Women's Options in Maternity Care & Birth

My name is Michelle Rimmel-Maisonville.  I am the married mother of two children; a daughter, Sydne and a son, Nicolaus.  I am originally from the United States.  I moved to Canada in 2001 after my marriage to my husband, Mike.  We resided in Lethbridge, Alberta for our first year of marriage.  Shortly after finding out we were expecting our first child, in 2002, we moved to Edmonton, Alberta.  Our daughter was born in 2003 and our son in 2005.  Recently, we decided to come back to Southern Alberta, now residing in the city of Medicine Hat.

Upon relocating to a smaller town after living in a larger centre, it was apparent to me that so much is lacking in the way of birthing options and information.  A lot of the women I have spoken with have no idea what all is available to them.  And, unfortunately, I've found that many never knew to ask. 

After the birth of my daughter, I felt dissatisfied with the experience.  I had chosen to have an epidural because my mother had always told me, "We'll have to knock you out," as I didn't have a high tolerance for pain while growing up.  The epidural numbed me not only physically, but emotionally as well.  I didn't feel present at my own child's birth.  Read more in my birth story, Courage to Choose.

Because my daughter's birth was so traumatic for her and myself, I knew that the next time would be different.  I needed it to be!  As soon as we found out we was expecting our son, my husband and I began looking for a doula.  I had actually begun researching alternative birthing options prior to even conceiving.  I read everything I could get my hands on.  Read Courage to Choose or the birth story by our doula, Kim.

It was both of my children's births and my acquired knowledge that inspired me to begin WOMB.  In addition to working with women to help them be better informed and prepared for childbirth, I am also attending college in preparation for attaining a degree in midwifery.

Thank you for visiting WOMB's home on the web.  I hope you are informed, inspired and uplifted.  If you have any questions or comments or would like to inquire about membership or services, please contact us!

The first memory I have regarding the idea of birth was as a child when, after bumping my shin and wailing, my mother said to me, “They’re going to have to knock you out when you have kids.”  I didn’t know then how much that statement would impact my future.

When my husband, Mike, and I first discussed starting a family, I went into research mode.  I sat down at the computer and began surfing the information super-highway gleaning all sorts of tidbits about birth, babies and childcare. 

Which is the best way to diaper, disposable or cloth? 

How does one give their child the best educational foundation? 

Should I be a stay-at-home mom or working mom?

If there was something to be learned, I wanted to absorb it all. 

Somehow along the way I stumbled upon some “alternative” ideas.  I found a newsprint magazine with articles on natural childbirth and parenting choices.  I poured over the contents of the magazine, which included numerous birth stories.  “Truly,” I thought, “there are not women out there who actually want to be in pain?”  Certainly not when there is medication available to allow them to be awake and aware during labour, yet pain-free.  How could a labour without any pain be undesirable? 

Shortly after becoming pregnant with our first child, my husband and I made the move from Lethbridge, Alberta to Edmonton.  I found a great family physician; a general practitioner who also delivered babies.  I remember telling her at one of my prenatal appointments, “I don’t want to be a hero.  Sign me up for an epidural.”  After all, if I couldn’t handle a bump on the shin, how would I do with real pain?  Nope, I wasn’t even going to chance it.  My doctor was supportive and made the note in my chart.  I also included it in my simple, one-page birth plan.

My daughter was born on Saturday, May 10, 2001, ten days after my due date.  I was tired of being pregnant.  My mom had arrived from the States a week earlier.  We walked through West Edmonton Mall, went bowling and I trudged up and down the stairs in our home as much as possible.  My doctor stripped my membranes twice and I begged for her to induce me.  The night before I was scheduled to be induced, I went into labour on my own.

During one of my many nightly trips to the bathroom, I noticed goop on the pad in my underwear.  It was, well, goopy and there was lots of it.  I knew it wasn’t my mucus plug as I had lost it a week before and this wasn’t pink…it was a very pale clear yet cloudy grey-green (*meconium-tinged).  I called the local 24-hour nurse line.  They said it was probably nothing.  I wasn’t convinced.  So, when I felt a little mini-gush, I knew it was my water breaking, or rather leaking at this point.  It was around 2:30 AM when I woke first my mother and then, Mike and we headed to the Royal Alexandra Hospital.

My contractions started on the way to the hospital, which was 10-15 minutes from our home.  They were centered in my lower back.  At the hospital, I changed into the hospital gown, peed in a cup, left my pad on a paper towel in the bathroom (per the nurse’s instructions) and settled into the bed in the assessment room.  The fetal monitor was strapped around my belly and I lay in a semi-reclined position.  I had only been in the bed a few minutes it seemed, when my water broke with a gush.  The nurse (or was it a resident?) confirmed that there was meconium in the water, meaning the baby had pooped inside the uterus, possibly from distress.

I assume that at some point they must have moved me into a labour and delivery room, but I don’t remember when. The contractions were now coming one on top of the other and I had a lot of back labour.  Lying on my left-side, I felt like I was going to throw-up with each contraction.  I remember feeling so afraid to throw up.  I think it was partly from embarrassment and partly because I just didn’t want to throw up.  Both Mom and Mike tried to help me focus, look at them and breathe through the pain. They tried encouraging me, but all I was aware of was the intense nausea and back pain.

I don’t know how long I was in labour at this point, but it didn’t even seem like an hour had gone by. I think I was around four centimeters dilated.  A nurse asked me if I wanted a shot in the hip or the epidural…  I enthusiastically replied that I was ready for the epidural.  Once the epidural was in place, Mike and I both slept for several hours.  I don’t know if my mom slept at all, but I believe she told me later that she didn’t. 

The epidural had slowed my labour, so I was started on IV pitocin to increase the contractions.  With each increase made to the dosage of the artificial hormone, the epidural lost some of its numbing effect, so an increase was made to its strength as well.  This up and down dance kept up throughout the day.

At some point in the afternoon, I had two young nurses taking care of me.  One of the nurses was a student.  They checked me and found me to be fully dilated.  So, without feeling much of an urge, I started pushing.  I pushed for almost four hours and moved the baby down, but my progress had stalled and my doctor arrived.  She checked me and basically poked the baby in the eye, finding that she was occiput posterior, i.e. head down, but face up.  Unbeknownst to me, the doctor reprimanded the nurses for letting me push so long without her being called in and not recognizing the baby’s difficult position. 

Because I had moved the baby down so far in the birth canal, a cesarean, which my doctor later informed me she would have called for otherwise, was out of the question.  So, she called for the obstetrician on-call to come in and assist with the delivery. 

The OB was a sweet, funny gentleman with a lilting Scottish accent.  He was a comforting presence.  Yet, I was nervous when he mentioned that they would have to try using the vacuum to help the baby out.  They tried.  It didn’t work.  So, the doctor brought out the forceps.  Finally after an episiotomy and a fourth degree perineal tear, the baby was out.  The doctor held her upside down and Mike announced that she was a girl.  We cried.

Our daughter, Sydne Mikaela, was whisked over to the other side of the room so the nurses and doctors from the neonatal intensive care unit could give her the once over.  They had been called in due to the meconium in the amniotic fluid. 

While Sydne was examined, I delivered the placenta.  Then, the Scottish OB oversaw as my doctor stitched up my large tear, which was both interior and through my perineum to the sphincter (in layman’s terms, my “bum”).  I was in a haze, from the long pushing phase and the effects of the epidural.  Though, I do remember “Dr. Scottie” making some cute jokes to cut the tension.

When I finally held my new baby daughter, I noticed what appeared to be a large blood blister on her forehead.  Her face was bruised from the forceps and vacuum and her nose squished from being stuck under my pubic bone.  Still, I had never seen anyone so beautiful.  We were moved to the postpartum floor and I tried to breastfeed her, but between my clumsiness and fatigue and what I now believe was Sydne’s stress and pain from her difficult birth, we didn’t manage it. 

That night, the nurses took Sydne to the nursery so I could rest.   They fed her bottles of formula.  I don’t remember much else from that first night. 

We continued trying to breastfeed throughout our stay in the hospital.  Each time I tried to feed Sydne, the nurses would try to help, but usually ended up shoving her roughly onto my breast.  Sydne screamed and pulled away each time.  It was as though she just didn’t want to do it.  Each nurse had a different idea about why she wouldn’t latch on.  They said perhaps she was tongue-tied or she couldn’t breathe because her nose was squished, or maybe because her chin was recessed.  Frustrated and hurt, I yelled at the lactation consultant and told her to leave me alone.  Finally, my doctor told me just to tell the nurses that I was going to formula feed so they’d release me from the hospital.

The Monday evening after Sydne was born, we went home.  I continued trying to breastfeed, but pumped and supplemented with formula as she still refused to take the breast.  I cried and she cried at each attempt.  The health nurse visited the day following our release from the hospital and I continued to have a nurse visit each day throughout the week, still trying to establish breastfeeding.  The day my mother was to return home, I began crying constantly…the beginnings of postpartum depression.  Then, on my way to the bathroom, I lost control of my bowels… or rather found that I had no control at all.  It was painful reminder of my episiotomy and subsequent tear.

I saw my doctor a week after Sydne was born to see if she could increase the dosage of the medication I was already taking for depression.  At the visit, she saw my anxiety, stress and sadness over our struggle to breastfeed and suggested we fully make the switch to formula in order to relieve some of my depression.  Reluctantly, I agreed.

As the months passed, I experienced intense guilt over not breastfeeding Sydne.  I read about relactation and tried without success to get her to latch on and reestablish my milk supply.  I just couldn’t understand how it seemed to come so easily to most of the women I knew. 

One day, on a routine trip to the supermarket I came across an issue of the same newsprint magazine I had read when Mike and I were still in the early stages of planning our family.  Reading the birth stories and articles inside, I felt as though someone had just told me that the sky was blue and for the first time I saw that it was true.  I read page after page of research findings linking routine interventions with complications postpartum.  I started to go over Sydne’s birth in my head.  I began asking myself if I could have done some things differently.  Could the epidural I had in labour have contributed to my lengthy pushing phase?  If I had been able to feel more, would we have known earlier that she was in the wrong position?  Would we have breastfed successfully if the birth was less traumatic?  I had to learn more.  So, I began researching once again.

Birth had begun to encompass my thoughts.  I needed learn more.  I felt the more I knew, the better I’d be able to heal the emotional scars of my first birth experience.  I read about doulas (professional labour assistants).  I was awed at the thought of someone being able to be a part of such an important event in life, and making it a career.  I saw in these wise women someone who supported others in finding their own strength and helped them create beautiful birth experiences.  The more I studied, the more I wished I could be one of these women.  But, how could I help someone achieve something that I hadn’t?

When Sydne was a year old, Mike and I began talking about expanding our family.  Regardless of the birth experience, we were so blessed to have Sydne, an incredibly happy social child.  I had been diagnosed with polycystic ovaries and had a family history of reproductive problems, so we decided that we wanted to go ahead and have another child as soon as we could.  While I was scared at the prospect of experiencing the pain of labour again, my desire for fewer complications and successful breastfeeding was stronger than any fear.  So, I knew this time things had to be different.

I began calling midwives within a week after finding out I was pregnant with our second child.  Our family doctor was supportive and kind, but I wanted to make sure we had the best possible chance at a natural and intervention-free birth.  Midwifery wasn’t publicly funded and as we didn’t have additional health insurance, we weren’t in the position to pay the fees.  So, we looked to a small hospital about 20 minutes from Edmonton that had the province’s only funded midwives through a pilot shared-care program.  We went to an orientation session and signed up for the program. 

Our midwife, Noreen, was a grandmotherly woman.  She was very noninvasive and made us feel very comfortable.  However, after only a few visits, Mike had a job change and we were no longer able to make the drive out to the clinic.  So, we had to transfer back to our family physician. 

I explained my enlightened and informed plans for our second child’s birth to our doctor.  Having hopes to start a family herself, she was wonderfully open to our wishes and promised to do all she could to help us have the birth of our dreams.

Since we were unable to have a midwife assisted birth, I knew the best thing for us to do was to start looking for a doula.  I called the local doula association and requested a volunteer as doula fees were also out of our budget.  I was referred to one woman, who later found she was overbooked for the month my son was due and in turn connected us with a volunteer named Kim.

As a volunteer doula, Kim had recently completed formal training and was required to attend a certain number of births prior to becoming certified.  She lived an hour and a half out of town, but was more than happy to come into the city to meet with us.  At our first meeting, I told Kim about Sydne’s birth and the concerns which had stemmed from that experience.  Kim looked over my birth plan, a much longer version that the one I’d had for Sydne, and we discussed my wishes.  I felt very comfortable with Kim and knew she was the right fit for our family. 

During the last two months of my pregnancy, Kim and I talked often.  She met with Mike and me and showed us an amazing video of a newborn baby pulling itself to its mother’s breast and instinctively latching on.  When my doctor expressed concern over the size of the baby, Kim found natural birth stories of moms with babies over eight pounds.  I was inspired and encouraged.

At 5:22 AM on March 8, 2005, thirteen days before my due date, I had gotten up to use the bathroom and thought I was leaking amniotic fluid.  But, I wasn’t certain, so I went back into the bedroom.  Sydne, who had been sleeping at the foot of our bed, had fallen out of her toddler bed.  As I squatted down to pick her up, my water broke with a pop and a whoosh!  I yelled to Mike that my water had broken and told him to call Kim.  I was group B strep positive, so we had agreed to go into the hospital as soon as my water broke so that I could be put on IV antibiotics to prevent it from passing to the baby. 

After Mike got off the phone with Kim, who agreed to set out right away for the hospital, he called our friends in the apartment building next door.  They had agreed to watch Sydne while I was in the hospital.  So, I waddled around the house, leaking all the way, getting everything together for her to take with her.  Then I stopped to call my parents and let them know we were going to have the baby.  Either Mike or I got Sydne dressed in her snowsuit and wrapped her in a blanket.  On our way out the door, Mike forgot the keys.  I laughed.  I think he was more nervous this time around, without my mom there to keep him calm.

We dropped Sydne off with our friends; she’d slept through all the excitement.  We headed to the hospital.  My contractions had not started yet, so when we arrived shortly before 6 AM, I insisted on walking to the assessment room.  I went in and went through the familiar motions of changing, peeing, etc.  This time, though I consented to the twenty minutes of external fetal monitoring, I insisted that I remain seated upright on the bed to let gravity do its work.

My contractions still had not started after the required monitoring period, so Mike and I asked if we could walk around the labor and delivery floor.  We returned to the assessment room at 7.  Kim still wasn’t there and I was beginning to feel anxious.  Finally, a half hour later, she arrived. 

Our doctor came around 9 AM. There was once again meconium in the amniotic fluid.  We began carefully weighing our options. I considered the GBS + factor and the length of time my water had been broken without contractions.  I had done my research and knew the risks of labour augmentation, but felt confident that I would be able to have a natural birth without any other interventions.  I had the support of my husband and doula to help me feel secure in my body’s ability to birth.  My physician was also aware of my desires and had been extremely supportive of my decisions thus far.  So, l decided to go ahead with the labor augmentation.  We were moved to a labour and delivery room.  A nurse came in and hooked me up to the IV antibiotics and pitocin, while Mike, Kim and I settled into a game of Crazy Eights. 

The rest of the day passed without much change.  I felt mostly Braxton Hicks contractions, but nothing painful.  Mike, Kim and I ate and laughed, played and prayed.  Still nothing much happened.  Nurses came in and upped the pitocin every hour or so.  I sat on the birth ball, a large exercise ball also used for core training, and tried to stay upright and off the external fetal monitor as much as possible.  Kim tried acupressure and massage to stimulate contractions.  Mike looked for Pepsi in the hospital vending machines, but found none.  Kim took pictures of us, including a couple of cute ones of Mike and me with our hands on my round belly.  I was still excited, but started wondering when things were going to get rolling.  “Did I shave my legs for this?” I asked.

The pitocin was running at 66 mL an hour.  I sat on the birth ball near the bed with my belly hanging forward between my legs.  At 3:09 PM, the first painful contraction swelled.  I told Mike and Kim and they began timing it.  It was deep in my bones, like ice, but without the chill.  I rested my head on the bed and went into myself and breathed through the contraction.  I could feel my body working to move the baby down.  The next contraction came five minutes later; then another one only a moment after that.  I got up to go to the bathroom and worked through another contraction by myself, moaning a low “Ohh...”  It was painful and yet, blissful.  I was doing it on my own. 

As I exited the bathroom, another wave began.  I leaned against the door for support, my head down, breathing through the intense tightening.  It was time for the nurses shift change.  The new nurse flew into the room and quickly introduced herself, ignoring the fact that I was concentrating on my working body.  The nurse instructed me to lie in the bed so she could attach the fetal monitor.  I was not about to be immobilized and unable to work through the contractions the way I needed to.  I refused.  Irritated, she said curtly, “For the sake of your baby, you need to get in the bed.”  I told her that no, she needed to get me a different nurse.  With that, Nurse Ratchet stormed out of the room.  I smiled, pleased at my ability to advocate for myself.  Kim and Mike beamed. 

I waddled to the birth ball and Kim suggested I kneel down and drape my upper-body over the ball for support.  The waves were coming hard and fast.  I could barely catch my breath.  Thinking back to Sydne’s birth, I began to feel unsure of my ability to carry on for hours more.  Fear crept in.  I started sobbing.  Kim moved from my rear, where she had been doing the hip squeeze through the last couple of contractions, and positioned herself near my face.  She talked me through the next contractions, helping me focus on getting through them one at a time.  My moans became longer and higher.  “Ohhhhhhh…”  Mike rubbed my back and told me I was doing great.  I told Kim I didn’t think I could do it anymore.  Everything had gotten so intense so quickly.  Kim suggested moving into the shower.  I couldn’t even think of moving at that point.  I really felt at that point I wanted drugs.

Kim, knowing that I was in transition, agreed to ask the nurse for the epidural order, but also knew that the required exam would most likely indicate it was too late. She had the sneaking suspicion, which was entirely correct, that I was in transition.  At 4:15 PM, the nurse checked me and I was almost fully dilated.   I was so relieved.  I hadn’t truly wanted the medication; I just thought I had so much further to go.  Within moments of the nurse’s exam, I felt the overwhelming need to push and loudly proclaimed it.

Our doctor arrived at 4:30 PM.  I really had to pee.  The doctor told me just to do it, but I couldn’t.  I asked her to help.  At my request, she gave me an in/out catheter, where the catheter is inserted just to empty the bladder, then taken out.  Relief!

Mike held my right leg and Kim held the left.  I put my fists under my tailbone to relieve the increased pressure.  A mirror had been set up so I could see the baby crowning, but I was in a primal place.  I grunted forcefully and focused only on pushing my baby into the world.  As he crowned, Mike announced that he had hair.  The doctor began manually stretching my perineum to prevent tearing.  I pushed through the burning sensation.  I could feel my baby’s head expanding the opening.  With a feeling similar to a pop, his head was out.  A few more pushes and his body slipped into the doctors hands.  At 4:54 PM, Nicolaus was born.  The doctor laid him directly on my chest.  I cried, kissed the top of his head and told him how much I loved him, as Kim took pictures.  I was elated and empowered and floating on a cloud of such unbelievable love and strength. 

Nicky was checked over by the NICU team because of the meconium in the water and the GBS + factor.  Mike stayed by his side.  Kim spoke softly to me as the doctor stitched up a tiny tear.  The local anesthesia had not taken effect, so I was given a bit of gas, but that was worse.  After nearly passing out, I decided that the gas was not for me. 

My eight pound one ounce son was brought back to me, swaddled like a little burrito, and Kim helped me put him to my breast.  Now was the moment I had been waiting for.  Nicky latched on, and I watched in wonder as we worked together to nourish his newborn body.  Tears of joy once again ran down my cheeks.

Around seven or so in the evening, Kim left the hospital.  Nicolaus had been given his first bath while I ate supper.  Mike stayed with us for a while before leaving to pick up Sydne from our friends' home.

Alone in the dark, I lifted my new son from his bassinet and held him close to my heart as we slept.  It was the nights that would be the most special in the coming weeks; when it was only the two of us cuddling close as he was nourished by my breasts.  I felt satisfied, peaceful and enveloped in a dream come true.

In giving birth to my children, I experienced so much more than I ever thought possible.  I learned my own strength as a woman.  I trusted in my body to accomplish what it had been created to do.  I was awed, inspired and utterly transformed.

My daughter, at nearly five, has already filed away her own early ideas of birth.  (When Mom is studying to become a childbirth educator, books and videos on birth litter the home.)  When Sydne sees a labouring mother on the television she watches intently, waiting for the baby to be born.  The words vagina, uterus and placenta are as common to her as doll, car and book.  However open I am with Sydne now, I can still only hope that as an adult, her feelings towards birth are not motivated by fear.  Whatever options are available to her when she embarks upon the adventure of motherhood, my greatest desire for her is simply that she has the courage to choose. 

To learn more about Kim visit Blooming Bellies.

The Birth Story of Nicolaus

Dear Nicolaus,

I had the honor of being with your mom and dad as you came into the world on your Birthday, Tuesday, March 8, 2005.

I first met your mom, Michelle, and sister, Sydne, on February 4th, 2005, when I came to your home to find out what would be important to your parents on the day of your birth. I was to be your mom's doula. During our visit, I learned three very important things:

1. Your mom really wanted to have a natural birth because it is best for you and her as long as there would be no complications.

2. Your mom really desired to breastfeed you because she knows that kind of milk and bonding is best for you.

3. Your mom is a terrific mother making good decisions and doing her very best to be what you and Sydne need in a mom.

On February 18th, 2005, I had the chance to meet your dad, Mike, too when I came for another visit. Your mom and dad and I watched a video about breastfeeding and talked more about the thoughts on your upcoming birth. At this visit I learned two more very important things about your family:

1. You have the blessing of being born into a family who loves God and follows Jesus.

2. You have a great dad who is excited to be a father to you alongside Sydne.

On February 22nd, your mom went for her prenatal check up and discovered that she was 1 cm. dilated already. After that she started losing her mucus plug, and having frequent Braxton Hicks contractions. I finished packing my birth bag thinking I would get a call from your mom in the next few days.

The next call I got was Saturday, February 26th. Your mom gave me an update on her prenatal check up. She was now measuring 41 cm. on her belly. That is a measurement that tells lots about baby?s growth. Usually, the centimeters will match the number of weeks the mother is pregnant. For example, your mom was 36 1/2 weeks along at that appointment, so she should measure around 36 or 37 cm. But her belly was 5 cm. bigger than that. And having met her and seen that she was not a big woman at all, I was concerned that you were going to be HUGE! (as I'm sure your doctor and mom were also concerned about the same thing) But on that phone call, your mom told me that she knew she would be able to push out a nine pound baby. Wow! I was impressed and I knew she could do it too. She was now 2 cm. dilated!

On Monday, February 28th, your mom called to let me know that she and your dad were heading into the hospital to get checked because your mom was very dizzy and sick to her stomach, which can sometimes be a sign of hyper-tension. Everything ended up being fine, thankfully. Your mommy is just so anxious for you to come. So your parents went walking in mall to see if the activity would get things going.

Saturday, March 5th was another regular check-up for your mom. She now measured 44 cm. Dr. Modi stripped your mom's membranes, which is basically a word for irritating the bag of waters and lifting it in the hopes that it might stimulate labor. Then she and your dad went walking in three different malls.

Although all of that walking did not bring on labor, I think it was getting your mom in excellent shape for the hard work that was ahead.

On Monday, March 7th, I phoned your mom because I was worried about her that she may not have been getting enough rest and might be feeling discouraged. Both were true because she felt that the longer the pregnancy went on, with your growth rate, the slimmer the chances for a natural birth would be, which could make breastfeeding a bigger challenge as well if there indeed did have to be interventions. I tried to encourage her a little. Although you were not due for another 13 days, we all were anxious for you to come immediately.

At 5:22 a.m. on Tuesday, March 8th, 2005, your mommy had gotten out of bed to get Sydne, who had rolled out of her bed onto the floor in her sleep. As your mom picked Sydne up and stood, her water broke!! Excited, she called out to your dad, "My water just broke, call Kim!" (me, the doula) Your dad listened well. He called me at 5:22 a.m., still during the same minute the water had broken. We were so excited that today was the day! No contractions were coming yet, but they left for the hospital right away anyways. Your mommy was Group B Strep positive (GBS +). That simply means that at that time, she carried a certain bacteria that everyone has a one time or another, but an infant exposed to it during delivery could potentially develop an infection if antibiotics are not administered. So your parents wanted to start the antibiotics right away to ensure your good health.

Sydne stayed with friends next door - the longest Sydne and mommy had ever been separated.

Your mommy and daddy arrived at the Royal Alexandra hospital in Edmonton, Alberta just before 6 a.m. They walked around for awhile trying to get the contractions to start, but you were content to stay warm, cozy and protected awhile longer. Your parents returned, as ordered, to the assessment room at 7:00 a.m. Dr. Modi had been paged, but had not yet arrived. I, the doula was still not there yet. Your mom was starting to get anxious in the hospital that we were not there, and I was on the road feeling anxious during the one and a half hour drive. I couldn?t wait to get with your parents so I could see how things were going.

I joined your mom and dad at 7:30 a.m. Your dad left to find your hungry mommy some bread and peanut butter. (Pregnant women need lots of calories) Your parents shared with me how anxious and excited your dad was when they were trying to leave home for the hospital. He kept forgetting things like keys, and having to run back to get them while your mom laughed and waited for him.

The nurse, named Kim, like me, started the I.V. antibiotics on your mom at 8:15 a.m. I guess your mom has good veins because the nurse ended up with blood everywhere. But everyone was okay. Breakfast came and your parents shared it.

Dr. Modi, a young, friendly, personable woman, arrived at 9:00 a.m. She checked your mom and talked with us about progress and the next steps. Your mom was 3 cm. dilated and Dr. Modi called it a favorable cervix. But there was some meconium in the fluid, which means you already pooped, which could indicate that you were stressed. After discussing the options and the risks, all of us agreed that with the water having broken 4 hrs. before and no contractions and the GBS + factor, and the meconium, this labor needed to get rolling! So, an induction it was.

Your mom was moved into the labor and delivery room at 9:30 a.m. Your dad and I followed with all the "stuff" we had brought along (birth ball, massage tools, massage gel and oils, worship music tapes and stereo, snacks, drinks, kneeling pads, playing cards, hot and cold packs and lots of optimism. While we were waiting for the nurse to come and hook up the I.V. pitocin drip for inducing labor, your dad turned on the worship music.

Your mom sat on the ball and your dad started massaging her shoulders with peppermint massage gel. There are pressure points in the shoulders that could potentially cause contractions. I sat on the floor in front of your mom and massaged her feet and ankles, pressing on pressure points above the inside of her ankles. Those points too could cause contractions. We were working hard to get things going. At this point, the mood was hopeful, excited and fun. Your mom said she was glad she had shaved her legs and painted her toenails the day before so she looked nice for your Birthday.

10:00 a.m. rolled around with no contractions and the nurse bringing the pitocin drip and starting it very low at 6 mL/hr. We had all felt starting small would be best so we would know at what level your mom?s contractions would respond. Your mom got off the ball to be monitored on the bed for awhile. Kim, the nurse attached the external fetal monitor on your mom's belly, your home, to keep track of your heart rate and your mom's contractions. It is important to do that when starting an intervention to make sure the two of you handle it well. And you did! But you were still not in anymore of a hurry to be born. So we settled in to play Crazy Eights. Your parents had to teach me how to play. At this point, your mom was having very minor Braxton Hicks contractions 3-5 minutes apart. She kept saying, "I can't wait until they hurt!"

At 10:45 a.m. Kim turned up the drip to 12mL/hr. Still nothing but card games to report, which to be honest, wasn?t much to report either. I think we played the longest lasting Crazy Eights game in history.

At 11:30 a.m. The nurse turned the drip up to 18 mL/hr and your mom talked her into taking her off the monitor so she could get out of bed and walk for awhile. Kim allowed 20 minutes of walking up and down the short hallway. First, all three of us went walking, but it was a little crowded with two other couples doing the same thing. So your dad left to buy a Pepsi, and your mom and I started speed walking (sort of). When your dad came back with his Coke (no Pepsi machines in the hospital), he and your mom kept walking and I waited in the room. Even the walking combined with the Pitocin was not causing true contractions.

At 12:15 p.m., Kim turned the drip up to 30 mL/hr. Your mom got back into the bed to monitor your little heart rate again. Although a lot of time had to be spent in bed due to the intermittent fetal monitoring, your mom was still strong and insistent that she sit upright to at least let gravity help you to drop down.

Lunch came and your mom and dad shared it. Your mom did not want to eat too heavy because we were really anticipating labor to start any moment. Your dad kept saying, "I have this feeling that when it starts, it's going to go hard and fast."

At 1:15 p.m., the Pitocin running at 42 mL/hr., our entertainment was running low. Your mom was alternating between reading a British maternity magazine and almost dozing. Everyone was tired, not from a hard labor like we had expected, but from nothing happening beyond potty breaks every 10 minutes. Your mom's water had broken 8 hrs. before and meeting you seemed farther away than ever.

At this time, we decided to pray together for God to boost morale, protect you and your mom, and guide your daddy and I how to best help your mom, and that ultimately, He'd bring you, Nicolaus, into the world soon. That seemed to bring a lot of peace as well as some bonding between the three of us.

2:05 p.m. brought the nurse into the room to increase the Pitocin to 54 mL/hr. By now, instead of being disappointed with each increase, we were all happy about it because we were so looking forward to those hard contractions. Your mom commented, "Did I shave my legs for this?" We all had a good laugh about that.

At 2:40 p.m., your mom moved back onto the birth ball and nurse, Kim, turned up the drip to 66 mL/hr. Up until now, the contractions were essentially Braxton Hicks and not at all regular. Kim was leaving soon for a shift change.

Your mom was sitting forward on the birth ball, sort of letting you and her belly hang forward between her legs. Within minutes of that change in position, at 3:09 p.m., your mom had her first painful contraction. She breathed through it while your dad put counter pressure on her tailbone. At 3:14 p.m., the next painful contraction came. Now it was intense labor.

Your dad and I were grinning, excited. I think your mom was not quite as excited as us because it was very painful and she was imagining hours and hours to go.

The third painful contraction was at 3:15 p.m., only one minute apart! Was your dad right? Was it going to happen hard and fast? After that one, your mom had to go to the bathroom again. She had a contraction by herself in the bathroom at 3:18 p.m. The new nurse with the shift change came in and was talking business to your mom in the middle of it, not very considerate, and she was also ordering your mom to get onto the bed so she could check progress and heart rate. The last place your mom wanted to be during this intense, hard work was on her back in bed. When she tried to tell the nurse that, the nurse said, "For the sake of your baby, you need to get on the bed." We all knew that wasn't true and your mom said, "I want a different nurse, then." So that nurse stormed out of the room. I was so proud of your mom, who was determined to bring you into this world following her instincts and what felt natural and right for her body, not by following what others tried to talk her into.

By the time the replacement nurse came, a very, kind, considerate woman willing to check your heart rate while your mom sat on the birth ball, we had stopped timing the contractions. They were too fast. By 3:30, they were about 2-3 minutes apart, but sometimes less. So we went from nothing to hard labor in less than 15 minutes. Your mom was working so hard. She was on her knees, rocking, laying her head and arms on the birth ball. I tried the hip squeeze, successfully, on your mom for a couple of contractions, and then the next one, it made the pain worse, so I stopped that in a hurry and moved by your mom's face to talk her through the contractions, reminding her that she was doing it. Your dad was rubbing her back and encouraging her, telling her she was doing great.

At this point, your mom was in tears, apologizing (unnecessarily) to us because she really wanted the epidural because she didn't think she could do it anymore. I offered a few suggestions - changing positions, shower - but your mom could not consider moving at that point with contractions often not even stopping before starting a new one. The way your mom was talking, I was suspicious that she was in transition. But I asked the nurse anyways to get the epidural order. Of course, before it could be ordered, your mom's dilation had to be checked. And because Dr. Modi wasn't there yet, your mom allowed the nurse to check her. It was 4:15 p.m. and your mom was almost fully dilated. Your dad was right! Hard and fast! The surprise and relief written on your mom's face was priceless. No epidural! Hooray! Your mom did it like she had planned! She was stronger than she thought in those moments.

At 4:20 p.m., the urge to push was strong, so your mom started pushing during contractions. They had slowed down a little, thankfully, so your mom had small rests between pushes.

Dr. Modi arrived and 4:30 p.m., just as the nurse was setting up the mirror so your mom would be able to see you when you started crowning. Your dad held your mom's right leg and I held her left leg for leverage to push against. Your mom had both hands behind her, under her back because the pressure on her tailbone was so intense.

By now, your mom was in primal mode, could only think about pushing you into this world. But for one brief moment, she made eye contact with your dad and whispered, "I love you." And he whispered it back to her. It was so beautiful and there was a surge of love that washed over the room right then.

When you started crowning, your dad announced, "Shellie, he has hair!" And you did! Lots of black hair! A few pushes later, at 4:54 p.m., you, Nicolaus, were born! Dr. Modi laid you on your mom's chest as you started taking your first breaths. Your dad proclaimed, "It IS a boy!" as he prepared to cut the cord. I took a picture of that. Your mom was kissing the top of your head, telling you she loved you and were beautiful, even though she couldn?t see your face from the position you were both in. The neonatal team took you to the examining table to check you over because of the GBS + risk and the meconium in the water. Your dad went over to the table with you. You were just fine and crying, which was a wonderful sign!

I stayed by your mom while she received a few stitches from Dr. Modi due to a second degree tear.

You weighed 8lb 1 ounce, were 19 inches long and were sucking your little fists like crazy! By 5:25 p.m., 31 minutes after your birth, your mom nursed you for the first time.

I left your little family at 7:20 p.m., when you were 2 1/2 hours old. What a beautiful birth and what a perfect little boy. I'm so honored to have been there and to watch you come into this world. You are precious and loved by your family. I am so glad, Nicolaus, that you are strong and well, and the pride and joy of your parents. I pray God's blessings on you.

Love, Kim

PLEASE NOTE:  All information expressed on the WOMB website and in our workshops, sessions, and/or consultations is to be used for informational purposes only.  We are not providing medical advice as we are not licensed medical professionals.  Therefore, we cannot be held liable for unforseen outcomes.