That rosy, content, face of a newly fed baby rests on my lap while I type. We welcomed little Israel, 6 lbs, 14 oz. this past November 18th, born in my bedroom at 2 minutes past noon. Surrounded by 2 dear midwives, my husband at my side, my 7 year old daughter and her "sibling support", 16 year old
Amy. There is no comparable feeling of relief than when you've just birthed a baby. What an extreme emotional sensation I shared with the 100's of 1000's of other women who also birthed on this day across the world. Going from that intense war physically, mentally and emotionally to it being over...over...over, and this healthy baby resting on my abdomen, chord still pulsating, the midwife is giving him a massage seconds after he is born. I greet him, laughing, crying seconds before, now laughing, welcoming him, and minutes later he has his first breastfeed.
He nurses like a pro. Like he's been practicing this for many months. It's hard to believe that this little one, my smallest of my 4 babies, was my hardest homebirth so far. My waters, with my first 3 did not break without the help of a midwife just prior to baby being born or while I was pushing baby out. I had always wondered what it would have been like to start labour with the breaking of my membranes. Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it. And now that I've experienced it, I don't recommend it.
It was my due date, Thursday November 17th, and my excited Selah, 7, had been saying all day, "I hope it's tonight, God, please let it be tonight". I gently reminded Selah, that I usually start labouring in the morning, and that that is more convenient than labouring all night. But as chance would have it, that evening, it was between 7 and 8pm when I realized, with one hard contraction that my waters had broken. By 8:00 I texted my husband, who was at a church meeting. My midwife had told me to give her a heads up, when contractions were 10 minutes apart, so I did. She'd come over when contractions got to 5 minutes apart. Rene stayed for the meeting, because contractions were not close enough together for him to come rushing home.
My husband and Amy arrived about 10ish. The midwives both showed up somewhere around 11pm. And my contractions were all over the place, without consistency, yet more intense than I had ever felt before. By midnight I was sure I was in transition, and felt like pushing. I'm told that with posterior babies, that's how it is - you just feel some relief with pushing far earlier than it's time to push. Only one of my babies was actually born posterior, but the other 3, I am sure I also laboured with them in posterior position, because of the back labour. When my midwife checked to see if it was indeed time to push Israel, she said, Nope, that his head is not in the right place and I was far from fully dilated. I was shocked. I should know by now the sensation of transition - the "I can't do this anymore", "I'm done". This continued for another 10 hours. Exhausted by morning, my husband and midwives talked about the 18 hour antibiotics, 24 hr. mark induction at the hospital and choices as such.
When I heard, I marched to my room, and said out loud to myself "I'm having this baby by noon!" Not that I'm against hospitals, many women have wonderful experiences, but I knew I was a prime candidate for intervention, with the membranes rupturing before labour, dysfunctional labour, primed for induction, and I was hardly managing as it was. I had a little cry, called up 2 like minded Mama friends, who prayed with me over the phone. Following that, on my midwifes recommendation I took the lemon verbena cocktail at around 10am. The contractions picked up a little, especially in intensity, but not in consistency. My brilliant husband called our
Chiropractor. We were desperate, and he would do a house call. If I've ever been on the fence about chiropractors - I am NOT anymore. What I experienced was amazing. I don't typically enjoy adjustments - I just know it's good for our immune system and that it is preventative. Immediately after the adjustment to my sacroiliac, lower spine, neck and lower spine again, I felt a surge of fresh energy. My husband said, "let's use that, and don't sit down". So staying vertical, contractions immediately became back to back, and endorphins were finally kicking in to manage those contractions. Just 45 minutes after that adjustment, Israel was born.
Is there any other time in a woman's life where she feels as savage and ungraceful as when she is pushing a baby out? It is not the time to worry about what you look like. As baby's head was crowning his heart rate plummeted and my midwife said loudly and firmly that I needed to push the baby out now (which I had never experienced with my previous 3 births). With my pushing history, this was going to be interesting. But I was on the home lap, sprinting to the finish line, and with all the power I could muster, he came out with the chord bunched up on his shoulder, causing the drop in heart rate. And he is beautiful, healthy and strong. His name is Israel Chets (pronounced Sh-ay). He has a 2 year old mother who dotes on him all the time, a 7 year old mother who truly is a great help to this mother, while his brother, is eager to show him his tribal fighting dance!
