ikis84
18-09-2008, 10:17 PM
Elora is now just over 6 months old, has her first tooth and is crawling. I figured it was about time to write down her birth story!
The night before Elora’s birth we had some old friends over for dinner. I totally stuffed myself with the lovely dinner, jokingly saying that I was carb-loading for the birth. I kept telling everyone that I had another two week sto go, btu I just ahd a sense of peace and knowing that we would meet our second baby soon.
That night hubby and I made lovely clumsy, lazy, heavily pregnant love in the spare bed. I felt like I really needed a full nights sleep, so I blissfully drifted off to sleep while DH went to the big bed with our 17mo daughter.
I had a divine deep sleep for a few hours, but at around 4am I was aware of being woken by contractions. I smiled to myself in the darkness. It’s happening.
I stayed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, aware of that all too familiar ache of period pains, knowing that as the morning grew brighter that my body was gently working away to welcome my baby.
When I couldn’t stay in bed any longer, I crawled into bed beside my husband, waking him with a whisper.
“I am in labour” I say, in the same way I did the morning I went into labour with my firstborn.
I gently laboured the morning away, doing chores, baking a cake and playing with my toddler, stopping to hold my belly and breathe through contractions. It was exciting knowing that things were happening. I loved that familiar womanly smell of blood when I went to the toilet, knowing that my body was softening and opening.
I especially loved that there was no hurry for labour to keep going, no clocks to watch, no wondering when I should leave to go to hospital… there was no going to hospital! I had been planning a wonderful homebirth for this babe, and was so happy and peaceful that I did not have to leave the sanctuary of my home. It all just felt so completely and utterly normal and right.
My sister arrived at around 12 to help look after Olivia. Contractions were not consistent but were getting stronger n intensity. We all went for a walk around the block, with me stopping every few minutes to hold onto my husband, hanging off him during contractions. I spent the next few hours knelt over the birth ball, in the shower or checking out JB.
By 4 o’clock I wanted to get in the birth pool. DH started filing it and I couldn’t wait for him to finish – I hopped right in! Bliss. Olivia would come up to me during contractions, splashing water on my and saying “aww”. My little Doula!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329158471/
At this point I started zoning out, retreating into myself. I found the water so relaxing, but had to get out frequently to pee or to walk aournd. The most effective way of dealing the contractions was hanging otn othe safety gate around our slow combustion fire, circling my hips and kind of dipping or squatting at the end of a revolution.
Contractions were not really consistent and I still felt fine between them. This didn’t bother me though. I didn’t care how long it took, I was just taking it moment by moment and really enjoying it all. I felt powerful and strong, and like my body and my baby were working together. I felt immense trust. No fear, just trust in the the process.
My husband was anxious to call Robyn, our midwife and have her come (we gave her the heads up in the morning that things were happening). I would feel like I wanted her there during a contraction, but felt so good afterwards I felt that it would be silly to have her here. Well, that is until the next contraction hit and I grabbed my husband and said “Ring Robyn!”.
Robyn came at around 5pm. I didn’t really notice her come in at this point. She was wonderful. Jus tsitting in the backround, and coming over to help when needed. If DH slipped off to get a drink, she would take over with the counter-pressure on my lower back, or stroking my back, offering drinks and things like that.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329157629/
There was no real noticeable transition. There were a few/several contractions were I was making really high pitched noises, and Robyn reminded me to bring it down, keeping my voice deep, focussing the energy downward. I really noticed a difference doing this – I felt more relaxed and open. I couldn’t really verbalise anything now, but if I could have I would have told Robyn and Dave that I hated them, lol. I didn’t really, of course, but I had a fleeting moment of resentment that I was going through this and they didn’t have to! At one point I started saying ‘no, no, no’ when a contraction was coming. I am not sure if Robyn suggested it or not, but then I changed it around to ‘yes, yes, yes’ welcoming the contraction on. I knew I had to work with my body. Not so much to keep things happening (bub would be born without my cooperation anyway!), but to help me cope with the feelings. I was now kind of laying down in the birth pool, sleeping in between contractions. It felt like ages between contractions, but I am told now that it was only about a minute or so between them. They were still not totally regular.
My internal dialogue went like this:
Uterus:You have to get up and kneel over the side of the pool.
Me: No. I’d rather keep laying here sleeping, thanks. Can’t we have this baby tomorrow?
Uterus: No, I really think you should just get this over with and sit up more. Work with me here woman!
Me: But I don’t wanna! Can’t someone else do it?
I knew I had to change positions, but I didn’t want to! Delaying the inevitable, really. Anyway, I got up and lent over the edge of the pool, and started to feel a little pushy with the next contraction. I had a bit of a feel. Robyn asked me what I could feel (haha, the curiousity got the better of her, lol). I could feel the bag of waters. It felt amazing. Squishy. With the next contraction, I gave a little push, and POP, the waters gushed out into the pool. I gave a satisfied grin and sighed. I could hear Dave and Robyn talking about towels and the dryer. Dave was aksing if he should put the towels in to warm up now, but Robyn said that it would be awhile yet. I wanted to tell him just to put them in now, but I couldn’t get out of my endorphin haze to verbalise anything. Who needs drugs when you have full use of endorphins?! So while Dave was in the kitchen boiling some more water to top up the pool, I could feel the baby moving really low. At this point I didn’t feel like leaning over the side anymore, and wanted to resume my reclining position.
With the birth of my first daughter, I didn’t really get to experience the foetal ejection reflex. I pushed so hard I had broken blood vessels all over my body. I looked like I had been in a fight I was black and blue! This time. Whoa. I didn’t really do any pushing…. my body just took over. I concentrated on just breathing the baby out, to help prevent any tearing. DH hears my birthing noises and comes in with the hot water to top up the pool. He readies his hands to catch the babe (as I had requested).
Ring of bloody fire. Pant. Pant. Pant. Scream as loud as I could, hoping to convey just how much it friggin hurt. Not to mention I had no control of what was coming from my mouth!
Head.
Sigh.
Robyn comes into view. Bub’s hand is up at her face, and Robyn explains that she is just holding her arm in while the body is birthed, to help minimise any damage.
Another contraction. Out comes baby, shooting up to the water surface. Bub is in my arms, then onto my chest.
Oh! A baby! Hello!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329979244/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329157027/
7pm, on the 9th of March, 2008.
Almost straight away, I start to get more strong contractions. These were pretty intense, and I feel pushy again. Robyn checks with the Doppler, jokingly asking if I was sure there was only one baby. I say that there bloody better not be! A push and out comes the huge placenta! Looking nice and healthy.
I start to get cold so fumble out of the pool, into my own cosy bed. Ahhh. My own bed. Reason #4500393 to homebirth.
We eventually look to see if we have a little boy or girl (we didn’t have any scans throughout the pregnancy). It’s a girl! A little sister for Olivia.
Someone made me vegemite toast and a cup of tea, and we had our first breastfeed. I attempted baby led attachment, but in the end I got a little impatient and moved into a position that was a bit easier for bub to access the breast.
If I could sum up the birth in one word, I wouldn’t use the work orgasmic, yet it was very sensual in parts. I wouldn’t use the word ecstatic, though it was thrilling, elating and exhilarating. To sum it up, I would say it was just normal. Normal, joyous birth. The way I wish that every woman and baby could experience it. It was just like any other day in many ways, but it was very special.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329152555/in/photostream/
The night before Elora’s birth we had some old friends over for dinner. I totally stuffed myself with the lovely dinner, jokingly saying that I was carb-loading for the birth. I kept telling everyone that I had another two week sto go, btu I just ahd a sense of peace and knowing that we would meet our second baby soon.
That night hubby and I made lovely clumsy, lazy, heavily pregnant love in the spare bed. I felt like I really needed a full nights sleep, so I blissfully drifted off to sleep while DH went to the big bed with our 17mo daughter.
I had a divine deep sleep for a few hours, but at around 4am I was aware of being woken by contractions. I smiled to myself in the darkness. It’s happening.
I stayed in bed, drifting in and out of sleep, aware of that all too familiar ache of period pains, knowing that as the morning grew brighter that my body was gently working away to welcome my baby.
When I couldn’t stay in bed any longer, I crawled into bed beside my husband, waking him with a whisper.
“I am in labour” I say, in the same way I did the morning I went into labour with my firstborn.
I gently laboured the morning away, doing chores, baking a cake and playing with my toddler, stopping to hold my belly and breathe through contractions. It was exciting knowing that things were happening. I loved that familiar womanly smell of blood when I went to the toilet, knowing that my body was softening and opening.
I especially loved that there was no hurry for labour to keep going, no clocks to watch, no wondering when I should leave to go to hospital… there was no going to hospital! I had been planning a wonderful homebirth for this babe, and was so happy and peaceful that I did not have to leave the sanctuary of my home. It all just felt so completely and utterly normal and right.
My sister arrived at around 12 to help look after Olivia. Contractions were not consistent but were getting stronger n intensity. We all went for a walk around the block, with me stopping every few minutes to hold onto my husband, hanging off him during contractions. I spent the next few hours knelt over the birth ball, in the shower or checking out JB.
By 4 o’clock I wanted to get in the birth pool. DH started filing it and I couldn’t wait for him to finish – I hopped right in! Bliss. Olivia would come up to me during contractions, splashing water on my and saying “aww”. My little Doula!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329158471/
At this point I started zoning out, retreating into myself. I found the water so relaxing, but had to get out frequently to pee or to walk aournd. The most effective way of dealing the contractions was hanging otn othe safety gate around our slow combustion fire, circling my hips and kind of dipping or squatting at the end of a revolution.
Contractions were not really consistent and I still felt fine between them. This didn’t bother me though. I didn’t care how long it took, I was just taking it moment by moment and really enjoying it all. I felt powerful and strong, and like my body and my baby were working together. I felt immense trust. No fear, just trust in the the process.
My husband was anxious to call Robyn, our midwife and have her come (we gave her the heads up in the morning that things were happening). I would feel like I wanted her there during a contraction, but felt so good afterwards I felt that it would be silly to have her here. Well, that is until the next contraction hit and I grabbed my husband and said “Ring Robyn!”.
Robyn came at around 5pm. I didn’t really notice her come in at this point. She was wonderful. Jus tsitting in the backround, and coming over to help when needed. If DH slipped off to get a drink, she would take over with the counter-pressure on my lower back, or stroking my back, offering drinks and things like that.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329157629/
There was no real noticeable transition. There were a few/several contractions were I was making really high pitched noises, and Robyn reminded me to bring it down, keeping my voice deep, focussing the energy downward. I really noticed a difference doing this – I felt more relaxed and open. I couldn’t really verbalise anything now, but if I could have I would have told Robyn and Dave that I hated them, lol. I didn’t really, of course, but I had a fleeting moment of resentment that I was going through this and they didn’t have to! At one point I started saying ‘no, no, no’ when a contraction was coming. I am not sure if Robyn suggested it or not, but then I changed it around to ‘yes, yes, yes’ welcoming the contraction on. I knew I had to work with my body. Not so much to keep things happening (bub would be born without my cooperation anyway!), but to help me cope with the feelings. I was now kind of laying down in the birth pool, sleeping in between contractions. It felt like ages between contractions, but I am told now that it was only about a minute or so between them. They were still not totally regular.
My internal dialogue went like this:
Uterus:You have to get up and kneel over the side of the pool.
Me: No. I’d rather keep laying here sleeping, thanks. Can’t we have this baby tomorrow?
Uterus: No, I really think you should just get this over with and sit up more. Work with me here woman!
Me: But I don’t wanna! Can’t someone else do it?
I knew I had to change positions, but I didn’t want to! Delaying the inevitable, really. Anyway, I got up and lent over the edge of the pool, and started to feel a little pushy with the next contraction. I had a bit of a feel. Robyn asked me what I could feel (haha, the curiousity got the better of her, lol). I could feel the bag of waters. It felt amazing. Squishy. With the next contraction, I gave a little push, and POP, the waters gushed out into the pool. I gave a satisfied grin and sighed. I could hear Dave and Robyn talking about towels and the dryer. Dave was aksing if he should put the towels in to warm up now, but Robyn said that it would be awhile yet. I wanted to tell him just to put them in now, but I couldn’t get out of my endorphin haze to verbalise anything. Who needs drugs when you have full use of endorphins?! So while Dave was in the kitchen boiling some more water to top up the pool, I could feel the baby moving really low. At this point I didn’t feel like leaning over the side anymore, and wanted to resume my reclining position.
With the birth of my first daughter, I didn’t really get to experience the foetal ejection reflex. I pushed so hard I had broken blood vessels all over my body. I looked like I had been in a fight I was black and blue! This time. Whoa. I didn’t really do any pushing…. my body just took over. I concentrated on just breathing the baby out, to help prevent any tearing. DH hears my birthing noises and comes in with the hot water to top up the pool. He readies his hands to catch the babe (as I had requested).
Ring of bloody fire. Pant. Pant. Pant. Scream as loud as I could, hoping to convey just how much it friggin hurt. Not to mention I had no control of what was coming from my mouth!
Head.
Sigh.
Robyn comes into view. Bub’s hand is up at her face, and Robyn explains that she is just holding her arm in while the body is birthed, to help minimise any damage.
Another contraction. Out comes baby, shooting up to the water surface. Bub is in my arms, then onto my chest.
Oh! A baby! Hello!
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329979244/
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329157027/
7pm, on the 9th of March, 2008.
Almost straight away, I start to get more strong contractions. These were pretty intense, and I feel pushy again. Robyn checks with the Doppler, jokingly asking if I was sure there was only one baby. I say that there bloody better not be! A push and out comes the huge placenta! Looking nice and healthy.
I start to get cold so fumble out of the pool, into my own cosy bed. Ahhh. My own bed. Reason #4500393 to homebirth.
We eventually look to see if we have a little boy or girl (we didn’t have any scans throughout the pregnancy). It’s a girl! A little sister for Olivia.
Someone made me vegemite toast and a cup of tea, and we had our first breastfeed. I attempted baby led attachment, but in the end I got a little impatient and moved into a position that was a bit easier for bub to access the breast.
If I could sum up the birth in one word, I wouldn’t use the work orgasmic, yet it was very sensual in parts. I wouldn’t use the word ecstatic, though it was thrilling, elating and exhilarating. To sum it up, I would say it was just normal. Normal, joyous birth. The way I wish that every woman and baby could experience it. It was just like any other day in many ways, but it was very special.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/62116633@N00/2329152555/in/photostream/