What is more precious than new life? More beautiful than that perfect, peaceful smile of a newborn child? I'm not sure what it is, but the wonder of it all never wears off. If anything, I am more in awe of the miracle of birth with each one.
I really had never considered home birth. Never thought of it or even realized it was still practiced in this advanced age of modern medicine. I just assumed, that like all other mother's that I knew, my children's births would take place in a hospital. But upon meeting my future mother-in-law, that assumption was to change. She had had six children, the last two of which were born at home. When I realized that was an option, I was entranced. I had a strong dislike for hospitals in general and the idea of birthing my babies there never did bode well with me.
I really had never considered home birth. Never thought of it or even realized it was still practiced in this advanced age of modern medicine. I just assumed, that like all other mother's that I knew, my children's births would take place in a hospital. But upon meeting my future mother-in-law, that assumption was to change. She had had six children, the last two of which were born at home. When I realized that was an option, I was entranced. I had a strong dislike for hospitals in general and the idea of birthing my babies there never did bode well with me.
baby #1 -May 30, 2005 -Rian Elizabeth
Well we had only been married for three months when I delightedly became pregnant with my first. And that is when my research of home birth began in earnest. Before I go on, I should give a little disclaimer. This blog is in no way a push for home birth viruses hospital birth. My oldest sister, who is now also a doula, encouraged me to put my stories down before I forgot the beautiful little details. So I decided to share it here for anyone who is interested. I'll be the first to say that it is important to give birth in a place where you are most comfortable. So if that place is the hospital or a birthing center, then by all means, have your baby there. For me, my home was that place. But whatever place you decide upon, be sure to have done your research. And so my research began...
I read anything I could get my hands on in connection with home birth and midwifery. I was enraptured with the accounts of Ina May Gaskin, a modern pioneer of midwifery. Grantly Dick-Read's book 'Childbirth Without Fear' revolutionized my thinking. 'Giving Birth The Easy Way By Someone Who Did It The Hard Way' gave me a first-hand account of birth from cesarian section to a solo home birth. It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that home birth was the right option for me. So after arming myself with all the preparations from diet, home birth classes, supplies, and all the eagerness of a waiting mamma-to-be, I was ready.
My pregnancy was beautiful and mostly uneventful. Yes, I had morning sickness (or should I say all day sickness) for the first trimester and had some trouble gaining weight at first. I did start out by loosing five pounds those first few months, but eventually managed to gain them back plus 16 more by the end of the pregnancy. But the morning sickness was a sign of a good pregnancy, and so I embraced it. Not having any little people to care for other than the precious, squirmy little life inside of me, I was able to get plenty of rest and exercise. I didn't realize how beautiful and easy of a pregnancy it was until the next ones when I had little ones around my feet.
Two weeks before my due date, I marched in a parade. I was confused by everyone's reaction. People seemed so worried about me and couldn't believe I actually wanted to do it. But I felt great! The march didn't even phase me. However, looking back, I can't believe I did it either! There is definitely no way I would have wanted to or even have been able to with any of my subsequent pregnancies.
I had some false labor that week, which I've come to discover is pretty typical for me. I walked and walked begging the contractions to increase...but to my disapointment, they eventually faded away several hours later.
The following week, exactly seven days before my due date, it happened. I had just been asleep for about half an hour when I woke up with a contraction. After having had the false labor, I tried not to get my hopes up, but not to fear. I had called my doula sister unsure of whether or not it was the real thing, trying to decide if she should start on the five hour trip down from Ontario, Canada. But the decision was quickly made for both of us when my water suddenly broke. There was no way she could make it in time and yes I was truly in labor.
My husband, Colin, quickly called the midwife, his mother and his two teenage sisters. While we were waiting for everyone to arrive, I needed to use the restroom and noticed some meconium staining. I knew that wasn't a great sign, but wasn't to worried about it. When the midwife arrived, I casually mentioned the meconium to her to get her take on it. She didn't let on much, but she quickly took on a more serious, all-business manner and asked to check me right away. She checked me, and nodded, confirming what she had already supposed. The baby was breech. Then with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she teased that she already knew the gender.
The next few moments were calm and practical as we discussed our options. A hospital delivery would be a guaranteed c-section seeing as the baby was to far down to have much luck with trying to get it to turn. But a home-birth was still an option. My midwife had delivered quite a few breech babies before and felt that our baby was in a very good position. Without feeling any apprehension, I matter-of-factly stated I still wanted to have this baby at home.
Once the decision had been made, things took on a rhythmic pattern of me climbing stairs between contractions and Colin doing counter pressure on my hips during contractions while I leaned over a birthing ball. During one contraction, my midwife noticed a catch in my breathing and said it was time to get in an optimal positon for delivering a breech baby. Everyone got me comfortable on the edge of my bed with my feet propped up and she hadn't noticed any to soon. The very next contraction I was bearing down.
Someone held a mirror up for me and I could see a smooshed little baby bottom making an entrance. The little bottom crowned then popped out into the world. It's a girl!!! Our midwife delicately hooked her finger around one little leg and maneuvered it out, followed by the other. The rest of her little torso slipped out and all that was left inside of me was her head. Then again the midwife slipped in her long thin finger, and hooked the tip in our daughter's little mouth to pull her chin to her chest so that she wouldn't get caught on my cervix. The midwife chuckled and announced that our baby was sucking on her finger. Then with the next contraction, with the midwife keeping the baby's head to her chest, I pushed the rest our daughter into the world.
Rian Elizabeth Cunningham was 6lbs. 6ozs. and 19 1/2" long. At the time, I thought that the fact that she was so slender made her breech birth so easy, but several births later I would discover that fat breech babies can be born vaginally just as well.
I read anything I could get my hands on in connection with home birth and midwifery. I was enraptured with the accounts of Ina May Gaskin, a modern pioneer of midwifery. Grantly Dick-Read's book 'Childbirth Without Fear' revolutionized my thinking. 'Giving Birth The Easy Way By Someone Who Did It The Hard Way' gave me a first-hand account of birth from cesarian section to a solo home birth. It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that home birth was the right option for me. So after arming myself with all the preparations from diet, home birth classes, supplies, and all the eagerness of a waiting mamma-to-be, I was ready.
My pregnancy was beautiful and mostly uneventful. Yes, I had morning sickness (or should I say all day sickness) for the first trimester and had some trouble gaining weight at first. I did start out by loosing five pounds those first few months, but eventually managed to gain them back plus 16 more by the end of the pregnancy. But the morning sickness was a sign of a good pregnancy, and so I embraced it. Not having any little people to care for other than the precious, squirmy little life inside of me, I was able to get plenty of rest and exercise. I didn't realize how beautiful and easy of a pregnancy it was until the next ones when I had little ones around my feet.
Two weeks before my due date, I marched in a parade. I was confused by everyone's reaction. People seemed so worried about me and couldn't believe I actually wanted to do it. But I felt great! The march didn't even phase me. However, looking back, I can't believe I did it either! There is definitely no way I would have wanted to or even have been able to with any of my subsequent pregnancies.
I had some false labor that week, which I've come to discover is pretty typical for me. I walked and walked begging the contractions to increase...but to my disapointment, they eventually faded away several hours later.
The following week, exactly seven days before my due date, it happened. I had just been asleep for about half an hour when I woke up with a contraction. After having had the false labor, I tried not to get my hopes up, but not to fear. I had called my doula sister unsure of whether or not it was the real thing, trying to decide if she should start on the five hour trip down from Ontario, Canada. But the decision was quickly made for both of us when my water suddenly broke. There was no way she could make it in time and yes I was truly in labor.
My husband, Colin, quickly called the midwife, his mother and his two teenage sisters. While we were waiting for everyone to arrive, I needed to use the restroom and noticed some meconium staining. I knew that wasn't a great sign, but wasn't to worried about it. When the midwife arrived, I casually mentioned the meconium to her to get her take on it. She didn't let on much, but she quickly took on a more serious, all-business manner and asked to check me right away. She checked me, and nodded, confirming what she had already supposed. The baby was breech. Then with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she teased that she already knew the gender.
The next few moments were calm and practical as we discussed our options. A hospital delivery would be a guaranteed c-section seeing as the baby was to far down to have much luck with trying to get it to turn. But a home-birth was still an option. My midwife had delivered quite a few breech babies before and felt that our baby was in a very good position. Without feeling any apprehension, I matter-of-factly stated I still wanted to have this baby at home.
Once the decision had been made, things took on a rhythmic pattern of me climbing stairs between contractions and Colin doing counter pressure on my hips during contractions while I leaned over a birthing ball. During one contraction, my midwife noticed a catch in my breathing and said it was time to get in an optimal positon for delivering a breech baby. Everyone got me comfortable on the edge of my bed with my feet propped up and she hadn't noticed any to soon. The very next contraction I was bearing down.
Someone held a mirror up for me and I could see a smooshed little baby bottom making an entrance. The little bottom crowned then popped out into the world. It's a girl!!! Our midwife delicately hooked her finger around one little leg and maneuvered it out, followed by the other. The rest of her little torso slipped out and all that was left inside of me was her head. Then again the midwife slipped in her long thin finger, and hooked the tip in our daughter's little mouth to pull her chin to her chest so that she wouldn't get caught on my cervix. The midwife chuckled and announced that our baby was sucking on her finger. Then with the next contraction, with the midwife keeping the baby's head to her chest, I pushed the rest our daughter into the world.
Rian Elizabeth Cunningham was 6lbs. 6ozs. and 19 1/2" long. At the time, I thought that the fact that she was so slender made her breech birth so easy, but several births later I would discover that fat breech babies can be born vaginally just as well.
Rian at 17 months old... holding her new baby sister... sister love... (I didn't have a digital camera when Rian was born and haven't scanned any early pictures of her yet, so these are the earliest that I have of her on my computer.)
baby #2 -October 31, 2006 -Areah November
I was already wanting to be pregnant again not much later. In fact, one of the first things I said after Rian's birth was that I wanted to have another one! Crazy I know, but that's just me. I wanted a lot of kids and I wanted them close together. And after that incredible birth experience all I could think of was doing it again. But somehow I managed to wait until Rian was eight months old before I got pregnant.
Colin and I both were intrigued with the idea of a solo home birth. He was quite a bit more eager to try it than I was though. So we came to a compromise. We wouldn't tell anyone that I was in labor until my water broke, and even then we would only call the midwife. I figured this would still allow plenty of time for the midwife to arrive. I loved the idea of going completely solo, but thought that at least having the midwife notified and on her way would be sensible.
Well, this pregnancy was a little different than the last. The morning sickness was more severe, I had sciatica in both my legs, and struggled with low blood pressure. I had lost 10 lbs. at the beginning of the pregnancy, and even though I later gain them back plus 15, I lost another 5 lbs in the last month for a total of just 10 lbs. gained total. At 34 weeks, the baby dropped and I was already 90% effaced. At 35 weeks, my nausea had retuned, I couldn't sleep for more than 10 minutes at a time (which made for terribly long and exhausting nights), and was experiencing such extreme dizziness that I couldn't even sit upright. I went to a homeopathic doctor and they said I just had very low blood pressure. A week later, I was still feeling awful, so went to the hospital to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong with me or the baby. They ran several tests, including doing an ultrasound and found nothing wrong with either of us, but informed me that I was already 3 cm. dilated. The next week was more of the same and I didn't know how I could go into a labor feeling as exhausted as I did. But by 38 weeks I started to feel normal again and was finally able to sleep. I enjoyed a full week of good health before I finally went into labor at 39 weeks, again exactly 7 days before my due date.
I had only been asleep for less than an hour when I woke up with the first contraction. I looked at the clock, it was 11:10. My contractions were close to five minutes apart already, but knew there was no way I was having the baby that day. But I so really did not want to have the baby after midnight, ....because it would be Halloween. There was no denying that I was in labor though, so I silently began preparing everything for the birth. I boiled a shoelace and my haircutting succors in a pot of water then popped the lid on the keep them sterile. I pulled the birthday cake out of the freezer and had it on the counter defrosting. I put the coffee on and made sure our midwife's favorite drink, Dr. Pepper, was in the fridge chilling. All the while I would pause every few minutes to lean against the kitchen counter to moan and sway through the next contraction.
I finally moved upstairs and began laying out all the birthing supplies in our bedroom. I had been waiting to do this last because I didn't want to wake Colin any earlier than necessary. His over exuberance from the last birth was still fresh in my mind and I was enjoying the quiet of the house. But even though I had laid everything out without waking him, he heard a moan that escaped my lips during one of my contractions. Here, the man who never hears thunder storms or screaming babies in the night, was now instantly awake.
He decided he needed to do a little preparation of his own and brewed me a pot Red Raspberry Leaf Tea, meanwhile I fetched the mop and bucket. I wanted to give the floor one last good cleaning before the new baby came. He sat at the dinning room table sipping coffee while I mopped, pausing every few minutes to sway with the mop as I moaned through yet another contraction. At around 12:30 I looked at him with fear in my eyes. "This really, really hurts! I don't know if I can do this much longer!" He was so much calmer this time around. "Don't worry," was his even reply, "you're just going through transition, so it won't be much longer now." He was right. Just a few contractions later my head jerked up at him. My water had broken. It was time to call the midwife.
He grabbed the phone and I told him that I thought I might throw up, so I headed up to use the bathroom. But when I got up there, I had a strong compulsion to sit on the toilet instead. When the next contraction came, I hollered down to him, "I'm PUSHING!" He bounded up the steps two at a time, all the while keeping the midwife up to speed over the phone. "She says she's pushing and she's on the toilet!" I could hear him saying. The midwife's quick response was, "Well, you'd better get her off the toilet!" He set the phone down long enough to grab me under my armpits and practically drag me across the hall to the bedroom as I was pretty much immobilized. Not wanting to tear, I told him to run and get some oil to rub on my perineum. He ran to the massage room next door and grab some of his cinnamon scented massage oil. He came back barely in time to splash some oil on the baby's crowning head as it popped out so quickly it rendered the oil unnecessary but gave the baby a wonderfully smelling head for the next few days. I then calmly said to Colin, "I think I'll just wait until the next contraction to push the rest of the baby out." Colin laughed at the funny scrunched up face the baby was making as it was exposed to air for the first time. Then the very next contraction, I push a very slippery little girl slid out into Colin's hands.
We sat and reviled in the beauty of the moment. We had gotten our solo birth after all. After waiting for the cord to stop pulsing, we tied the shoelace around it in two places and cut the cord. Then I sat back and nursed my sweet new Halloween baby, Areah November Cunningham, as we waited for the midwife to arrive. She was 5 lbs. 10 oz. and only 17 inches long.
Colin and I both were intrigued with the idea of a solo home birth. He was quite a bit more eager to try it than I was though. So we came to a compromise. We wouldn't tell anyone that I was in labor until my water broke, and even then we would only call the midwife. I figured this would still allow plenty of time for the midwife to arrive. I loved the idea of going completely solo, but thought that at least having the midwife notified and on her way would be sensible.
Well, this pregnancy was a little different than the last. The morning sickness was more severe, I had sciatica in both my legs, and struggled with low blood pressure. I had lost 10 lbs. at the beginning of the pregnancy, and even though I later gain them back plus 15, I lost another 5 lbs in the last month for a total of just 10 lbs. gained total. At 34 weeks, the baby dropped and I was already 90% effaced. At 35 weeks, my nausea had retuned, I couldn't sleep for more than 10 minutes at a time (which made for terribly long and exhausting nights), and was experiencing such extreme dizziness that I couldn't even sit upright. I went to a homeopathic doctor and they said I just had very low blood pressure. A week later, I was still feeling awful, so went to the hospital to make sure there was nothing seriously wrong with me or the baby. They ran several tests, including doing an ultrasound and found nothing wrong with either of us, but informed me that I was already 3 cm. dilated. The next week was more of the same and I didn't know how I could go into a labor feeling as exhausted as I did. But by 38 weeks I started to feel normal again and was finally able to sleep. I enjoyed a full week of good health before I finally went into labor at 39 weeks, again exactly 7 days before my due date.
I had only been asleep for less than an hour when I woke up with the first contraction. I looked at the clock, it was 11:10. My contractions were close to five minutes apart already, but knew there was no way I was having the baby that day. But I so really did not want to have the baby after midnight, ....because it would be Halloween. There was no denying that I was in labor though, so I silently began preparing everything for the birth. I boiled a shoelace and my haircutting succors in a pot of water then popped the lid on the keep them sterile. I pulled the birthday cake out of the freezer and had it on the counter defrosting. I put the coffee on and made sure our midwife's favorite drink, Dr. Pepper, was in the fridge chilling. All the while I would pause every few minutes to lean against the kitchen counter to moan and sway through the next contraction.
I finally moved upstairs and began laying out all the birthing supplies in our bedroom. I had been waiting to do this last because I didn't want to wake Colin any earlier than necessary. His over exuberance from the last birth was still fresh in my mind and I was enjoying the quiet of the house. But even though I had laid everything out without waking him, he heard a moan that escaped my lips during one of my contractions. Here, the man who never hears thunder storms or screaming babies in the night, was now instantly awake.
He decided he needed to do a little preparation of his own and brewed me a pot Red Raspberry Leaf Tea, meanwhile I fetched the mop and bucket. I wanted to give the floor one last good cleaning before the new baby came. He sat at the dinning room table sipping coffee while I mopped, pausing every few minutes to sway with the mop as I moaned through yet another contraction. At around 12:30 I looked at him with fear in my eyes. "This really, really hurts! I don't know if I can do this much longer!" He was so much calmer this time around. "Don't worry," was his even reply, "you're just going through transition, so it won't be much longer now." He was right. Just a few contractions later my head jerked up at him. My water had broken. It was time to call the midwife.
He grabbed the phone and I told him that I thought I might throw up, so I headed up to use the bathroom. But when I got up there, I had a strong compulsion to sit on the toilet instead. When the next contraction came, I hollered down to him, "I'm PUSHING!" He bounded up the steps two at a time, all the while keeping the midwife up to speed over the phone. "She says she's pushing and she's on the toilet!" I could hear him saying. The midwife's quick response was, "Well, you'd better get her off the toilet!" He set the phone down long enough to grab me under my armpits and practically drag me across the hall to the bedroom as I was pretty much immobilized. Not wanting to tear, I told him to run and get some oil to rub on my perineum. He ran to the massage room next door and grab some of his cinnamon scented massage oil. He came back barely in time to splash some oil on the baby's crowning head as it popped out so quickly it rendered the oil unnecessary but gave the baby a wonderfully smelling head for the next few days. I then calmly said to Colin, "I think I'll just wait until the next contraction to push the rest of the baby out." Colin laughed at the funny scrunched up face the baby was making as it was exposed to air for the first time. Then the very next contraction, I push a very slippery little girl slid out into Colin's hands.
We sat and reviled in the beauty of the moment. We had gotten our solo birth after all. After waiting for the cord to stop pulsing, we tied the shoelace around it in two places and cut the cord. Then I sat back and nursed my sweet new Halloween baby, Areah November Cunningham, as we waited for the midwife to arrive. She was 5 lbs. 10 oz. and only 17 inches long.
minutes old... wearing preemie clothes for a week... 5 days old and 1st day to church...
baby #3 -October 6, 2008 -Kurin Josephine
This mommy business was really agreeing with me, and I was excited at the prospect of having more. This time we spaced them out a little more, but not a whole lot. I am the middle child of five girls, but a very, very middle child. My older sisters are 4 & 5 years older than me and my younger sisters are 8 & 10 years younger. So growing up, I played mostly alone. But I didn't want that for my children. In my mind the more the merrier and close enough to be best friends for life. So I was pregnant with #3 and due three weeks before Areah's (#2) 2nd birthday.
This pregnancy went a lot better for me. I quickly discovered that anything creamy, white and carby helped alleviate my morning sickness and so for the first time, I actually gained weight instead of loosing during the first trimester. My second and third trimesters were fantastic apart from the typical ailments of pregnancy, so I worked tirelessly in the yard on my landscaping project.
Having had two babies exactly 7 days early, I had very high hopes that I would do it again this time. My youngest sister had come down from Canada to help out and so we would go for walks every day hoping to get this baby to budge. But no, this little bundle decided it liked to snuggle.
The day before I was due, I started having some contractions at around 5 p.m. and I became very hopeful. Colin and I tried walking up and down the sidewalk in front of our house for a few hours, but shortly before midnight everything fizzled out and we figured we should just get some sleep. I was only asleep for a few hours when a particularly strong baby squeeze woke me. It was hard to suppress the excitement bubbling up in me as I waited for a few more contractions to be sure it was the real thing. When I was certain, I swung into action, going through my routine of laying out birthing supplies, baby clothes, setting the birthday cake out to defrost, and making coffee while Colin got on the phone to make sure everyone was informed who wanted to be at the birth. After our last solo experience, we had a lot of unhappy people who had felt jipped at not getting to witness yet another home birth. I joked that we should have sold tickets to the event and made a little money!
Not long after, my brother-in-law, Ian, dropped off my two younger sisters, Debra and Clara. Colin's mom, Becky, and his youngest sister, Heidi, had also arrived. The coffee was still brewing and Ian decided to have a seat in the living room while he waited for the pot to finish so he could grab a cup for the drive home. I was working through my contractions in the kitchen, pausing to lean on the kitchen counter while Colin did counter pressure on my hips to help with the pain. I tend to labor rather quietly and Ian figured that seeing as there was no yelling going on and the atmosphere was serene and peaceful, birth must not be anywhere imminent. But quite the opposite was true. I knew I was getting really close and I looked up at Colin's mom with desperation in my eyes and said, "I don't want to be rude, but Ian has got to leave or he will be trapped in the house while I'm giving birth." She quickly took care of the situation and told him he needed to head out, but I remember him walking past me looking a little upset and complaining that he hadn't even gotten his coffee yet. At around 3:30, less than 10 minutes after Ian had left I announced that we were having a baby. I leaned over the birthing ball in the living room and a couple of pushes later an adorable, fat, squishy, baby girl (with a big head) burst into the world! Kurin Josephine Cunningham was 7 lbs. exactly and 19 1/2 inches long.
This pregnancy went a lot better for me. I quickly discovered that anything creamy, white and carby helped alleviate my morning sickness and so for the first time, I actually gained weight instead of loosing during the first trimester. My second and third trimesters were fantastic apart from the typical ailments of pregnancy, so I worked tirelessly in the yard on my landscaping project.
Having had two babies exactly 7 days early, I had very high hopes that I would do it again this time. My youngest sister had come down from Canada to help out and so we would go for walks every day hoping to get this baby to budge. But no, this little bundle decided it liked to snuggle.
The day before I was due, I started having some contractions at around 5 p.m. and I became very hopeful. Colin and I tried walking up and down the sidewalk in front of our house for a few hours, but shortly before midnight everything fizzled out and we figured we should just get some sleep. I was only asleep for a few hours when a particularly strong baby squeeze woke me. It was hard to suppress the excitement bubbling up in me as I waited for a few more contractions to be sure it was the real thing. When I was certain, I swung into action, going through my routine of laying out birthing supplies, baby clothes, setting the birthday cake out to defrost, and making coffee while Colin got on the phone to make sure everyone was informed who wanted to be at the birth. After our last solo experience, we had a lot of unhappy people who had felt jipped at not getting to witness yet another home birth. I joked that we should have sold tickets to the event and made a little money!
Not long after, my brother-in-law, Ian, dropped off my two younger sisters, Debra and Clara. Colin's mom, Becky, and his youngest sister, Heidi, had also arrived. The coffee was still brewing and Ian decided to have a seat in the living room while he waited for the pot to finish so he could grab a cup for the drive home. I was working through my contractions in the kitchen, pausing to lean on the kitchen counter while Colin did counter pressure on my hips to help with the pain. I tend to labor rather quietly and Ian figured that seeing as there was no yelling going on and the atmosphere was serene and peaceful, birth must not be anywhere imminent. But quite the opposite was true. I knew I was getting really close and I looked up at Colin's mom with desperation in my eyes and said, "I don't want to be rude, but Ian has got to leave or he will be trapped in the house while I'm giving birth." She quickly took care of the situation and told him he needed to head out, but I remember him walking past me looking a little upset and complaining that he hadn't even gotten his coffee yet. At around 3:30, less than 10 minutes after Ian had left I announced that we were having a baby. I leaned over the birthing ball in the living room and a couple of pushes later an adorable, fat, squishy, baby girl (with a big head) burst into the world! Kurin Josephine Cunningham was 7 lbs. exactly and 19 1/2 inches long.
5 days old... in the loving care of our sweet midwife... the infamous Uncle Ian (a.k.a. coffee lover)
minutes old... very brand new and in the arms of a big sister snuggle time 5 days old
baby #4 -June 10, 2010 -Liam James-Henry
My mom had come down from Manitoba, Canada to be with me for baby #4. But you know what they say about a watched pot never boiling. I typically have a lot of contractions the last few weeks before my due date. And often they can be quite intense, even to the point where I have thought I was in labor. So every time I would have a contraction (which could be a few times an hour), my poor, worried mother would be very concerned that I was in labor and that we should be doing something. I tried my best not to let on whenever I was having a contraction, but she watched me like a hawk. After several days like this, I thought I was never going to go into labor.
One evening, my sister Debra and her husband Ian came over for the evening to hang out. Shortly after we had gotten the kids to bed, Debra, who was a couple of months pregnant herself, came rushing down from the bathroom with the dreaded news that she was spotting. Suddenly, all the attention was off of me and onto my sister. Everyone was worried, crying, or praying. And when the spotting seemed to worsen my mom asked me if I would mind if she went home with Debra and Ian, and stayed with them for a few days to take care of her. She was so anxious because she felt both her daughters needed her, one with an imminent birth and the other with a potential for miscarriage. I told her I didn't mind, so feeling that Debra's need was more pressing, she packed her suitcase and they were off.
As soon as they left, a serene feeling came over me. Our house had this quiet, peacefulness of it being just us, that we hadn't felt in days. Colin and I were weary from it all and decided to go right to bed. But I had barely been able to get settled when steady contractions began. I allowed myself to hope just a little so instead of sleeping, we walked up and down the sidewalk in the front of our house. The contractions continued regularly, every 3-5 min. but didn't increase in intensity. Finally, around midnight, I was so exhausted we figured we may as well try to get some sleep.
I dozed right off and didn't wake again until 6am when Colin's alarm went off. Disappointment crept over me as I realized my labor had stopped. I got up with Colin, hoping that some activity might start the labor back up. Nothing. I watched him get ready for work and tried to act cheerful when all I really wanted were some good heavy contractions.
He was almost ready and about to leave when I realized there might be something going on after all. I was almost to afraid to hope or even mention anything to him. But when one after another, contractions began to follow quickly on the heels of the other, I wasn't sure if I should let him leave. We waited for a bit to see if things would intensify then he called his boss saying that he may be a little late for work. I still wasn't sure if we should bother the midwife or even start getting out the birthing supplies. Even though the contractions were getting very strong, they were a little sporadic and very much like all the false labor that I had been having off and on over the last couple of weeks. We waited a little longer, Colin with one eye on the clock trying to decided if he should leave for work, when suddenly there was no more doubt in either of our minds. This was it.
Colin called the midwife to give her the heads up and said he would call her again when we thought we needed her. Meanwhile, I started laying out the birthing supplies. I was having trouble laying everything out though, because the contractions were so close together. And so a couple of minutes later Colin was back on the phone letting our midwife know that maybe she should come right away after all. He then called his mom and sister, but then the big question: do we call my mom and sister? I didn't know how Debra was doing and I didn't have any desire to invite the anxiety of the previous night over for the birth. Besides, Debra had already been at one of my births and I had a feeling mom would feel more at ease not even knowing I was in labor let alone being there for the birth. The house was so calm and peaceful and we didn't want to ruin the magic. The decision was made.
At some point after 7am, the three girls had straggled down stairs. Colin had gotten them cereal and put a movie on for them. I was mostly hanging out in the living room working through the contractions with the help of Colin's counter-presure techniques. The two older girls would occasionally wander in to check on me, bouncing up and down with excitement or stroking my face, then scurry back to their movie. Twenty month old Kurin sat pleasantly in her highchair for almost two hours, happily observing all the activity.
The contractions were getting very intense by this point. Almost two minutes long with no break in between at all. I was so into my own little world that I barely noticed anyone around me. Shortly before 9 am, I began to get the strong urge to push. I settled into my favorite hands and knees position over the birthing ball and to everyone's surprise, two little feet emerged! A couple of contractions later I heard a gasp and Colin's sister Heidi breathlessly exclaim, "It's a boy!" and a slippery body rushed out of me. I tried not to loose focus, I was almost there, but the pain was so excruciating I remember thinking that there was no way I could go on. I felt the head crowning and urged myself to stay calm, breath deeply and slowly, and most of all, DON'T PUSH! I felt the midwife's hands slowly stretching my skin over the baby's head so as not to tear. I wanted to cry, to give up, I couldn't take it anymore, it hurt to much. Then a moment later it was all over and I heard a loud healthy cry. My baby was born! I had done it!
It was surreal as someone passed the baby into my arms. Sure enough, it was a boy! I couldn't believe it...for some reason I never thought that I would have a boy. I cradled him close knowing he had to be mine but still in disbelief that we and made a blue one after three pink ones! We named him Liam James-Henry Cunningham. Henry is my dad's name, and James is Colin's dad's name. So just like our first-born daughter, Rian, had been named after both grandmothers, our first born son would carry both his grandfather's names. And just like his big sister Rian, he too was born breech. He was our biggest baby so far at 7 lbs. 8 oz.
One evening, my sister Debra and her husband Ian came over for the evening to hang out. Shortly after we had gotten the kids to bed, Debra, who was a couple of months pregnant herself, came rushing down from the bathroom with the dreaded news that she was spotting. Suddenly, all the attention was off of me and onto my sister. Everyone was worried, crying, or praying. And when the spotting seemed to worsen my mom asked me if I would mind if she went home with Debra and Ian, and stayed with them for a few days to take care of her. She was so anxious because she felt both her daughters needed her, one with an imminent birth and the other with a potential for miscarriage. I told her I didn't mind, so feeling that Debra's need was more pressing, she packed her suitcase and they were off.
As soon as they left, a serene feeling came over me. Our house had this quiet, peacefulness of it being just us, that we hadn't felt in days. Colin and I were weary from it all and decided to go right to bed. But I had barely been able to get settled when steady contractions began. I allowed myself to hope just a little so instead of sleeping, we walked up and down the sidewalk in the front of our house. The contractions continued regularly, every 3-5 min. but didn't increase in intensity. Finally, around midnight, I was so exhausted we figured we may as well try to get some sleep.
I dozed right off and didn't wake again until 6am when Colin's alarm went off. Disappointment crept over me as I realized my labor had stopped. I got up with Colin, hoping that some activity might start the labor back up. Nothing. I watched him get ready for work and tried to act cheerful when all I really wanted were some good heavy contractions.
He was almost ready and about to leave when I realized there might be something going on after all. I was almost to afraid to hope or even mention anything to him. But when one after another, contractions began to follow quickly on the heels of the other, I wasn't sure if I should let him leave. We waited for a bit to see if things would intensify then he called his boss saying that he may be a little late for work. I still wasn't sure if we should bother the midwife or even start getting out the birthing supplies. Even though the contractions were getting very strong, they were a little sporadic and very much like all the false labor that I had been having off and on over the last couple of weeks. We waited a little longer, Colin with one eye on the clock trying to decided if he should leave for work, when suddenly there was no more doubt in either of our minds. This was it.
Colin called the midwife to give her the heads up and said he would call her again when we thought we needed her. Meanwhile, I started laying out the birthing supplies. I was having trouble laying everything out though, because the contractions were so close together. And so a couple of minutes later Colin was back on the phone letting our midwife know that maybe she should come right away after all. He then called his mom and sister, but then the big question: do we call my mom and sister? I didn't know how Debra was doing and I didn't have any desire to invite the anxiety of the previous night over for the birth. Besides, Debra had already been at one of my births and I had a feeling mom would feel more at ease not even knowing I was in labor let alone being there for the birth. The house was so calm and peaceful and we didn't want to ruin the magic. The decision was made.
At some point after 7am, the three girls had straggled down stairs. Colin had gotten them cereal and put a movie on for them. I was mostly hanging out in the living room working through the contractions with the help of Colin's counter-presure techniques. The two older girls would occasionally wander in to check on me, bouncing up and down with excitement or stroking my face, then scurry back to their movie. Twenty month old Kurin sat pleasantly in her highchair for almost two hours, happily observing all the activity.
The contractions were getting very intense by this point. Almost two minutes long with no break in between at all. I was so into my own little world that I barely noticed anyone around me. Shortly before 9 am, I began to get the strong urge to push. I settled into my favorite hands and knees position over the birthing ball and to everyone's surprise, two little feet emerged! A couple of contractions later I heard a gasp and Colin's sister Heidi breathlessly exclaim, "It's a boy!" and a slippery body rushed out of me. I tried not to loose focus, I was almost there, but the pain was so excruciating I remember thinking that there was no way I could go on. I felt the head crowning and urged myself to stay calm, breath deeply and slowly, and most of all, DON'T PUSH! I felt the midwife's hands slowly stretching my skin over the baby's head so as not to tear. I wanted to cry, to give up, I couldn't take it anymore, it hurt to much. Then a moment later it was all over and I heard a loud healthy cry. My baby was born! I had done it!
It was surreal as someone passed the baby into my arms. Sure enough, it was a boy! I couldn't believe it...for some reason I never thought that I would have a boy. I cradled him close knowing he had to be mine but still in disbelief that we and made a blue one after three pink ones! We named him Liam James-Henry Cunningham. Henry is my dad's name, and James is Colin's dad's name. So just like our first-born daughter, Rian, had been named after both grandmothers, our first born son would carry both his grandfather's names. And just like his big sister Rian, he too was born breech. He was our biggest baby so far at 7 lbs. 8 oz.
Areah, my sweet labor dula companion seconds old getting weighed
baby #5 -May 25, 2012 -Azlan David
We had never found out the gender of our babies before they had been born, but with this one I felt I needed to. I had been so surprised that we had had a boy the last time around that I had actually found it a little difficult to bond at first. But this time I had my heart set on having another boy so, as silly as this sounds, I wanted to find out so that I could deal with any mixed emotions ahead of time, and not in the wake of a surge of postpartum hormonal change. So when we had the ultrasound done and were told that we were having another boy, I was elated!
For me, knowing when I'm truly in labor and need to call people is so difficult. I would hate to call people to early and have them just sitting around missing a good night's sleep. But I don't want to wait until it's to late either. Not that I'm afraid to have a baby home alone. We absolutely loved our solo home birth. It's just really nice to have all the extra hands available to help...especially with having all the kids in the house. Some people prefer to give their kids the boot, but my girls have so enjoyed being a part of the miracle of birth and I've loved the feeling of my family being all together. I'm sure some of you reading this would think it very inappropriate or just plain wrong for me to have my children witness a birth and you are welcome to your own opinions, but we'll just have to agree to differ on this point. The way birth happens for me is always very modest and natural. And I love the way our girls are so unfazed and accepting of God's way of bringing a new person into the world.
So once again, I found myself hedging as to whether or not I was really in labor and if I should bother calling and waking anyone. Not that contractions aren't some seriously hard work, but I get so many bout's of 'false labor' in the weeks leading up to my grand finale that I just can't tell until I suddenly find myself in hard labor. So this time, it was about three in the morning that we decide to make some phone calls. People started trickling in between 3:30 and 4 am. Colin's mom came of course, and my friend Melissa who had had four home births of her own, and Colin's younger cousin Lauren.
My labor continued to gradually progress but not as quickly as I was accustomed to. As the sun began to rise and the younger children began to wake up (the older ones had already been up for some time), I remember starting to feel concerned. I knew Lauren had to leave by 7:30 in the morning to get to work on time and I so badly wanted her to experience the simplicity of home birth. Mom's schedule was a little more flexible, but she still had to get to her nannying job by mid-morning. And Melissa was unsure of whether or not her husband had scheduled work for that morning and would be able to get all their children off to school in time. I was getting very tired by this point, but every time I sat down to rest, the contractions would stop. I was really feeling bad as I looked around the room and saw everyone yawning and nodding off. I was wishing that I hadn't called everyone so early. So determined not to disappoint anyone, including myself, I continued to pace the floors without stopping for a rest in order to keep those contractions coming.
Finally, my perseverance paid off and somewhere around 7am I could feel myself go into transition. Things were getting very difficult now and there was very little if any break between my contractions. I labored like this for about 20 more minutes when one particulary unusual contraction grabbed my attention. I asked my midwife if it was possible for the baby to come down the birth canal without me feeling the urge to push. She nodded and smiled at me reassuringly, "You know what you're doing." Her confidence in me was all I needed. She would sit there appearing very nonchalant the whole time as she crocheted a baby hat for my new bundle, all the while fully aware of everything I was doing, right down to the catch in my breath. I didn't have much time to ponder all this though, as my body quickly called me back to work. I had a few more of these strange contractions, but instead of focusing of the absurdity of them, I would force myself to totally relax so that they could fully do what their job was to do.
Very suddenly, just before 7:30, I felt the baby's head crowning. I had been right, the baby had come down the birth canal all on it's own with no help from me pushing. My midwife told me later that the baby hadn't been at the correct rotation when it had entered the birth canal and that was why I hadn't had the urge to push. It was my body instinctively allowing the baby to get into the right position without causing it any harm by forcing it through at a wrong angle. So now the baby was ready to make it's entry, but I wasn't. I had been caught off guard mid-contraction while standing with my arms around Colin's neck and now I was frozen to that spot on the floor. My midwife asked if I would be able to move to a more optimal position for giving birth and I almost started crying. "I can't move," I whimpered. Melissa offered to let me hang onto her so Colin would get to deliver the baby. "I"m so sorry honey," I gasped, "I just can't move. You won't be able to deliver this baby. I'm so sorry." Colin was quick to reassure me that it was o.k., but I remember still feeling so bad that he wouldn't get to deliver his own baby on account of me not having the courage to let go of his neck for one split second in order for Melissa to take his place. But the baby was right there ready to make an entrance. A couple of contractions later and my fat, pudgy baby boy with a very large head plopped into our midwife's hands. I sat down to cradle him and Lauren came over to tell me she had to leave. I was so grateful that she had been able to witness the birth after all, but with not a minute to spare.
Shortly after, mom had to leave as well. We had also just found out that her and dad were leaving for vacation that evening. We were instantly in a whirl trying to figure out who could watch the kids for a couple of days so I could get some rest. I was so grateful when Colin's brother Ian and wife Katie accepted the task even though they themselves had four kids, with the youngest being only a few months old. It was Friday, so Colin and I had the whole weekend with just us together to revel in the wonder of our incredibly beautiful boy. We named him Azlan David Cunningham, David being Colin's middle name. He was our biggest baby at 8 lbs. even and oh so chubby!
For me, knowing when I'm truly in labor and need to call people is so difficult. I would hate to call people to early and have them just sitting around missing a good night's sleep. But I don't want to wait until it's to late either. Not that I'm afraid to have a baby home alone. We absolutely loved our solo home birth. It's just really nice to have all the extra hands available to help...especially with having all the kids in the house. Some people prefer to give their kids the boot, but my girls have so enjoyed being a part of the miracle of birth and I've loved the feeling of my family being all together. I'm sure some of you reading this would think it very inappropriate or just plain wrong for me to have my children witness a birth and you are welcome to your own opinions, but we'll just have to agree to differ on this point. The way birth happens for me is always very modest and natural. And I love the way our girls are so unfazed and accepting of God's way of bringing a new person into the world.
So once again, I found myself hedging as to whether or not I was really in labor and if I should bother calling and waking anyone. Not that contractions aren't some seriously hard work, but I get so many bout's of 'false labor' in the weeks leading up to my grand finale that I just can't tell until I suddenly find myself in hard labor. So this time, it was about three in the morning that we decide to make some phone calls. People started trickling in between 3:30 and 4 am. Colin's mom came of course, and my friend Melissa who had had four home births of her own, and Colin's younger cousin Lauren.
My labor continued to gradually progress but not as quickly as I was accustomed to. As the sun began to rise and the younger children began to wake up (the older ones had already been up for some time), I remember starting to feel concerned. I knew Lauren had to leave by 7:30 in the morning to get to work on time and I so badly wanted her to experience the simplicity of home birth. Mom's schedule was a little more flexible, but she still had to get to her nannying job by mid-morning. And Melissa was unsure of whether or not her husband had scheduled work for that morning and would be able to get all their children off to school in time. I was getting very tired by this point, but every time I sat down to rest, the contractions would stop. I was really feeling bad as I looked around the room and saw everyone yawning and nodding off. I was wishing that I hadn't called everyone so early. So determined not to disappoint anyone, including myself, I continued to pace the floors without stopping for a rest in order to keep those contractions coming.
Finally, my perseverance paid off and somewhere around 7am I could feel myself go into transition. Things were getting very difficult now and there was very little if any break between my contractions. I labored like this for about 20 more minutes when one particulary unusual contraction grabbed my attention. I asked my midwife if it was possible for the baby to come down the birth canal without me feeling the urge to push. She nodded and smiled at me reassuringly, "You know what you're doing." Her confidence in me was all I needed. She would sit there appearing very nonchalant the whole time as she crocheted a baby hat for my new bundle, all the while fully aware of everything I was doing, right down to the catch in my breath. I didn't have much time to ponder all this though, as my body quickly called me back to work. I had a few more of these strange contractions, but instead of focusing of the absurdity of them, I would force myself to totally relax so that they could fully do what their job was to do.
Very suddenly, just before 7:30, I felt the baby's head crowning. I had been right, the baby had come down the birth canal all on it's own with no help from me pushing. My midwife told me later that the baby hadn't been at the correct rotation when it had entered the birth canal and that was why I hadn't had the urge to push. It was my body instinctively allowing the baby to get into the right position without causing it any harm by forcing it through at a wrong angle. So now the baby was ready to make it's entry, but I wasn't. I had been caught off guard mid-contraction while standing with my arms around Colin's neck and now I was frozen to that spot on the floor. My midwife asked if I would be able to move to a more optimal position for giving birth and I almost started crying. "I can't move," I whimpered. Melissa offered to let me hang onto her so Colin would get to deliver the baby. "I"m so sorry honey," I gasped, "I just can't move. You won't be able to deliver this baby. I'm so sorry." Colin was quick to reassure me that it was o.k., but I remember still feeling so bad that he wouldn't get to deliver his own baby on account of me not having the courage to let go of his neck for one split second in order for Melissa to take his place. But the baby was right there ready to make an entrance. A couple of contractions later and my fat, pudgy baby boy with a very large head plopped into our midwife's hands. I sat down to cradle him and Lauren came over to tell me she had to leave. I was so grateful that she had been able to witness the birth after all, but with not a minute to spare.
Shortly after, mom had to leave as well. We had also just found out that her and dad were leaving for vacation that evening. We were instantly in a whirl trying to figure out who could watch the kids for a couple of days so I could get some rest. I was so grateful when Colin's brother Ian and wife Katie accepted the task even though they themselves had four kids, with the youngest being only a few months old. It was Friday, so Colin and I had the whole weekend with just us together to revel in the wonder of our incredibly beautiful boy. We named him Azlan David Cunningham, David being Colin's middle name. He was our biggest baby at 8 lbs. even and oh so chubby!
silly little girls waiting for a new sibling... luvn' on mamma during a contraction... resting between contractions...
Colin's counter pressure to aliviate the pain... seconds old... checking for the newborn apgar score...
preparing to weigh and measure Mr. Chubba... it doesn't get more precious than this! napping with mama -1 week
baby #6 -due: June 11,2014 -Zoe Evangeline
the story is coming...promise. It's just taking me a bit of time to process. But no worries, because it was good...very good!