| I don't even know where to start with this, it's been such a long journey. Because I'm sharing this with multiple groups/lists and I'm not sure who knows what about my past birthing experiences, the brief summary of those is that my first dd Kay was born by planned cesarean due to a birth defect she had, and my second dd Lydie was also a cesarean, but it was after a very sabotaged natural vbac attempt in a hospital (see the 'My Story' link). They flat out lied to us about my progression during labor and her position, among a million and one other fights and scare tactics, and coerced me into a completely unnecessary repeat section. On top of what physically comes along with that, I was also left with PTSD. Knowing we wanted more children but refusing to go through what we did last time, we looked into all of our options, researched everything, and knew that planning a homebirth would be the best and safest choice for our family.
Fast forward, and I'm 40+ weeks pregnant with baby #3. This was by far the best pregnancy so far. My EDD was May 9th, I was active, ate really healthy, went to a chiropractor, and mentally/emotionally, I was still dealing with a lot but I was also at the best point I'd been at since Lydie's birth experience. I wasn't incredibly anxious to get this show on the road until Friday night, May 11, when I had my first 'false alarm.' I was woken up all night with contractions. They weren't horrible, but they were bad enough that I couldn't sleep through them. I did however doze between the contractions, figuring that this must be something so I wanted to be as rested as possible. Well, then morning came and nothing. Bah. I was so discouraged! I had been having contractions on and off for weeks so it's not like that was anything new, but it was the first time they'd actually stuck around and started to become consistent, so I was bummed when they didn't stick.
For the next few days, I continued to have random contractions during the day and be woken up all night by them. I had an appt on Tuesday, May 15, with one of my midwives. I could tell they were starting to get anxious about seeing things progress since they started bringing up 'natural' induction techniques. I made it clear that I didn't want to do anything like that yet and I know it wasn't their intentions, but I did start to feel a little pressured. So I said I'd agree to be checked and that if nothing had been happening we could discuss our options at helping to prepare for/encourage labor, but if some progress had been made I'd just continue to go on as I was. So I did go ahead and let her check me, and I was 1 1/2 cm and about 75% effaced. Cool, I'll take it! So the 'natural' inducers discussion was dropped. That night I was kept up all night with contractions. No matter how hard I tried, the longest stretch of sleep I got that night was a half an hour because my contractions were anywhere from 5 to 30 minutes apart, waking me up each time and taking my breath away. It made for a very tiring night, and at that point, I was discouraged, thinking it'd just be like the past few nights.
Well the next day I woke up and the contractions stuck. I sort of kept it to myself, not wanting to get my or anyone else's hopes up. I eventually told my hubby Todd and my friend Rachel (who was in from out of state to be my labor support) that I'd been having contractions that were not painful, but they were very uncomfortable and I couldn't simply ignore them. I was doing ok though and got everyone settled in for bed and my husband went to work. After everyone was all settled in for the night, things began to pick up. I could not relax and the contractions were demanding some attention. I wasn't needing to vocalize through them, but I was needing to give them attention and focus on breathing through them. I relaxed in the shower, and I called my husband at work. I didn't need him home yet, but I just wanted to give him a heads up that I might be calling and needing him later (all the while still half-believing that these contractions would peter out). I also had him call Rachel to have her come downstairs (I didn't have her cell phone number saved in the phone I had downstairs with me, and I didn't want to go up to her room and wake up her boys who were sleeping) and I gave her a heads-up as well. I wasn't needing anyone quite yet so she went back upstairs to get rested. A little bit later I started to need to vocalize through the contractions so I sort of chanted 'Ooooooooooooooooopen' to myself when I needed to vocalize, did some visualizations, and I sat there and talked with my baby about how excited I was and how I needed him to be strong and work with me. At about 3 a m that morning, I called Todd and told him I needed him home, so he came and helped me work through contractions.
The next morning I called one of the midwives, S, to let her know that I'd been up for awhile with contractions that, although they weren't in a set pattern, were very consistent and definetely demanding attention. She said she'd send her assistant L1 over to come check on me (L1 only lives about 15 minutes away, where as S is almost an hour). L1 came over and checked on me to report back to S. I didn't want to know what exactly my dialation was at that point, but she did tell me that I'd definetely made progress from where I was at my appointment with S the other day. When she checked me I had a good amount of bloody show (something poor Todd was not expecting to see, lol). She stayed a while, massaged my back, and we talked and relaxed. She had to head out but said that S was on her way and that she would come back later.
I can't remember if it was late that morning or early afternoon, but S arrived and I continued to labor. We talked and decided that I'd call Helen, our babysitter/extra doula (she is a doula-hopeful, looking for experience, and was hired primarily for child care but did end up getting in a good amount of birth support experience too as others needed breaks) to come over at around 3 pm (that way the kids would already have eaten lunch and napped, and then she could just take them outside to play). We called Helen and let her know the deal and she got there slightly after 3. It was at this point where I sort of start losing a good concept of time. I continued to labor, mostly in the shower. I was so, so tired from not having gotten much sleep the past few nights due to the contractions, so every once in awhile I'd take a 'break' and doze between contractions, which was very, very difficult. Doing so was very helpful because it helped me get in some much needed rest, but at the same time it was incredibly painful because I'd wake up in the middle of a contraction and not be able to get on top of it. Plus, the only position I was really able to fall asleep during contractions was semi-reclining or laying down, which made the contractions even more painful. But, that's what I did- dozed between contractions for awhile, then woke up and labored awake and actively for awhile, then dozed, then. . . well, you get the idea.
At some point I agreed to let S check me again and when she did I could feel her stretching my cervix. Oh, how I screamed. It was painful enough, laying down to be checked, but the stretching. . . yeeeeeeouch. Did NOT like that. Still didn't want to know the exact number of how far I'd progressed, but she did tell me that I'd made good progress since she'd been there and that we'd probably be having a baby soon! I was so, so excited. I thought, 'Yeah, I'm actually doing this! It won't be long now. . . ' HA. This was at some point Thursday afternoon. She started getting things laid out and ready for a delivery- laying out chux pads and equipment. Kept asking me if I was feeling pushy yet. It was really encouraging, I was so excited! Thought that I must be getting somewhere. . .
I kept going back into the shower as the hot water replenished (the ONLY good thing about hospitals is their never-ending hot water supply!). Todd would stand with me for awhile and we sort of danced in there and he talked to me and said the sweetest things, trying to keep my spirits up and focused.. I tried on all fours for awhile because baby was still pretty posterior (which was INCREDIBLY upsetting to me b/c I did everything 'right' this time around to prevent malpositioning, but (shrugs)). I tried sitting down. I tried on my birth balls (both in and out of the shower). It was really, really hard, but I kept thinking, 'Ok, any time now!' Todd was amazing and kept telling me how great I was doing and how proud of me he was and how much he loved me. Rachel and Helen kept encouraging me and coaching me through the contractions and trying to get me to eat and drink (I had no appetite what-so-ever and was pretty nauseated by even the thought of food).
Night came and I was soooooo exhausted and in sooooooo much pain. I kept going back and forth between resting when I needed to rest, and laboring awake and actively when I felt rested enough to. The night was a blur. Everyone kept rotating so that they could be rested, and it was nice to see some refreshed faces. At some point L1 returned, and my other midwife, L2, and her assistant E arrived over night. I had never met E before, so walking out of the bathroom, butt naked, to an unfamiliar face was very much unexpected, but at that point I didn't care, I was so tired and in so much pain. . .
I remember being in the shower and being really scared of how strong the contractions were, and how much pain I had around my scar area. I had read so, so many stories from vbac women who said that once labor was on, they didn't have a single worry about rupture. Well, that wasn't the case for me. It was a very real worry I had throughout my entire labor. Especially over night Thursday night and throughout Friday, when the pain was just unbearable and I felt like the contractions would never officially end (they'd go up and down, but would constantly stay 'tight' if that makes sense), it was on my mind throughout.
I also had tons- TONS- of doubt. I honestly did not think I was going to do it. I was so discouraged. It was taking so long, it hurt so bad. . . the day before, I felt like I was almost done, being asked if I felt pushy yet, having all of the basics set up. . . if I was supposedly that close, why were things taking so long? I was majorly doubting myself. I began to think about how I'd ever explain to everyone how I gave up, how I transferred, how I ended with another cesarean. . . and I began to accept that in my head. And for those of you who know me and what I went through last time and how that's stuck with me, you know how desperate and discouraged I was at that point to be accepting that. But, on some level, I must have had some sort of clarity, because I didn't say that outloud. I mean, I did very clearly express how discouraged and frustrated I was, but I didn't actually talk about transferring out loud because, even though I was incredibly desperate, at least on some level I had enough sense to know that I did NOT want that and that I would NOT let myself live with that, and I knew that if I had expressed even the slightest bit of acceptance with a transfer, I knew my midwives would have gone with it.
It was at this point where I had completely given up in my head while laboring alone in the bathroom that Rachel came in. She was rested (well, at least to me she was rested :)) and she gave THE pep talk of pep talks (she later told me after the baby was born that while she was resting on the couch, she'd heard the midwives talking about wanting to transfer me to get me some pitocin to pick things up, and that this is was brought her into the bathroom with me to help me avoid that. In retrospect, I remember her mentioning it at the time but she didn't 'threaten' me with it and just kept me going. . . ). I told her I was getting so discouraged and she told me that we were going to get this baby out and that I was doing it and that I would do it. As much as I did NOT want to, she convinced me to eat and drink. We stayed in the bathroom (which was pretty much totally dark; I had only a very dim mirror light on) where she sat on the edge of the tub and during a contraction I'd squat down and she'd support me from behind (yeeeeeeeeeeeeeouch) and then between contractions we'd stand and she helped sway my hips because we were trying to work baby down and get baby in a better position. When we stepped out of the bathroom I felt a lot less discouraged and I feel that was a major turning point in my labor. Had Rachel not come in when she did and said what she said, I probably would have walked out of the bathroom and transferred at that point, and we all know how it would have gone from there. . .
I let S check me early that morning (now Friday) and she told me that I'd made progress and she asked me if I wanted to know how far along I was. . . I said yes, wanting some sort of reassurance that I was getting somewhere. 7. A *** 7. She told me this, probably trying to encourage me, but I was not encouraged by this at all. They kept trying to play up the fact that I'd (supposedly) never made it to 7 before, but I just didn't care. (Again, supposedly. I do believe I'd been at least that far dialated in my previous labor, but given the numerous lies and discrepancies in the records, we'll never know). I asked how far along I'd been last time I was checked (like half a day before this) and she said a 6. At this point I actually felt really misled. When she checked me half a day before she told me that I was getting close and kept asking me if I was feeling pushy yet and got all of the baby basics out and ready! I know it wasn't an intentional building up of false hope, but I just felt SO discouraged, having progressed so little after so long and after such incredible pain and exhaustion. . . I just wanted to yell and scream but instead I sat there and fought off tears until the midwives left the room. It was really, really hard for me to keep going at this point, I just felt shot. We got up and left the room to labor around the house. . . I didn't know why I was even bothering. I felt it was pointless. I wasn't getting anywhere, I wasn't having this baby at home or even vaginally. I kept hearing the midwives say, 'these contractions aren't strong enough to push your baby out' and I'm thinking HOW could they get any stronger? I felt like my uterus was about to rip apart (not exactly the most comforting thought!) and I'd never felt pain like that before. . .
It was hard b/c I kept trying to remind myself that my body was NOT giving up on me, that it just knew when I needed a break and that it was NOT going to quit. It was like the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other- one side telling me my body was doing exactly what it needed to by resting in between and by taking progression slowly, and the other side telling me that I was getting nowhere and that I wasn't going to do it. It was really hard to have this fight going on in my head then. . .
I got back in the shower and it was just me and Todd in the bathroom. I again was so discouraged and just wanting to give up. As I was sitting in the shower I kept feeling a little bit of water between my legs that felt a different temperature than the shower water. I wondered if my water was leaking. I started to feel some pressure in my vagina and I reached down and said to Todd 'I think that's my bag of waters!' He looked down and by the look on his face I knew it was, lol. I told him to go get Rachel but as he went to do that S walked in to check baby's heartbeat and I told her that I was pretty sure I could feel my bag of waters. She looked down and was like, 'Oh, yeah, that's what it is all right!' Todd, being the dork that he is (:)) said he wanted to get a picture so I gave him the ok and he went and get the camera and took pictures of my crotch blowing a bubble, lol. It was really neat. The first pic, you could just barely see the bag showing- it was dark and small. The next contraction the bag was literally bulging way outside of my vagina and it looked yellow, and then the next contraction it popped and literally squirted across the bottom of the tub. It was pretty cool. The midwives who were out in the kitchen said they heard it even, it sounded just like a water balloon popping. Being in the shower made it pretty convenient too lol This also gave me a MUCH needed confidence boost, seeing as I'd been feeling sooooo incredibly down after finding out where I was dialation-wise (bad move on my part! Note to self: if I ever do this again, I am NOT getting checked!).
After the hot water ran out (for the millionth time) I got out of the shower and decided to labor around the house some. L1 walked up to me in the hallway and tried handing me a capfull of little white pills, just saying, 'here, take these.' I asked what it was and she told me it was one of the cohoshes (can't remember which one right now). I declined, saying how I'd heard way too many questionable things about the cohoshes, especially in scarred uteri (the cohoshes were actually suggested to me in the 'natural' inducers discussion, and I just couldn't believe that they were even considering them as an option) and that it was something I just was not comfortable with. They tried telling me it would be ok, but I was just not comfortable with it, and thankfully they didn't push it further. In my head I was kind of frustrated because my waters had just broken on their own and I didn't see why we couldn't wait and see if that would help progression on its own. We then went on to walk up and down the stairs to again try and get baby better positioned and did lots of nipple stimulation. The nipple stimulation killed me, it was awful- but in retrospect I wish I'd started it consistently sooner.
While doing the stairs my water leaked alllllllll over our new upstairs carpet. We literally just put it in like 2 weeks before. Whoops. I actually think it's kind of funny; at least it was clear!
S had to leave because she had some other unavoidable commitments she had to attend to, and she cried as she left because she really wanted to be there with me. We'd become really close during the last half of my pregnancy and I was sad that she had to leave but totally understood.
I was getting lots of great (they didn't feel great! Just indescribably painful) contractions while on the stairs, but it was very tiring to keep going up and down, so we decided to go hang out in the living room while I squatted reeeeeeeeeeally low with Todd behind me supporting me. It was veeeeeeeeeery intense. At some point mid-morning I was checked and declared a 9, sort of. . . because the baby was malpositioned still, he wasn't dialating my cervix evenly, and there was some swelling.
I continued laboring and ended up in the guest room eventually. I was on the bed, pretty spread eagle, with Rachel on one side of me and Todd on the other. I remember yelling at Todd at one point for burping corn dog in my face (which in retrospect I find hilarious) and other than that I just remember pain that I thought would never end. Like I mentioned before, I was staying 'tight' when a contraction was supposed to be over, and it was making me worried that something was wrong, and I just couldn't get a full break between things peaking. It didn't help pain-wise that L2 was trying to massage some EPO and arnica gel into my cervix to help with the swelling and to try and get rid of that last little bit. The pain- oh GOD, the pain! I feel like such a wimp, I just could not get on top of the contractions, and the 'massaging' was. . . awful. (Another note in retrospect: I'm wondering if the cervical swelling would still have been an issue if I hadn't been 'stretched' during labor?)
After what felt like for-ev-er of this I got up off of the bed and turned around into a sort of squat with Todd supporting me. L2 continued to 'massage' my cervix. She asked me what was holding me up here at 9 cm, and I exclaimed that I didn't know because I was READY to be DONE.
They then had me cough at the peak of the contractions to try and get his head down and get that last little bit of cervix out of the way. I swear, that was near impossible. I did my best to cough but it just felt like I was going to rip apart, it hurt so bad! But, I tried to cough the best I could and I pretty much sobbed between coughs. . . I could hear everyone else in the room trying to cough with me. It would get so loud in my head during contractions, and then so calm and quiet in between, it was very surreal. Then a contraction would come, and I'd try to cough, and cry, and moan, and cough, and yell, and cry, and. . .
All of a sudden I felt my baby's head descend. As the head came down, it pushed on my colon and I pooped lol I couldn't help it, it just happened. Todd said it wasn't that bad but I still felt bad knowing that poor L2 had been, um, right there lol. Anyways, L2 poked around in my vagina and said 'Great! Now feel this (poke prod poke)- this is where your baby needs to move to next, you've got plenty of room here in your pelvis, this is where you need to push.' I wanted to say 'Yeah, I know that! Don't need to tell me!' lol but I couldn't communicate. At first I was scared to push, it was soooooo intense, but everyone around me was encouraging and making noises along with me and reminding me to keep my noises low. (Not any obnoxious 'PUSH. . . 2. . . 3. . . 4. . . ' crap that you get in the hospital!) After like the second or third contraction of pushing, I heard the midwives start talking about a position change, and in my head I was thinking, 'No freaking way you're getting me to move ANYWHERE right now!' and there I stayed. It was a relief to push but at the same time it wasn't this big huge relief that I read so many other women talk about. It was more of an emotional relief than anything.
I could feel progress being made with each push. It was so scary and it hurt so bad, and I finally got what everyone meant when they said you just need to push through the pain, so I did. I am VERY thankful that I learned that sooner rather than later. Things would get so loud with everyone cheering, and encouraging me, and moaning and growling with me during contractions, but I could hear Todd talking to me so clearly. I was squatting/kneeling really low (Todd said my butt was pretty much to the ground), hanging off of him. There was no way in the world anyone else there would have been able to hold me up. I swear, I've never felt so physically strong in my life, the force that was behind me as I pulled on him was incredible, I can't believe that came from me.
I could hear Todd talking to me, I could hear the tears in the shaking of his voice. He kept saying, 'You're doing it! We're going to see our baby!' He kept telling me to growl like the bears at our camp. He kept trying to piss me off and get me mad so I'd push even harder by reminding me that I was showing that doctor, that I was pushing my baby out, *** that doctor, I was giving birth to my baby. . . and it worked. Now I know what women who say they made primal noises mean- there's truly no other way to describe how it sounded or felt. I also remember at one point yelling, 'Get out of me!' and I later apologized to my baby for yelling at him :). It was also directed at my one midwife, but looking back I don't know if what I was feeling was her trying to provide counterpressure to keep me from tearing as I pushed, or if it was just how I was feeling as my baby descended.
During a contraction I felt the head come waaaaaaaaaaay down and then move back up at the end of it. The next contraction I pushed and the head stayed down. I don't know HOW I had enough clarity to do so, but I reached down and touched my baby's head. Clinging to Todd I whimpered and cried, 'I just touched our baby's head!' I think that was his first incling of exactly how close we were because where he was at, he couldn't see much of anything. The next contraction, I felt the ring of fire and I remember thinking, 'Ah ha, so THAT'S why they call it the ring of fire!' but at the same time, I didn't think it was *that* bad (in comparison to everything else!) because I knew it would only last for a second, and in a way, I rejoiced and loved having felt it!
His head came out and he started to cry before the rest of him was out. Because of this and some sticky shoulders, they told me to push (the only time I was actually told or directed to push), which was pretty hard because I wasn't really having a contraction at that moment, but then one started right up and at the same time I lifted my right leg (or maybe someone helped me do this, I have no idea, all I know is that my leg was up and I was pretty much standing; I always remember reading others' stories and thinking 'HOW could you POSSIBLY move with a head sticking out of your vagina?' but I guess you just do!) and he POPPED out. Todd said my whole body sort of jerked as he popped out.
In shock, as I turn around I exclaim, 'It's our baby!' I had only pushed for about 20 minutes.
I got turned around and sat down and held my baby. I'm just sitting here bawling as I type this, I held my baby, brand new, all bloody and gooey and slippery and I helped rub his back to get him alert. I never really believed when anyone said that once your baby is out, the pain is instantly gone, but it was. He pooped all over me as I was holding him, and he nursed like 5 minutes after being born. He was born at 3:26 pm on Friday, May 18, 2007.
I was bleeding pretty badly so in the midst of all of this they were doing nipple stimulation and I got a shot of pitocin in the leg, but it didn't phase me. It wasn't until I looked at our first pictures and noticed that Todd was squeezing my nipples in all of them that the nipple stimulation had been going on, lol
Oh yeah, and at some point we looked and found out that he was in fact a he. Our Brayden, a name that means 'brave' and 'from the dark valley.' We all felt it was a boy all along, but at the same time, everyone thought I was having a boy when I had Lydie last time, so I wasn't about to believe it either way until I saw it for myself this time. It didn't even matter though, we would have been happy either way.
My perineum was in tact but I did have two very minor labial splits on either side of my vagina. He had both hands up by his face so he sort of scratched me on his way out. L2 said I didn't really need stitches, but that one or two on each side might be a good idea just because it would make healing quicker (by pulling the edges together instead of waiting for all new tissue to regenerate) and it would help it sting a lot less when the area came in contact with fluids. The only thing I had a problem with afterwards was that it stung up top (where you pee) for the first day or two. That's it. I can't even feel that I have stitches, and my vagina and perineum don't even hurt, it just is still a little sore up top. Even that is nothing, because I was always sore from the catheter for a few days after the cesareans anyways.
Got those couple of stitches taken care of and I asked what time it was- it was around 5 pm at this point. My mom works just a few blocks away so I called her and she asked if she could stop in after work. . . I told her sure. Wow, was she ever suprised! She had no idea I'd even been in labor or anything. She walked in to a house full of women that she was unfamiliar with, and I was laying on the guest bed and I just said, 'Look what I did today!' We cried and I let her hold him while I went and got in the shower. I HELD MY BABY uninterrupted for 2 hours, and it was MY decision when I handed him over. No one asked it or suggested it, it was MY choice. It. Was. Perfect.
When I was in the shower, they weighed him. He looked so much smaller than Lydie (who had been 8 lbs 13 oz, supposedly too big to drop down into my pelvis to dialate me properly), so Todd and I were guessing he was in the upper 7lb to lower 8lb range. As I was sitting in the shower, trying to starting processing things and recover from the shock of it all, Todd came back in and said, 'So how much would you guess he weighs? Would you say, 8lbs? How about 9 lbs? Maybe almost 10?' And I just sit there like, 'What?' He looks at me and says, 'How about 9 lbs, 10 oz?' to which I exclaim, 'No *** way!' lol I didn't believe it! But he was. Todd just stood there and cried and said, 'You showed that *** doctor! You did it!' I wish we would have weighed him before he pooped all over me, we all bet he would have hit the 10 lb mark before defecating everywhere, lol
I got out of the shower and because I'd lost a lot of blood and hadn't really eaten/drank/slept much over the past few days I was really light headed, so I settled in to the bed in the guest room. We ended up having to get rid of the carpet in the guest room because the pushing stage went so quick and I moved the chux pads out of the way while pushing, the carpet got ruined (shrugs). Oh well, it was just an area rug, no big deal. I did cut a piece (not a stained part) of the rug off before it was hauled out to be burned, so at least I have that little keepsake.
Anyways, I sat there, and I ate chicken and brocolli and I drank and I made phone calls and just held and loved him. I called my sister and nonchalantly asked her, 'What are you doing?' She said 'Not much, what are you doing?' and I responded, 'Oh, just sitting here, looking at my baby. . . ' and she screamed and practically flew up here. Same thing with my dad (except he didn't scream :)).
Todd called his parents and asked them if they wanted to come up and go out for ice cream with us. They walked in and I was sitting there, holding a baby. . . suprise! I knew my mother in law was upset that we hadn't told them (or anyone) that we were in labor (and fudged our EDD with everyone) but Todd and I both explained that no one respected our wishes last time, and it was just so much easier and better and less worry for EVERYONE this time doing it this way. She's been too in love with her new grandson to hold it against us really :)
I've been trying to take it easy, but I know I've been overdoing it these past few days. It's so hard NOT to! I feel AMAZING, especially in comparison to how I felt after my sections. I just keep going around the house, saying, 'Look what I can do!' I can stand up straight, I can lay down flat, I can nurse while laying down, I can stand up on my own, I can spit after brushing my teeth, I can cough and sneeze, I can snap my waistband on my pants, I can bend over to pick things up, I can lift my baby. It was even easier to urinate and defecate for the first time after giving birth than it was with my cesareans, and even the bleeding afterwards has been so much lighter! Even better than that, I can remember my baby's first cries, I can still feel how he felt when I first held him, I can still see what he looked like the first time I saw him, I can remember. I can think of his first few days and not have it clouded by pain or medication. I can go shower and instead of hiding in there to sob because I'm so depressed, I can sit in there and cry because I did it.
I think Todd is on just as much of a high as I am. He keeps choking up and saying things like, 'Look at you! You just had a kid and you're sitting up straight, you're awake, you're laughing. . . you did it! I'm so proud of you!' I didn't think it was possible to love this man anymore than I already did. . . but I do. He keeps tearing up when he talks about the experience. I can hear the pride in his voice when he tells his friends and family about it. He's just amazing. He didn't have any reactions like that after Lydie was born. I don't think he realized how much he missed out on, how much we all missed out on, until our HBA2C experience.
I always knew that I could do it, I just never really believed that I would. It's still all so surreal. I had a really good support team, but there is no doubt in my mind that without both Todd and Rachel that I would not have actually stuck it out and done it. I will be forever thankful to Rachel for coming out here and supporting me through this. I know she made a lot of sacrifices to be here and she worked so hard with me during labor and helped out so much with the kids and housework after the birth. And even though there are some things that I was uncomfortable with with my midwives suggesting or saying during labor, I am still very thankful for all of their support and patience throughout this pregnancy and birth. They were willing to give me a chance a not treat me like a ticking time bomb because of my twice scarred uterus. They still supported whatever choices I ultimately made and I didn't have to fight with them like I had to at the hospital last time. They gave me the support, care, facts, freedom, and love my baby and I deserved. Doesn't EVERY mom, baby, and family deserve that?
I'm still really taken back by how much my labor hurt this time (or maybe that's just because it's still so fresh in my head?). I know I didn't make it all of the way through labor last time, but even the parts that I had done before hurt sooooo much more. I don't know if it was due to his poor positioning, or adhesions, or my emotional baggage, or what. And while I'm still waiting for that whole birth amnesia thing to settle in (you know, where you forget about how badly it hurt!) I am kind of glad (now) that it was such a hard labor. It proved a lot to me about just how strong I really am and what I'm capable of. Not that I didn't know this, but it truly showed me just how unnecessary everything that I went through last time was. This will never take away the hurt from Lydie's birth, and in a way it hurts even more to know that I didn't have to go through all of that, but for the first time I can honestly say that I am thankful for the experience. Without it, I never would have come this far, I never would have experienced so much, I never would have known that there was so much to experience. I know that may sound cheesy but it's so true. Do you all hear me- ME- saying that I'm thankful for these past two years of emotional hell? Wow :) The hurt, pain, anger, the desire to make changes is still there, and even more so now, but along with that there is gratitude, peace, and happiness, too.
Brayden Christopher Edward Cooper, born at home, HBA2C, 9 lbs 10 oz, 21 3/4 inches long at 3:26 pm Friday, May 18 2007. And so starts the next chapter in our lives. . .
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