was a much more beautiful experience and actually almost made him cry. Where for our daughter’s hospital birth he held my leg and watched. He by far preferred this experience as he felt it was a lot more emotional and beautiful.
Patrice and Barb are now on my list of favorite people on this entire earth. They took me in as a stranger and were willing to bring my last baby into this world for me. They made me feel so comfortable, heard, understood, safe….I am forever greatful for these women and all they did for us! I highly recommend home birth, no matter how far along you are it’s never too late to change your mind, and they’re here to prove it ❤️
