Midwife assisted homebirth with birthing pool.  This is what is called a VBAC- Vaginal Birth After Caesarean. Krista is a natural birth advocate and chapter director for the organization ICAN- International Caesarean Awareness  Network.  I'm posting this in honour of little Colum's 6th birthday today!  
 
"I can't do it anymore"

I walk outside. 
It's light out, past dawn.  Birds are singing.  One of our neighbours is backing out of their driveway.  There is dew on the car.  I am blind with tears and pain and despair.  I make it out to the car and then another contraction hits.  I'm standing at the car, crying.  "I'm DONE.  TAKE ME IN.  Brett, please... I'm so exhausted, I can't do it... please just let me go in, I'll just have an epidural".  I am lying.  I know what is going to happen.  I am going to go in, get some drugs, and then give in to a caesarean.  And then I am going to wish that I would die during the surgery, and I will never recover. I will decide never to get pregnant again, I will have to renounce my faith, never speak to any of my friends again. "I will regret it for the rest of my life.  But I don't care.  Please let me go."  

AUGHHHHHHH

Breathe

Brett says "okay.  Just let me go get a couple of things from upstairs".  He leaves and I'm left at the car, grabbing the windshield wiper and banging it down on the windshield.  I consider ripping it off.  I consider making a dent in the hood of the car with my head.  Oh God, here comes another contraction ohhhhAAAAAAUGHHHHHHHHHHHH I CAN'T DO THIS!!!!!!  Brett comes back down the stairs.  He comes outside.  Lauren tells me later that he is crying.  He takes a deep breath and says "It's not time to go yet."  

What?

"No.  It's not time to go.  No."

Brett wasn't listening to my words.  He was responding to what I needed instead of what I was asking for.  And there is no doubt in my mind that this prevented me from sitting here typing with a second scar on my belly.  Here I was, giving up, his only fear about my labour.  And he didn't give up on me.  He didn't give in to me.  He said no.

So I'm grabbing onto the car windshield wipers, crying, begging Brett to change his mind.  "You don't understand, I really can't do this" I whined. "Doesn't he GET IT" I scream in my head "I SUCK AT THIS!"  I am caught.  The contractions continue to be unbearable and I am fighting them and angry and this is definitely not helping.  I hang off of Brett.  My tears are falling on his tee-shirt, I grip him, hold him as if his body alone can keep me aloft on the terrible waves.  I love him so much.  I am so mad at him.  Deep down, so deep down that I can just barely recognize it now as I remember that day; I know that he is right.... that we shouldn't go.  

I flop down on the futon and Meg checks me. This part I don't remember clearly, it goes something like this in my head.  "You're almost

[AUGH PAIN!!! PAIN]

complete, it feels like there's a bit of a

[CAN'T DO THIS I CAN'T I CAN'T]

lip

I'm going to try and hold it

[PLEASE GOD SAVE ME]

back and YES! You're complete,
go ahead and push!  

Once I heard those magic words that I was
complete, I starting pushing.  

The support and love that I got from Brett during this horrible pushing....  I
have to pause for a minute just to see if there are words to speak of it.  I don't think there are.  He believed that there was a baby.  He believed that I could do it.  I was lost in my self-centered world of pain and agony and despair and
self-doubt. But he wasn't.  And it became enough for both of us.  He carried me until I could do it.

And then, I can't quite put my finger on it, but something changed.  A realization came upon me.  And it went something like this.

No one else can push this baby out for you.

No one else can push this baby out for you. You have to do it.  The only way out is through.  You have to do it.  I have to do it.  Me.  No one else can do it. It has to be me.

I still didn't believe it.  But I knew it had to be me.  So I pushed.  I pushed
through that pain.  I now understand exactly what that phrase means.  I want to go back and read through all those birth stories I read when I was pregnant the first time and jump up and down and point and say YES, YES I know what that MEANS now, I really KNOW!  I know what it means to push through the pain of a contraction. 

I did it. 
No one else but me.
My baby.

There's a baby on my chest.

I can't.....

I did.

Who did?

Someone pushed a baby out of me, but it couldn't have been me.  I give up,
remember?  I quit when things get hard.  I never finish what I start.  I'm too much of a suck.  I can't do it.  I could never do it.  Who did it?

I'm in surreal land.  
 
I've birthed my baby.


 
 
 

Being the 10th baby, you would think it would be textbook. Being the 5th unassisted birth, you would think we knew what we were doing. Being a new State and new adventure, you would think we would be ready. Being it was almost time for Neil to go back to work, you would think this baby would have been on time. Being that none of this is decided by me, you would think I would know better than to try to make it on my timetable. Being that once I gave my fears to God, he was ready....and we were too.


I very much felt like a watched pot, having once again gone over my estimated delivery date. This was the furthest though, and soon Neil would have to go back to work. He had taken two weeks off, and we were at the very tail end of it. We had just moved to this new town, new State and new everything, and I was very greatful to facebook for being able to keep in contact with friends and family that we dearly missed, as sometimes I felt very alone. The pregnancy itself was pretty routine, though I did discover things really do get harder when you're over 35! The aches, pains, sciatica, swelling, insomnia and heartburn seemed more intense. That could also have been that we were packing up a whole house to move, driving 19 hours at 35 weeks pregnant (in August!) and unpacking, setting up a house and all the fun that goes with moving 9 kids and a dog to an area that we knew no one.

 
After stressing about having everything ready for the baby, nesting, and trying to keep everything tidy (I need my tidy space!!) and waking up every morning after my due date still pregnant, I had moments that I would worry about the things they tell you will happen if your baby goes overdue; breakdown of the placenta, not enough nutrients to the baby, low amniotic fluid, death, etc. When I had those thoughts for awhile, I was not able to recenter myself.  Then with the added pressure of Neil's vacation time coming to an end after two weeks of waiting for this little one to come earthside, I really had to focus on letting go of the stress and the fear and remember that the baby knew. He knew my stess, he knew my fears, he knew my apprehension, and he knew when he was supposed to be born. *I* was the one that needed reminding. 


I was reminded when I woke up on October 12th with a sense of peace and a feeling that this was the day. The day I would finally meet my child face to face that I had known and grown for ten months. The child that took five pregnancy tests, including the digital one that would finally convince me that YES, that really was a line, and YES, we were really pregnant! Like the births before, I labored inconsistently all day while we got things ready for the baby.  I figured once the kids went to bed, my body would kick into gear, just like the previous 4 unassisted births. I was right. Of course, some of the older kids were excited and wanted to stay up, and some were not very interested in the labor/delivery, and just wanted to be woken up to find out if it was a boy or girl. :) After getting the two little ones to sleep, we started the tub, set the candles around, and I got the laptop ready with music. I labored on and off in the tub with Neil and kids coming in and out for a few hours. I would get hot in the tub and then go sit in the rocking chair by the window watching the moon or Aubrey sleeping, knowing that her world would be changing soon. It always amazes me the feelings that go through your core wondering how you can love something so much and how your heart can hold it all... even knowing the love is so encompassing, that as soon as I see that little being emerge from my body that I would sacrifice anything, even my own life, for him.


Around 2:30am, October 13th, all the kids were sleeping, and I realized that we hadn't taken pictures, so had Neil snap one before getting back in the tub. I got in the tub again, and Aubrey woke up, so I sent Neil to lie down with her. After about 1/2 an hour, I heard him snoring...lol In a way, it was just what I needed to let myself submit to the contractions and talked to the baby that if he was ready, I was too. I had some big baby-coming-down contractions, at which time, I called for Neil to get up (he felt so bad for falling asleep!) and I wanted to get out of the tub and stand (I have stood for the past five kids) to let gravity help, knowing I was in for another pretty big baby. As soon as I stood, I knew it was only a matter of a few contractions before baby was here. Standing at the counter, with a pile of towels and my husband's hands underneath me, the real work began.


I knew he was posterior, or sunny side up, and the first bear down contraction he turned. The 2nd conntraction his head was out, though there was very little amnionic fluid, which was a little concerning, but not much time to worry as he was coming NOW. Next contraction, baby was out, and it was a BOY. I was so excited for Hunter being in the middle of six sisters! Just then, the big girls came in, (yep, my teen boys just wanted to sleep and were content with gender news in the morning!) and welcomed their new baby brother. Time of delivery was 3:50 am October 13th. The same day eleven years earlier I had given birth to a little baby girl (almost half the size of this guy!) Sitting on the step of the stair, he latched on and started nursing like a champ, and we finally got a chance to check him out...this little guy that kept us waiting day after day for his arrival! The kids all checked his fingers and toes while we waited for the placenta. He had very little vernix, but he was pinking up great. After the placenta was delivered, about 10 minutes later, Camryn cut the cord (being they shared a birthday!) and we weighed him with the sling and handy dandy fish scale, and he topped his sister by 4oz, weighing in at 10lb 4oz.

This is a portrait and a birth story written in the mother's own words. 

I planned for a natural labor, and although I was warned that I may not be able to actually give birth in the water, I decided to try. After about 20 hours of laboring with my husband Marcus' support, I took off all of my clothes and slid into the warmth of the tub. My midwife KS coached me from the side, reminding me to relax, to untense, and to let the contractions do their job – to open me up, to widen me out. Now was not the time to tense, to close up.

Things accelerated very quickly. I went from 6cm to 8cm to 9cm in almost no time at all. Eventually I was just short of 10cm, except for a little lip in my cervix that was in the way of the baby’s head. KS kept a finger inside of my cervix, holding that lip down, while I pushed. And after several attempts she said the magic words to the nurse: "She’s at ten centimeters."

Instead of waiting and letting my body do the work for me, I suddenly had work to do. Realizing at that moment exactly what I had to do – that I had to push this baby OUT – was terrifying. I was way, way, WAY past the point of no return. I felt like very little was in my control at this point, and for a person like me, that is scary. The only thing I could do was to push or to not push – and to not push would only postpone the inevitable. It wouldn’t change a damn thing in the end.

There was a full-length mirror on the ceiling above the birthing tub. I watched myself in it as I dilated, and I watched myself as I pushed. I don’t really have the words to describe what it was like to witness my labor from that point of view, except to say that I hope fervently to be able to do the same with the rest of my children. Towards the end of my pregnancy, as my belly grew, I’d developed a habit of just looking at myself in the mirror several times a day. It was so strange to see how my body had warped and changed, it was fascinating to look at myself and see almost a stranger. Watching myself give birth was like that, only magnified a thousand times. It was like watching a stranger, and it was a struggle to reconcile the fact that the body in the mirror was actually, really mine. The person screaming and writhing in the tub was really me. What I saw in the mirror remains the most vivid memory of my labor, and it’s the one I recall most frequently.

At ten centimeters, we were down to business. Whenever a contraction came over me, it was my cue to start pushing. When they stopped, I could stop. After each push, I asked Marcus and KS what they’d seen, what had just happened. "I can see the top of your baby’s head," KS told me. I asked her if there was any hair, and she said yes, lots of it. I smiled at Marcus and said, "Told you so."

KS then told me, "You can reach down and feel it." And so I did. It was a beyond strange, to feel soft, thin, silky hair where normally there was, well, my vagina. I gently touched the top of my child’s head while she was still inside of me – touched her for the first time! – and it was soon afterward that KS called the nurse into the birthing room to tell her that in a few more pushes, the baby would be here.

The last pushes were difficult. Even with KS massaging my perineum and doing what she could to stretch me open even further, it was difficult. It hurt. It burned. I could feel her head stretching me open with every push and I SCREAMED with the pain. And finally, her head was out! I looked down and could see it between my legs. KS yelled at me "Push again! NOW!" and I looked up above me, into the mirror at myself and my child, and I pushed one last time. And then she was out.

I looked down again and there was a BABY in the water with me! KS placed her in my hands while she messed with her equipment. I stared at her, shocked, as if I’d forgotten exactly what this whole pregnancy and childbirth thing had been about.

Eve Marie was born underwater on August 17th at 1:47am, almost 24 hours after my water broke. With my husband’s support, I was able to have the med-free birth that I have always wanted. I feel really lucky to be able to say that the entire experience, and the end result (who is dozing against me, her breath smelling sweetly of my milk), is absolutely, undeniably, unbelievably perfect.