The Birth Story of Madelyn Marie

Madelyn Marie’s story 💜** This is a story of loss and grief. It’s ok if you can handle reading it emotionally! **

I’ve never known a grief like this. I’ve said good bye to aunts and uncles and a grandma but losing a child is something different altogether. It truly is the meaning of tragedy, heartbreak, and pain. Is like to be vulnerable and push forward and share this tender journey with you. I’m not sharing because I need words of comfort or wisdom or anything of that sort, but because I’ve learned what it means to love deeply and to lose, and because I think this is a very brave step I need to take for my own healing. I’ve been afraid to even speak my babies name in front of friends lest i break down and cry.

But my angel baby is real. She is alive in heaven. She is worthy of being honored and treasured and spoken of no different than my babies here on earth. She is a part of my soul forever engrained and never forgotten.

This Mother’s Day marked almost two months since I gave birth to a baby who had no heartbeat, and I think it’s time to share. ** trigger warning** I don’t want to make anyone too sad or what not but I want to be open and honest.
It started out a lovely pregnancy! It was easier than my other two and I had less morning sickness but it was still there. Often times for whatever odd reason all I could smell was onions and it was terrible!

I spent many days day-dreaming of life with 3 beautiful girls, sharing sisterhood, something I never had. I would imagine what it looked like to bathe three tiny humans at the same time, how I would arrange the bedrooms and who would sleep where. I would hold Norah at night in the rocking chair while she was sleeping just dreaming of this new baby, and all the ways I could decorate and make her a beautiful space in our home. She was treasured the moment we knew we were pregnant. She is our baby and we love her.

I had spent the previous weekend in California with one of my best friends celebrating her beautiful baby at her shower who was 5 weeks ahead of mine. We played in the waves at Huntington Beach and I felt healthy as ever, no idea that I’d already lost the baby inside me. My body didn’t say a thing. And I am oh so thankful for those last memories of being pregnant with Madelyn.

The following Tuesday, the night before our prenatal appointment, I was putting the girls to bed and my sweet Juliette said the most interesting thing. She looked at my bird tattoo and said, “that’s the mama bird and those are her babies.” My tattoo has one large sparrow and four small sparrows flying behind it. It resonated with me that entire evening and gave me peace. I had a miscarriage before Juliette was conceived the same day I got a positive pregnant test. The day before Mother’s Day 2012. I felt like my birds were representing all 4 of my babies. I finally accepted in my heart that Madelyn would be my last baby and our home would be full. I finally let go and accepted that I’d give every last ounce of me to Madelyn, that I’d give up my dream of one day having a little boy and have complete peace over my three beautiful daughters. My husband talked and prayed and found peace together in it with no clue what the next morning held.

Wednesday morning we woke up and rushed out the door for our 9 AM prenatal just like we always had. We started the appointment talking about birth photographers and laughing and chatting with our midwife as always. My weight gain was fine, my blood pressure was perfect as always.

Then she went to listen for the heartbeat.

I laughed it off that it took her a little while and said, “oh she must be super wiggly and running away from you today!”

She took out her lap top ultrasound machine and there was Madelyn. Tiny. With no heartbeat. I didn’t believe it though, I held onto hope that it was just a fluke.

After all, I was 22 weeks pregnant, how could that possibly be real?

We went and got coffee cuz it happened and my dear friend came and grabbed the girls. Micahs mom rushed up from Vancouver to come help.

It was all a blur. Going too fast. Every step from here on out felt like a sick twisted nightmare. How could this be real?

It was raining and gray out that day. Fitting for the way we felt. We went to another medical building for a professional ultrasound and they said she had grown as big as a 17 week old baby. “I’m so sorry for your loss”

Those words in which I never thought I’d hear for myself but only say to others. Those words were awful and filled me with anger and irritated me. They did not mean enough and they did not feel empathetic. I just wanted my baby. I just kept wishing I’d wake up. Please God please let this be a bad dream.

Why me? Why Madelyn? What did I do wrong?

We then chose to head the hospital. It was time. I couldn’t bear the thought of waiting at home for labor to stop considering I had no clue when she had passed, it could’ve been up to 4 weeks prior. I was sick at the thought of a dead baby sitting inside of me, while at the same time not wanting to let her go. She was mine after all, a person is a person no matter how small.

Being in the hospital was scary mostly because I shouldn’t have been there. I should’ve gone home from my prenatal visit full of bliss and innocence like many of my other pregnant friends this year.

I started medicine to induce labor that Wednesday afternoon and was twisted sick with emotions. So much crying. Deep, awful, ugly crying. Gasping for air and just wanting to wake up, my husband crying along side me. We hardly slept as we waited for labor. But my body didn’t want to let go either. My body wanted to hold onto hope and hold on to that pregnancy as long as it could. Every fiber of my being loved that tiny little girl.

I was thankful for the floods of support, parents who came up to visit, and phone calls, messages and flowers and gifts we received. I treasured each one and really felt like we were being held together on a wave of prayer through all of it. I don’t know if I’d ever been so supported or lifted up on my entire life.

It’s amazing that even though I’ve moved hours away from my hometown I felt treasured and loved and cared for by people who meant so much.

Thursday around 11 pm the labor pains started getting stronger and hit me like a wave.

I was so unprepared for this. I didn’t know what to expect or what to do. I wasn’t ready, I was afraid, what would she look like? Why does this have to happen?

I tried to be strong and I tried to give her my best but when the nurse said, “it’s ok, you can get in the birthing tub if you like.” I broke. I couldn’t do it. With each contraction came a flood of tears and I just wanted them to stop. Please stop baby, please don’t go.

I opted for pain medicine and felt relief from only the physical and soon after started bleeding. She was born promptly after around 1 AM Friday morning.

We spent the entire night with her in our room. We held her. We sang to her. We got her fingerprints.

Micah had his one and only father daughter dance with our sweet sweet Madalyn.

She was beautiful. Her lips were just like Juliette’s and she would’ve looked just like her sisters. She was tiny, oh so tiny.

I will never forget the beauty of our daughter Madelyn. Our sweet angel who’s being cared for in heaven. I’ll never understand it, but I’ll always honor her. Nothing will replace the ache in my heart for her. It’s a love I’ve never known. A part of our family is missing and even two months we feel that weight every single day.
The days following have been a roller coaster to say the least. There’s been grief and joy, fights and deep cries, as a couple it’s a bond like no other.
When you realize how quickly life can disappear, in the blink of an eye we could lose our children or each other, you never what day is yours to die. When those realizations hit and you turn them to Jesus it’s as if you all can do is give thanks and pray to love deeper. Every day is a treasure. God has given me so much beauty here on earth He has given me life.

Sure, theology can get messy, marriages come with their own aches, and every family has their issues.

But I will choose to remember how precious life and to love even when I don’t want to.

My baby is alive and she is in heaven, I will choose joy and peace today, I will choose to trust my God through this storm.

There are tons of feelings, emotions, and thoughts that I can’t even begin to process or write in a simple blog post. I wanted to share this because I want to heal, and because this is a birth story no matter how hard. She was a living being and she is worthy of remembering and celebrating. I will not hold her in my arms but she will be held in my heart forever.

Thank you to everyone who has supported me through this 💜 Just being a good friend is what has meant more anything than through this time.

 

“Even those that never fully blossom bring beauty into the world.” – author unknown

Becoming a Stay at Home Mom

Juliette (2 months old) and Me

The decision to become a stay at home mom was not a very easy one to make. I had a lot of choices to weigh before the decision was made, it kind of lingered in the air and we didn’t actually make the decision until after Juliette was born, and it was a complete leap of faith. The pros far outweigh any cons that there may be in the job, but still I struggled, and still struggle, with the decision on an internal level. I’m only 3 and a half months in so far and I wouldn’t trade it for the world, but there are lots of ups & downs.

You know the saying, “You are your own worst enemy”? Well, that’s me. I have never judged another stay at home mom, heck, my mom was a stay at home mom and I couldn’t be more thankful that in all my childhood memories she was there every day. When it comes to myself though, I had a lot of internal weight and baggage before making the decision. It doesn’t really make much sense because when I look at another mom who’s decided to stay at home I can’t help but think of how noble & beautiful their decision is, but going into it I was afraid I would be seen as lazy, inadequate, and giving up my independence. I had my first CNA job at seventeen, and worked up  until my 9th month of pregnancy. The job is taxing, I worked hard every day taking care of people with Alzheimer’s mostly, but I had a few other care-giving jobs for people with other illnesses. Needless to say, I was used to having a boss, a job list & description, going to work & coming home to relax. It was routine, normal and had become my identity. Thinking of giving it up was both wonderful  and terrifying. It’s terrifying to realize that you’re in you’re 20’s and never finished college, and will never have a culturally successful career. When you read magazines  and look at media  about other mothers, it’s the working mom who seems to be glorified. I’ve struggled with beating myself up over this even though everyone I know congratulates me and seems to think I’m making the best choice I possibly could and that I am lucky that I’m able to stay home. My hope is that eventually this will become my identity and the working days will be behind me, although never forgotten.

My expectations and the reality of it are quite different. Sometimes I feel as if I have no idea what i’m doing. It’s an odd thing not having a boss, nobody watching over me or making sure i’m doing things right. This is my household and the only one I answer to is my God. It’s weird not having a checklist or someone coming through and doing inspections to make sure everything is in order. I like to be told how things are supposed to be, it’s how i’m used to working. Now though, I feel like i’m winging it. I thought it would be so simple, I had a picture in my head of a 50’s housewife. Ironing my husbands work cloths, cooking dinner, keeping the house sparkling and happy and filled with guests and the happiest God fearing family. Ha. I suppose I must watch too much television? It’s bizarre to me that I could take care of a cottage full of 20 rough tumble Alzheimer’s patients with one other caregiver and a med-aide like a breeze, but when it comes to being a housewife/ stay at home mom, I have no idea how women do this and make it look so easy!

I certainly feel like I took my own mother for granted, raising me & my brothers. Thank you mom, I’m truly learning all you sacrificed for us.

When I search in my deepest heart of hearts, look past the inner dialogue and search for the bigger picture I see that it’s not about me in the least. It’s about my Juliette Rose. God’s asked me to give up my self for her and to lay down my life. Currently I have no car, no job, no real hobbies and feel like i’ve been humbled down into a little version of who I once was so that I can raise the most beautiful daughter. I think God is teaching me a big lesson here, a lesson that will last the next 18 years of my life. That it’s not about me. While God has taken away alot and asked me to do a big job that I had no previous training or experience for, He’s given me SOO much. My daughter, my hard working husband who provides for us, and the ability to make our house a home.

I couldn’t ask for anything more, and I’d give it all up a thousand times over.

The Beginning, Juliette’s First Month

Coming home from the hospital

Right after her bath in her kitty towel

In her stroller (she’s too small for it but we had her buckled in safe, went slowly, and used the headrest from the carseat)

Daddy drumming on her tummy and making her smile!

First Bath! The only bath she didn’t like

During the first month of Juliette’s life I was not the kind of mom who stayed up in her house everyday until she was healed, in fact on my fifth day post-partum we went grocery shopping with Juliette held close in my Moby wrap. Upon going out in public, I typically always get asked a few of the same questions: “Is it a boy or girl?” “how are you doing emotionally?” “Are you breastfeeding?” “Do you get any sleep at night?”. Going out in public is actually quite amusing to me, I get lots of funny people asking personal questions, and while this may have been inappropriate or awkward pre-pregnancy, now it’s just a conversation starter. It makes me laugh that people think it’s funny to say things like, “I’m going to steal your baby” or “can I hold her?” when they have clearly just sneezed/coughed all over their hands and she is clearly sleeping tucked into Moby and finally calm. Having Juliette next to me when around others has caught me off guard in the sense that I have no idea what to talk about anymore except how awesome my baby is, I think that must mean it’s about time to get some sort of hobby.

I feel the need to answer those questions considering they really do sum up the first month of parenthood. I’ve realized that I could probably dress her in a pink tutu with a giant bow on her and a shirt that says, “Daddy’s Princess” and people will still ask if she’s a girl or not. I really don’t understand why, maybe there is just so much gender confusion now a days that even baby’s can be boys in dresses and pink bows? That’s about all I can come up with on that one. It is kind of frustrating though, considering we have a purple carseat, and I always dress her in a cute bow to go in public and almost all her outfits are pink. Oh well, atleast I know she’s my little princess.

Oh emotions. The first month was chalked full of emotions, alot of them were tied to my “breastfeeding is hard” post. Other than the obvious breastfeeding battle that I dealt with, I could cry at the drop of a hat. I would just look at my baby and cry! Not a sad or depressed kind of crying, but just big ol’ crocodile tears that came out of nowhere, I had no control over, and they were usually happy tears. EVERYTHING made me cry, sometimes it was a bit embarrassing and micah got a good laugh out of it. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t even watch commercials. I remember crying over my food because it tasted so good, it was a bit ridiculous. Also, my body was incredibly sore. I knew childbirth was supposed to hurt, but nobody told me that afterward it would feel like I ran a marathon then got hit by a truck. On Juliette’s fifth day of life, I was anxious to get out of the house already and so we went on our first outing… to Winco. I put her in my Moby wrap and boy, just making it to the back of the store was exhausting! I had to sit down and take a breather. It pretty much felt like I had done the most intense workout of my life, which I suppose I literally did. I kind of wish someone would have warned me about that, or maybe they did, but I wish I would have listened.

One of the most precious moments was coming home from the hospital. Sitting in the back of the car with my little Juliette, her legs sat so perfectly that it looked like she was doing yoga, or that her legs her were exactly the way they sat in the womb. I remember just staring at her while feeling amazed and anxious, giant tears streamed down my face the entire drive that I had no control over, she was just so beautiful. It was enchanting, seeing the beautiful blue sky on a warm sunny day, and feeling the fresh non-hospital air that surrounded us. I couldn’t help but think how incredible God was, and that it was amazing that we (Micah and I) were actually allowed to take such a tiny little baby home. It was a little overwhelming, knowing that when the car stopped we’d be introducing her to our home, our cats, our lives as imperfect as they are. We had no idea what this would bring, and now we didn’t have nurses at the push of a button. This little tiny baby was all ours. It still gives me chills just to remember those feelings, I had to take a deep breath and really brace myself before taking her inside the house, it was all just so unbelievable. A few short days ago she had been safe inside my belly, and now it was time to protect and nurture outside of my belly. That is a day I will never, ever forget.

Sleeping. This seems to be one of the most popular topics when becoming a new mom. As soon as someone sees you with that sweet little babe they immediately ask if you’re sleeping and go on to say that they remember their sleepless nights. In all honesty, those first weeks kind of became a blur. The first two or three weeks I remember that when I was up in the middle of the night feeding Juliette and trying to rock her back to sleep I just had to keep telling myself, “You’ve made it one more day, the night is almost over, you can do this.” She didn’t sleep very much at first, I didn’t really keep track and I just fed her on demand, but I had a lot of nights where I just sat out in the living room with her from 2 A.M. to 5 A.M. trying to figure out how to comfort her and trying not to wake my husband before he went to work. Those days were blurry, and at times the lack of sleep and pain of breastfeeding really got to me but reminding myself continually that other women have gone through this too, and that i’m not alone and Juliette doesn’t have to sleep perfect made it much better. Swaddling really made sleeping much easier, she would sleep longer and better, so long as she didn’t houdini herself out of it. She was pretty much a pro at getting out of her swaddle, and by 6 weeks I gave up on it altogether. We attempted the 5 S’s from the book, Happiest Baby On The Block which included: Swaddle, Sway, Sound, Suck and Side. Apparently it can calm any colicky baby to do those things in a particular order, and boy did it work for Juliette! She did a few nights where she slept 9 hour long stretches, but now i’ve realized that she does those stretches of sleep right before a growth spurt where she doesn’t sleep at all! Literally the calm before the storm.

The truth about sleeping is that in the beginning it didn’t really matter if I was getting enough sleep, I wasn’t frustrated about it and I could have really cared less. I was allowed to stay at home and veg in my pajamas with my baby every day, and everything was so new that I kind of just adapted. Waking up to take care of her wasn’t so bad, because she was so little and helpless, and beautiful that I wanted to be up with her. Considering she was breastfed, she was supposed to be up in the night and it was normal. Her little stomach digests the milk so fast that it’s normal for to wake up every 2 hours at first.

It feel as if my baby grew so fast, literally and figuratively. Two weeks post partum and she had already gained well over a pound from her birth weight (lots of babies are still trying to get back to birth weight at that point). At two weeks she started smiling at us, not just smiling in her sleep or because of gas, but right at us. It first happened when Micah was playing with her and drumming on her tummy with her own hands, she loved it. She would also smile at bath time. The beginning newborn stage was kind of nice because she would sleep so hard that it was easy to take her places, like on a date to Mcmenamins for mothers day, or to church etc., she wasn’t a particularly fussy baby, she was usually pretty calm. She really only cried if I waited to long to feed her on accident or if her tummy was upset.

I’m sure I forget to mention quite a few things about that first month as I should have written this a while ago, but the first month was beautiful and full of wonder and excitement. She was so new, a clear slate, she has the whole to learn about, and the world to learn about her.

Breastfeeding IS hard

Our first nursing session

“A newborn baby has only three demands.  They are warmth in the arms of its mother, food from her breasts, and security in the knowledge of her presence.  Breastfeeding satisfies all three.”  ~Grantly Dick-Read. In only 6 weeks of breastfeeding my daughter and I have already overcome many struggles and hardships, I felt like nobody had warned me that breast feeding would be so hard. I knew while I was pregnant that I would breastfeed, I mean, I wanted to have an unmedicated natural birth. I figured breastfeeding would just be simple, put the baby on the boob and you’re good to go, right? Well, there was a lot more to it than that.

It was painful. The first time we nursed was bliss because it was my brand new baby, I was full of hormones and excitement and pure bewilderment, but later that day  I started to realize that it was painful. When the nurses asked my pain level I would only say 1 or 2, I mean I had just given birth and this pain was minimal compared to that, I still felt like superwoman. My nipples became cracked and very sore the very first day and I got very frustrated because the positions to hold her in were not very  natural feeling and I cried and told Micah that I had no idea what the heck I was doing and that I regret not reading any books or doing any research on breastfeeding. I knew so much about birth, but I was learning everything about breastfeeding firsthand, then and there. The nurses were so sweet, they came and showed me how to hold her in different positions, and they kept reassuring that the pain was just because nursing was new and my nipples weren’t used to it, they said it would heal in a few days and everything should be fine.

The next two weeks were hard. I cried a lot, from a mix of lack of sleep, lots of hormones, and the pain of breastfeeding. Part of me became very sad, I yearned for that breastfeeding “bond” that I had heard so much about. Instead, I had to pray to God to take away my negative thoughts every night and to give me endurance and perseverance, I didn’t see the pain having an end in sight and I couldn’t believe how unfair it was. I felt like I had been robbed of such a beautiful experience. I had my doula come and she recommended me to Luna Lactation. I paid for the lactation consultant to come and she was incredible. She brought her own baby scale, and did thorough exams of both Juliette and I. She helped me nurse her in different positions and watched her latch. She discovered very quickly that Juliette was tongue tie pretty severely, and lip tied as well. It caused her to not be able to open her mouth all the way. My baby was doing her best to nurse properly but she literally couldn’t. The LC referred us to an ENT in portland and he clipped her frenulum. It was a quick laser procedure, and she only cried until she was back in my arms. Then we had to stretch her upper lip and under her tongue four times a day for 3 weeks, as well as do a few other exercises to help her learn to suck properly.

After about a week or so of healing her mouth, we decided to see a chiropractor as well for Juliette. He was a Godsend. At our first visit he did a very thorough assessment of Juliette and he did a lot of work on her jaw. It’s neat, the amount of pressure they use on a baby is next to nothing but it works wonders. I noticed an instant improvement! Juliette also had a knot in her neck and would only turn her head to one side, as well as needing adjustment in her mid-back which happened to help with her reflux. Her latch was much better, things were healing, and I was excited. But it still hurt.

The pain was like fire, and it shot from my nipple to my back/ shoulder blades. I didn’t think it was thrush because I couldn’t see any white spots in Juliette’s mouth. So the LC thought it might be Vasospasm’s due to her clamping down during my let down and recommended that I put a heating pad on my breast after feeding. I did this and it felt good, but it didn’t really help. Then, at four and half weeks postpartum,  I realized it was thrush and I was sure that we’d had it since leaving the hospital. I remembered that she had a rash that I couldn’t get rid of on her bottom, and I thought that was normal so I thought nothing of it the entire month. Until one night I put two and two together after doing my research on thrush, and realized she had a diaper rash yeast infection. She had this white crusty looking stuff in the folds of her lady parts, and I thought it looked weird but I assumed it was normal because she had had it since we got home. Nope, that was yeast. The next morning I re-checked Juliette’s mouth and she did have white spots, not big ones but they were there. I used gentian violet, laid her butt in the sun on my patio, and used my mom’s nystatin powder on the yeast and a week later at 5 and a half weeks we were healed.

The first time I nursed her and it didn’t hurt I looked at Micah and said, ” Micah something is wrong, she isn’t nursing right, it doesn’t hurt..” and when I realized what I had said I was ecstatic! It didn’t hurt. What a blessing.

Through all of that I did have moments of weakness. I would sit and hold her and cry and think how easy formula would be. I would pray and wonder why it had to be so painful and if I should stop being stubborn and just give up. I resented nursing because I knew it was going to be painful. I paid alot of money out of pocket just for the hope that nursing would be easier. The LC, ENT, and Chiropractor were all not covered by medical.

Two things got me through the hard times: 1) at 2 weeks old my baby had already gained a pound, so she was getting good nutrients from me and 2) I had so much support, I knew other women who had survived through the hard parts of breastfeeding and I knew I was strong enough, giving birth was so empowering that I just knew I couldn’t give up, I want her to have the best start in life and breastmilk is so full of nutrients and perfectly made just for her.

I have that nursing bond with my little Juliette now, it’s beautiful to feel so depended on. To know that my body can support and grow another human being inside and outside of the womb. Truly a miracle. I thank God everyday for how amazing He is. How can anyone who has experienced a life being created out of nothing and growing within themselves not believe there is a God? It’s truly His work at best.

I understand that a lot of mom’s aren’t able to breastfeed and that is perfectly fine, I support any mom who is doing the best to nurture their baby. Motherhood is beautiful, and we all do it differently but we each hold one thing that is the same. We love our babies. Everyone  has a different story to share, and I think mothers are very quick to feel judged when someone does it differently. I have a good amount of encouraging friends who are mothers, and I want to pass along the encouragement to others no matter what decisions. I want to hear about your epidural or your c-section and other things you do, and I hope you want to hear about me too. I am not ashamed of the amazing strength that becoming a mother ensues, and I don’t think anyone else should either.

I want to encourage new mom’s to breastfeed and work through the hard parts. There is so much help available and lots of people willing to be supportive. Don’t give up easy, it’s a battle, but it’s one that’s worth it.

The Water Birth of Juliette Rose

Our New Family

Right when Juliette was born, My husband about to cut the cord and the midwife helping him.

cutting the cord! still in the birthing tub, we let the cord pulse for over 60 seconds before we cut it so Juliette could get all the blood and oxygen still pulsing from the placenta.

Juliette being held skin-to-skin with her daddy while the midwife took care of me.

Me getting acquianted skin-to-skin and establishing breastfeeding for the very first time. My beautiful brand new daughter

Miss Juliette Rose Koenig on her Birthday! 7 lbs 9 Ounces born at 7:02 A.M. on May 2nd, 2013

My birth story is one that I feel is very empowering and I am still in unbelief that it is mine to share with the world. Birth is such a beautiful God given gift that I think it’s silly to view it as something we can control or take complete charge of. Every birth story is equally unique because it is the beginning of a new life, and that in itself makes birth marvelous whether c-section or not, whether at home or in the hospital, birth is breath-taking.

My story starts at 5 A.M. on May 1st when I woke up with my husband to make him breakfast before he headed off to work. I was having some small cramps and my husband told me I had to time them because earlier in the week I had had my membrane sweeped,  I’d been taking black & blue cohosh and I’d already lost my mucous plug. I was really unsure if they were contractions or not and I didn’t want to get myself all excited just incase it was false labor, but I timed them anyways. The small pre-labor contractions were consistently 7-10 minutes apart that entire day. The way I would describe these contractions was familiar, like period cramps I’ve had ever since I started having my period as a little girl. The only difference was that they weren’t in the small of my back like period cramps, they were beneath my belly button and literally inside my belly. My day was normal, These contractions didn’t take my breath away or make me incapable of talking. My mom came over to visit on this day and brought my little brother and they never even noticed I was having contractions because I could hide it pretty well. I also went on a walk with a good friend and had dinner like normal. I knew I was heading towards real labor because my doula suggested that I take a hot shower and drink a glass of wine with dinner to see if the contractions subsided, and they didn’t. They stayed consistently 7-10 minutes apart.

Night time came and we decided to go to bed around 1030 ish in case my husband had to go to work the next day because we had no idea when labor would hit. I didn’t really go to sleep, I lay there timing contractions because I was just too excited hoping that I would soon see my sweet baby and wondering what labor would really entail. I didn’t sleep one bit.

1:30 A.M. I felt a gush of fluid and jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, in shock and disbelief I just stood there for a minute looking at the fluid gushing down my legs, amazed that this could really be happening. All through my pregnancy I’d heard that most women don’t have their water break and that chances are very slim, it really only happens in movies. Yet there I stood, water was definitely broken! Here’s the good part, I yelled for my husband then waited for him to jump or run over to me in the bathroom, really just for any response. I look in the bedroom and say it again, “Micah my WATER BROKE!!”. His response, “That’s nice, I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything, you should just come back to bed it’s too soon to worry about that.” HA! what a cute husband. After yelling at him to get the heck out of bed, we called our doula and she headed over. At this point my contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and getting much more painful. I remember getting on my hands and knees on the couch and feeling stuck, my body was taking over and all I could do was let the contractions happen. The moments in between contractions were very clear, and I could talk then, but during the contractions I needed a hand to hold, and my husbands shoulder to lean on. With each contraction I had to search for an inner strength, something inside me that reminded me that I could do this. I remember thinking about my bradley class often and the things I had learned. I would tell myself to make deep and low sounds because that pushes baby downward while high and loud sounds would keep her up.

Before my doula got there I had decided I needed to go to the hospital and that it was time to leave. MIcah was very reassuring and encouraged me that we could wait until our doula made it here and even though I really wanted to leave right that second, I was able to put my trust into micah and wait. When our doula (Pita) got there we instantly left. I remember thinking before pita arrived how I needed to seem strong, but when she got there it was such a relief to have someone who knew so much about birth that with my first contraction I just fell onto her. literally. She helped me down the stairs, all three flights mind you, and into the car. Ugh the car! One of the worst parts, So uncomfortable! I reclined back and laid on my side, but it still felt like the longest car ride ever even though it was barely ten minutes!

We arrived at the hospital at 3 A.M. and went into our birthing room immediately, I was admitted and was already 4cm dilated. I had to be hooked up to the NST so they could monitor the baby for 20 minutes as a routine procedure, only my baby felt the need to move away from the monitor so that it would take longer. The nurse had me laying on my back on the table which was awful!! My contractions were every minute and a half because of it! So painful, and at the same time there was a nurse/phlebotomist lady trying to put in my I.V. and I had to focus on keeping my arm still during contractions! I swear it felt like it took her a half-hour to get the I.V. in, and she missed my vein the first try! That was frustrating. When the NST monitors weren’t working Pita had me get on my hands and knees on the table and she pushed the monitor closer to my belly and finally we got a good reading so I could be unhooked.

At this point I just wanted in the dang water. But the nurses had me go to the bathroom first while they prepared the tub, we had a brand new room with a jacuzzi type built in tub instead of a blow up birthing tub. MIcah stayed with me in the bathroom, I remember snapping at micah a few times, not because he did anything wrong, but mostly because it was really hard to communicate what I needed during contractions. I kept making him go out and check if the tub was ready and he was probably driving the nurses nuts, but he was a great husband and I know I couldn’t have done it without him. The timing was perfect and my antibiotics were done when the tub was all ready for me. I had to be on antibiotics which took 20 minutes every 4 hours I was in labor due to being Group B Strep positive. It’s nothing serious but the hospital has to be cautious and likes you to have atleast 2 doses of antibiotics while in labor just to be safe so you don’t pass it on to your baby, I only had one dose, and because of that we had to stay 48 hours instead of just 24.

Now the tub was ready, and it was time to really get things moving. At this point I had no sense of time or how long/ not long things were taking. The tub was miraculous, I was on my knees with hands over the edge holding onto micah nearly the entire time, while Pita poured warm water down my back. Occasionally micah would give me some ice chips or cold water, and we had some relaxing worship music playing.

The room was calm and quiet for most of the labor, besides the occasional nurse needing to check the baby’s heart beat with the doppler. The contractions came and went, and in between I could still talk, I remember asking pita lots of questions and even smiling and laughing occasionally in the in-between.

I felt strong. Brave and beautiful, and completely amazed by how God had designed me. There’s a point in labor called transition where some women give up and ask for pain meds, or when they really get angry/nasty and just can’t handle it anymore, that’s the point right before pushing. MIcah didn’t realize when I went through transition, I never once changed my attitude or wanted to give up, I believed in my body every moment of the way. My transition as pita said was a point where I was uncontrollably shaking, and I thought it was because I was freezing. I kept asking for more hot water and I remember shaking a lot. I think this is when my legs went numb and I had to lay back in the tub to regain circulation. I was probably sitting on my knees for a couple of hours at that point. I laid back and my midwife, Donna, came in and I asked her if she would check how far along I was. I was 9cm with a small lip! She said I could start pushing! I was amazed and couldn’t believe it. Pita had me get back up on my hands and knees knowing that as soon as I did I would fully dilate. I remember trying to push but not really knowing how, and during one contraction I could hear Donna’s voice saying, “Hold your breath, don’t make any noise, and push down.” The other most memorable thing during my earlier contractions was hearing my doula (mind you my eyes were closed typically during contractions) say, ” Don’t fight your body, let it go, relax and trust your body.” The smallest words of encouragement honestly made a world of difference.

So pushing. It was incredible. The most memorable experience of my life, more so than being on the eiffel tower, or traveling to Haiti, or even Disneyland. Being a part of the beginning of life was so beautiful and incredible. I felt every time she moved down. I could feel her inside me moving downwards. In between pushes sometimes I would just sit there and say, “wow” over and over because it was all so breath-taking. Pushing was hard work, and I almost got really discouraged. I kept checking to see if I could feel her head, and I couldn’t yet and each time I got a little more discouraged, but at the same time it just made me want to push harder and more effective. I remember being exhausted, and there was no talking in between pushes, I kept my eyes closed and would rest my head on the side of the tub. I don’t know what was going on around me, I remember I could see the sun coming up through the curtains, and that was a butt load of nurses in the room, micah told me later that it was shift change, but I was inside myself.

Pushing was carnal. It was the closest to animal instincts that I could have possibly every felt. Once my midwife told me how to push, I was lost inside myself feeling every moment. I can remember every centimeter, every feeling. When I first felt her head, I was so excited! I remember yelling out that I could feel her! It was such a rush that I pushed as best as I could at this point, once the soft part of her head was out, then it became a bit difficult and definitely the most painful part. I don’t know that I would really call it the ring of fire, it didn’t feel like that for me. I would say it felt like every inch of her face was scraping inside me, I could feel the eyebrow bones, the nose, chin etc. and that hurt! but it was incredible, I could feel my daughters face, it was all so real and so raw. once her head was out, the rest came out in one more easy push! MY DAUGHTER WAS ALIVE AND BORN!

7:02 A.M. and my daughter was in my arms! My husband was tearing up at this point, and I was just ecstatic! I kept saying, “my baby! my baby!! oh my gosh my baby is here!” and holding her on my stomach, it was amazing, she was so beautiful, her cord could only reach to my stomach, but that was ok! That’s when I became a mother. I did it. No pain meds, in the water, at the hospital. I did it.

I’ll cherish this moment in my heart forever, it was so incredible. I hope more people can experience birth this way. A lot of people doubted my ability to do things natural, especially at the hospital, but I never once doubted myself. I spent alot of time preparing for a natural birth, praying and becoming more educated about birth. I would love one day to become an advocate of some sort of natural birth, a doula or midwife.