(My birth stories make more sense if read in order...from Alexandra, Max, Anastasia, then Natalie)
I was pregnant with my fourth child. This was not uncharted territory for me. I had experienced three uniquely different births in the preceding few years, and I felt confident that I knew my body well. I was so sure my baby would arrive in mid November.
The normal ultrasound that we all have in mid-second trimester said that my due date was December 7. I was sure they were wrong. I just felt more pregnant than that! I really thought I had conceived earlier than they thought I had.
Early in the third trimester, I had another ultrasound. They changed my due date from December 7 to December 14. I was not bothered. I still fully believed I was going to give birth in November. I was imagining a Thanksgiving baby.
Mid November came and went. December 7 came and went. Christmas came and went. It was disheartening, and somewhat embarrassing to be so wrong! My little one didn’t arrive until December 29. It humbled me somewhat, and I learned that things are not always as I think them to be.
The day before she was born, I had another ultrasound to make sure she was doing ok, as she was officially 14 days “late”. She was fine, but the ultrasound technician was disturbed, because he estimated her weight at 12 pounds.
Throughout the pregnancy, I had been measuring big. One of my three previous children had been born over eleven pounds, so I was not surprised to be carrying a big baby. But lying there and seeing a worried doctor calling my baby a twelve pounder, well that was not comforting at all.
It had been a stressful month. I was HUGE, and very uncomfortable. I spent each and every day of the holiday season in anticipation of going into labor at any second. By the 29th, I was exhausted.
We were striving for another natural birth, with no drugs, no epidurals, no induction. We wanted nature to take its course. But I did try my best to help nature out! We lived in an apartment right beside a major mall, and I walked many, many miles around that mall that December. We also tried sex, castor oil, nipple stimulation, and had my midwife strip the membranes. I had contractions all month long, most of them painful, but never lasting more than three hours at a time.
My son had been born in a hospital a few years before, with shoulder distocia. He had weighed 11 pounds 6 ounces at birth, and it was a painful experience for both of us. His arm and shoulder had been injured, and I suffered some pretty major tearing. He fully recovered after a couple of years, but the memories were still fresh in my mind, becoming clearer with each hour that brought me closer to delivering this new baby. It was really stressing me out!
Exactly two years before this time, I had delivered our third baby at Andaluz Waterbirth Center in Tualatin, Oregon. It was as near perfect as birth can get, especially after the horrible hospital shoulder distocia we had experienced before. We were thrilled with the midwives and the whole time we spent at the waterbirth center. We really wanted to recreate the experience for this baby, but I was worried. Worried about the baby’s safety, and mine.
The doctors had warned me before that I had better have a C-section if I ever had another baby, just to be safe. I did not want to have a Caesarean, but neither did I want to cause harm to my baby. The pressure from our family members did not help. They wanted us to schedule a Caesarean right away. Our midwives, whom we trusted, encouraged us to let nature take its course.
I decided to give castor oil one more try, and if nothing happened, we would start seriously thinking caesarean.
Castor oil had started labor for me before, and I had tried it several times that month, but all it did was clean house! But I was desperate, so I gave it another shot.
There are several recipes and tips to be found in an online search, on how to get castor oil down without throwing up. But I could not, and still cannot, imagine anyway to consume castor oil unless it is buried in a gargantuan bowl of ice cream. So that’s how I did it. A massive amount of ice cream, three tablespoons of castor oil, and a goodnight’s sleep.
Well when you’re at the end of a pregnancy, there is no such thing as a good night’s sleep! I had just about gotten exhausted enough to fall asleep around 2am. At 3am, I woke up from the effects of the castor oil dessert and spent about 40 minutes in the bathroom. I tried to sleep some more, but could not. Around 5am, my contractions started and I walked the halls of our apartment building until they were too painful to walk through.
At 6am, I called our midwife, we woke up our three kids, and headed to the birth center. I had fond memories of the warm tub of water from my last birth, and eagerly climbed into the tub as soon as it was ready.
The contractions were painful, and I was utterly exhausted. I had about one hour of sleep, and I was still recovering from an awful head cold. I really didn’t think I had the energy to push my little baby out. I panted and huffed and whined and complained, and I’m sure thoroughly annoyed my wonderful midwives. They gently encouraged me, held me up, applied pressure to my back when needed, and were nothing short of angelic in my eyes.
Some women moan, some scream, some cry, and some make no sound. I don’t remember doing anything but breathing hard until the last few minutes before she was born. Near the end, the contractions became so intense, that I could not help but yell through them with a deep, grunting noise. It was like I had no control over my vocal chords. That was simply the sound that came out on its own.
After a few hard pushes and a few loud grunts, out came one of the most beautiful babies a mother could lay eyes on. She was perfect. My midwife pulled her out of the water and placed her into my arms, and all the pain was gone in an instant. She was finally here, and I was ecstatic! Laying there in the warm water with my baby on my chest is such a treasured memory.
My new little bundle of joy weighed in at 11 pounds, 11 ½ ounces. All the worries of birthing a large baby were for nothing. If I had not been so tired from lack of sleep and the effects of a head cold, it would have been the easiest of my four labors.
The danger was not from me physically pushing out a large baby, but from me being strapped down, flat on my back, pushing a baby uphill, in an unnatural position. When allowed to push upright while squatting, nature took over and there were no complications. I only had one stitch too! It was a beautiful birth.
The normal ultrasound that we all have in mid-second trimester said that my due date was December 7. I was sure they were wrong. I just felt more pregnant than that! I really thought I had conceived earlier than they thought I had.
Early in the third trimester, I had another ultrasound. They changed my due date from December 7 to December 14. I was not bothered. I still fully believed I was going to give birth in November. I was imagining a Thanksgiving baby.
Mid November came and went. December 7 came and went. Christmas came and went. It was disheartening, and somewhat embarrassing to be so wrong! My little one didn’t arrive until December 29. It humbled me somewhat, and I learned that things are not always as I think them to be.
The day before she was born, I had another ultrasound to make sure she was doing ok, as she was officially 14 days “late”. She was fine, but the ultrasound technician was disturbed, because he estimated her weight at 12 pounds.
Throughout the pregnancy, I had been measuring big. One of my three previous children had been born over eleven pounds, so I was not surprised to be carrying a big baby. But lying there and seeing a worried doctor calling my baby a twelve pounder, well that was not comforting at all.
It had been a stressful month. I was HUGE, and very uncomfortable. I spent each and every day of the holiday season in anticipation of going into labor at any second. By the 29th, I was exhausted.
We were striving for another natural birth, with no drugs, no epidurals, no induction. We wanted nature to take its course. But I did try my best to help nature out! We lived in an apartment right beside a major mall, and I walked many, many miles around that mall that December. We also tried sex, castor oil, nipple stimulation, and had my midwife strip the membranes. I had contractions all month long, most of them painful, but never lasting more than three hours at a time.
My son had been born in a hospital a few years before, with shoulder distocia. He had weighed 11 pounds 6 ounces at birth, and it was a painful experience for both of us. His arm and shoulder had been injured, and I suffered some pretty major tearing. He fully recovered after a couple of years, but the memories were still fresh in my mind, becoming clearer with each hour that brought me closer to delivering this new baby. It was really stressing me out!
Exactly two years before this time, I had delivered our third baby at Andaluz Waterbirth Center in Tualatin, Oregon. It was as near perfect as birth can get, especially after the horrible hospital shoulder distocia we had experienced before. We were thrilled with the midwives and the whole time we spent at the waterbirth center. We really wanted to recreate the experience for this baby, but I was worried. Worried about the baby’s safety, and mine.
The doctors had warned me before that I had better have a C-section if I ever had another baby, just to be safe. I did not want to have a Caesarean, but neither did I want to cause harm to my baby. The pressure from our family members did not help. They wanted us to schedule a Caesarean right away. Our midwives, whom we trusted, encouraged us to let nature take its course.
I decided to give castor oil one more try, and if nothing happened, we would start seriously thinking caesarean.
Castor oil had started labor for me before, and I had tried it several times that month, but all it did was clean house! But I was desperate, so I gave it another shot.
There are several recipes and tips to be found in an online search, on how to get castor oil down without throwing up. But I could not, and still cannot, imagine anyway to consume castor oil unless it is buried in a gargantuan bowl of ice cream. So that’s how I did it. A massive amount of ice cream, three tablespoons of castor oil, and a goodnight’s sleep.
Well when you’re at the end of a pregnancy, there is no such thing as a good night’s sleep! I had just about gotten exhausted enough to fall asleep around 2am. At 3am, I woke up from the effects of the castor oil dessert and spent about 40 minutes in the bathroom. I tried to sleep some more, but could not. Around 5am, my contractions started and I walked the halls of our apartment building until they were too painful to walk through.
At 6am, I called our midwife, we woke up our three kids, and headed to the birth center. I had fond memories of the warm tub of water from my last birth, and eagerly climbed into the tub as soon as it was ready.
The contractions were painful, and I was utterly exhausted. I had about one hour of sleep, and I was still recovering from an awful head cold. I really didn’t think I had the energy to push my little baby out. I panted and huffed and whined and complained, and I’m sure thoroughly annoyed my wonderful midwives. They gently encouraged me, held me up, applied pressure to my back when needed, and were nothing short of angelic in my eyes.
Some women moan, some scream, some cry, and some make no sound. I don’t remember doing anything but breathing hard until the last few minutes before she was born. Near the end, the contractions became so intense, that I could not help but yell through them with a deep, grunting noise. It was like I had no control over my vocal chords. That was simply the sound that came out on its own.
After a few hard pushes and a few loud grunts, out came one of the most beautiful babies a mother could lay eyes on. She was perfect. My midwife pulled her out of the water and placed her into my arms, and all the pain was gone in an instant. She was finally here, and I was ecstatic! Laying there in the warm water with my baby on my chest is such a treasured memory.
My new little bundle of joy weighed in at 11 pounds, 11 ½ ounces. All the worries of birthing a large baby were for nothing. If I had not been so tired from lack of sleep and the effects of a head cold, it would have been the easiest of my four labors.
The danger was not from me physically pushing out a large baby, but from me being strapped down, flat on my back, pushing a baby uphill, in an unnatural position. When allowed to push upright while squatting, nature took over and there were no complications. I only had one stitch too! It was a beautiful birth.
1 comment:
Well done! Yes! The danger is trying to push a baby out up hill. I still don't understand why the hospitals do not get that? It is bizarre! I can't wait to hear your birthing experience with the next baby, Hannah.
God bless,
Love Charisse
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