“We did a homebirth.
If you’re unfamiliar with that,
that means you take the
hundreds of years of medical knowledge
and you just throw that away…
and ya wing it!”
My mom was supposed to be flying in at the end of the week, but because of how I was feeling we decided on Monday afternoon that she should come sooner. I had had some pre-labor contractions a couple of times the week before and didn’t really think any thing of it at the time, but when I mentioned it to my mom in a phone conversation she was of the opinion that she needed to get here sooner, a good thing too…
Jeff and I went to pick her up from the airport Tuesday night; I was feeling perfectly normal.
The next day me and my mom hung out at the house, talking about birth stuff, food we could prepare before the baby came, essential oils I could try during labor, putting myrrh on the umbilical cord stump, etc. Around 10:45am I started feeling weak contractions on and off.
In the few weeks leading up to this day I felt like my body was saying “not much longer now,” today it seemed like it was saying “Just a little more…” I felt like this could be the end of life as we had known it up to that point and the beginning of the new and exciting albeit frightening new life we were about to meet with.
When Jeff came home for lunch I said to him, “I don’t think it’s going to be much longer now. She feels like she’s going to do something.”
The rest of the day past uneventfully, I made dinner, we all ate, it was tasty. Little did I know that it would be the last meal I would make for the next 11 days.
Wednesday evening Jeff and I were sitting on the couch watching Last man Standing and Bones (not at the same time), mom watched at least one episode of LMS with us before retiring to her room to blog or something. Jeff and I went to bed soon after to giggle under the sheets and not go to sleep when we should because we are adults and now we get to make the rules. Scary, huh?
At 9:00pm the contractions started to become more intense. So I started to keep track.
9:18. 9:23. 9:30. 9:35 and so on until it became too painful for me to just be laying there and I had to get up. It’s now 10:05pm and I am fairly certain it’s the real thing but I’m still not 100% sure. I go tell my mom what’s going on and she told me that if I felt like I should call my midwife then that’s what I should do.
So I went and called midwife Liz and I honestly don’t remember much from that conversation. The gist of it, call back when things get closer together. no! last longer! or was it shorter… I was in labor for Pete’s sake, I don’t remember! Who let me be the one to call anyways?? At this point my brain went “Well, this is where I get off!” and didn’t get back on for about 10 hours. Meanwhile my husband and mother are timing contractions, and at some point someone makes the decision to call Liz back and tell her what is going on. Jeff made the actual call, I do remember that!
A little while later Liz, Julia and Bailey show up and I feel bad for pulling them away from their families and a good nights rest. I don’t think I ever said that out loud but I did feel awful about it.
While they all got their stuff brought in and set out I just swayed to the rhythm of the contractions and held on to my sweet Jeff for dear life.
And that’s what we did for 10 hours. One of the ladies would every now and then check the baby, I would change positions/location, someone would get me water… I did my thing and they did theirs. My husband and my mom supported and encouraged me beautifully ( Mama Kathy, you would have been proud of your son!), and if I ever wasn’t sure about my ability to do something I would look to Liz and she would tell me I could.
I pushed our daughter in to the world at 10:52am and oh how happy was I to have this gooey baby finally in my arms. She hardly made a noise, just laid against my chest and took in her new world.