The Birth of the Boy

This is the story of Phoenix's birth.

It's taken me so very long to get this story out because:

1) baby

2) four year old

3) I hate hospitals and even recounting the birth gave me the heebie jeebies for awhile

4) I have not at all been in the headspace for attempting something beautiful and eloquent... I can't write well when my thoughts are perpetually interrupted by the needs of my little ones so it's frustrating that this isn't going to be well-written. I wrote the rough draft early on but because it's so "meh" of a retelling, I have just had it on the back-burner. So I apologize that it's not written better. It's long-winded and yet I still left so much out. That's what you get for writing in little bursts whenever I could find time!

Here goes...

Our son was born naturally on his due date, January 23rd. This was a total shock to us because it's so rare for that to happen. And having never laboured or given birth naturally before (Sparrow was early c-section), I assumed my body would treat this like a first pregnancy/birth and go past the due date. 

People would ask me throughout the pregnancy when the baby was due and I'd reply, "Well officially it's January 23, but you know how arbitrary due dates are! It could be anytime around then!"

But on a Monday afternoon, on his due date, we became parents to TWO gorgeous littles, almost 5 years apart. 

I was so thankful to not go past my due date, however, as I was having awful back, leg, hip pain since the beginning of my second trimester. It was pretty much six months of slow walking, my legs painfully going out on a daily basis due to my hips opening up in preparation for birth. Besides that annoyance and discomfort, my whole pregnancy was pretty cruisy. I didn't have the serious issues I had with Sparrow (obstetric cholestasis or eclampsia), so though the back pain was awful and sometimes I couldn't walk without chiropractic adjustment coming to my rescue, it was a good pregnancy. 

I still can't comprehend it, really. In the haziness of my postpartum, sleep-deprived state, I haven't really processed it all. I am just in survival mode. As I begin this blog post, he is nearly four weeks old (12 weeks at this new time of editing). Does anyone else feel this way when having a child? It's too marvelous to even comprehend? That, plus the fact that it feels like most days my brain isn't connecting the dots. The electrical currents are getting held up somewhere and not moving through the proper channels to make sense of it all. He's almost 3 months old now as I am editing, and even if I get a good night's rest, I still feel cloudy-headed. Is it the nursing hormones?

Yet at the same time, in many ways it feels like he's always been with us. Before birth, we couldn't wrap our minds around who this kid would be or what it would be like to have another. You get accustomed to your current child & can't picture another. 

Now I look at him and of course he just fits. Normal. We have a son. 

Perhaps it's because for so long, we *knew* we would! At another time I'll have to share that long story of waiting, praying and hearing God's promises through dreams and revelation. 

Ok... onward we go, to his actual birth day. 

THE STORY

Two days before he arrived, I woke up around 4:30am two mornings in a row with pre-labour. I laid in bed for several hours, in a dreamy state of fatigue, timing the contractions with an app & napping in-between some of them. These were different from painless Braxton Hicks, which I had throughout the entire pregnancy with both Phoenix and Sparrow. Tightenings all through the day, every day. 

The painful pre-labour was on Saturday & Sunday morning. During Sunday morning I wondered if the contractions would progress into the day and turn into active labour, but they stopped mid-morning just like they did on Saturday. My mind reeled, wondering when true labour would come upon me! I had an at-home midwife appointment that afternoon. We chatted about when baby would make his or her appearance. I had a peace about the timing of everything, knowing it was in God's hands... but I was still hoping he/she would arrive soon. I knew it could still be two weeks away... I read other women's stories, describing they had pre-labour weeks before they actually gave birth. Saying good-bye to our midwife, I joked about either seeing her really soon or not for two weeks! 

Little did I know, established labour would begin that evening. 

We carried on with our day.. and after putting Sparrow to bed I took a long, hot bath. 

This was around 9pm, Sunday night. 

Then, as I lay contentedly in the soothing water and was just about ready to get out of the tub... POP! 

I felt the strangest feeling inside of me, of something bursting. And it's almost as if I could hear the pop because I was somewhat underwater. It took me by surprise and I was slow to recognize it had been my waters breaking! Having never felt that internal sensation before, it just took a second to register. When you are IN WATER when your water breaks, you obviously don’t FEEL the water on you! All I did was feel the pop inside of me. I stood up and clear fluid poured out of me. I texted Noah in all caps, "NOAH! MY WATERS BROKE!!!!!" (as to not yell and wake up Sparrow in the next room). He rushed into the bathroom. 

HOLY COW. This was it! It hit me... there's no turning back. The moment has come. 

OH. MY. GOSH. 

I had never been in labour before, let alone had a natural birth. We wanted a homebirth with Sparrow but ended up with an unplanned, early c-section. So the thought of me giving birth soon was daunting. 

Through this second pregnancy, I carried so much peace about it & didn't entertain fear or worry the whole time. God had helped me hold captive those negative thoughts... He had spoken over me and this child peace & joy on several different occasions through several different people. And I tangibly felt His peace through the whole pregnancy (and previous two miscarriages). But in this moment, when my waters broke... a teeny bit of fear crept up... knowing labour just comes.. and I can't stop it. There is no running away. I wanted a natural birth & it was a moment of truth. I'd have to face this & get through it. EEEK! 

I looked at Noah and said, "Babe. This is it. Pray for me. There's no turning back! I’m a little overwhelmed at what's ahead!" 

I texted the midwife & doula to let them know to be on alert. My midwife called me in return, and I described how everything was going. I had emptied the bath water & was still sitting on the bath, letting the waters continue to flow out. My amniotic fluid however was starting to change colour. It went from clear to brown-tinged and at times light greenish. I shared this with my midwife and she said she was going to come over to check it out, saying it sounded like meconium and possible signs of infection. Soon enough she was in the bathroom and consulting with the hospital on the phone. They all recommend we pack our things and head over to the hospital now. 

We had planned to labour at home for a good portion of the labour, knowing the relaxed atmosphere would be most ideal to keep me calm and progressing without stress & sterile environment of the hospital. Suffice it to say, we didn't want to rush to the hospital. My biggest concern was the doctors there would want to induce me to make things go faster, because of the meconium. We felt in shock and a bit deflated. 

"Ugh. Why can't we have a normal birth with no hiccups!?" we asked each other. 

However, the midwife reassured us that most likely there would be no induction as I was already having contractions the last few days, my water broke, and I continued to have contractions as I was in the tub. So we took our time to gather everything we would need (I was already packed with the basics but there are always those last minute things to gather) and we called our Kiwi mum to come stay the night & watch Sparrow until we were back home with baby. She arrived shortly after and hung out in the living room while we puttered around getting ready. 

Around 1030/11pm Noah and I arrived at the hospital. It was an easy drive, as I was just having mild contractions. It was peaceful in a way. Not at all what I envisaged, since we had planned to transfer there once I was in active labour. Our doula met us in the lobby and we walked up to my room together, where my midwife already was. She had checked me in before we arrived. 

In the room, we got somewhat unpacked, dimmed the lights, put on quiet worship music and Noah set up some fairy lights in clear jars. Labour began to increase and I leaned on Noah for support. For the first few hours I was smiling and talking and walking around between contractions. 

But pretty soon, into 2am and beyond, I was turning inward and less chatty, staying focused on breathing through the contractions and leaning on the exercise ball or Noah. My midwife took notes the whole labour, while the doula was hands-on, supporting me with encouragement, squeezing my hips and letting me lean on her for support if Noah was taking a short break. 

Because of the meconium in my waters, the doctors on call wanted the baby heart rate monitors on me at all times. Thankfully we were able to compromise and just do occasional checks for the first half of labour. The second half was a different story.

Baby-wise, everything was pretty steady, but once we got into active labour, they wanted to have him monitored all the time. This meant I couldn't walk around or change positions easily as I was stuck sitting or standing next to the machine. Once they asked me to lay down to get a better reading, and it was so painful. I cannot imagine labouring on my back or even sitting up on the bed. A nightmare of pain. Way worse pain than standing, swaying or squatting on an exercise ball. Around this point a doctor also came in to check my cervix. I was so discouraged to learn I was only 2 cm dilated. However, the positive news was I was completely stretched out and effaced, so the midwife and doc assured me that I could potentially dilate really quickly at this stage. 

I was hoping to labour in a birthing tub but none were available. I was so bummed out. I really imagined it would be helpful to me with managing the pain and stress. I did get to stand in the shower for awhile, which was nice, and took a wee bit of the edge off the pain but not much. Noah was there with me. Though it was some comfort, changing into swimsuit and out of it, and drying off, during active labour was pretty hard. Every extra movement on my part actually triggered contractions to come sooner. So I was afraid to move much. So many times I'd have to pause, grab Noah and bear the contractions. 

At this point I started to give up because I was so ridiculously tired. I wanted a break. My body felt like it was shutting down and wanted to sleep for days. I was telling everyone: If I could just get some ZZZZZzzzzzzzz's, I could handle this. 

I had only a little sleep the two nights before and this evening had been awake all night and into Monday midday. My energy was completely gone and I was drifting into the twilight zone of haziness. So I began to ask about pain relief and what was available... we went into this knowing we didn't want an epidural... so they mentioned morphine... but ultimately, I knew I didn't want anything... but it was so, so tempting. Everyone was talking me out of it... and I was so mad... haha. I was concerned that labour had taken so long already and I didn't have energy for the rest of it...  I just wanted a break. 

It's so challenging to be in a situation that you just have to get through but want to be OUT of ASAP.

But somehow I eventually transitioned into a new mental space... hard to describe. I didn't even notice it happen. Somehow I moved into a new state of unknowingly deciding to just get through it & submit to the process. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. It just happened. 

Contractions became much closer together and harder to cope with. They were so close together that I literally couldn't move around the room and was just stuck standing there by the bed and monitor. My legs were starting to get severe cramps from standing in one position for so long. At one point my doula was kind enough to massage some essential oils into my calves to help with the charlie horses. My feet were also swollen from labouring in one position for so long. I began to worry and wanted to move, but because any movement triggered another painful contraction, I just stuck to where I was standing. 

Somewhere at this point, a doctor wanted to monitor the baby with a fetalscope. If you aren’t familiar with it, it’s literally a tiny spiral screw that digs into the scalp to monitor the baby’s heart rate. 

Because I was standing, they could not get consistent heart readings because the monitor kept sliding around. (Side note: it was beyond frustrating to be subject to the monitor and have them fussing over it constantly when I just wanted to have more freedom and not hear them constantly discussing it and fixing it.) Anyway, because they couldn’t get a steady reading, this led to the doc wanting a fetalscope. There was a point where they couldn’t even pick up a heartbeat, so they panicked and insisted on it. I had peace about the birth, so I wasn’t worried. I knew he was fine. I did not want it and did not like the idea of my unborn child being stabbed in the head. But when you are deep into active labour, and in a complete state of exhaustion, your ability to protest and have discussions are no where to be found. They inserted it… but THANK GOD it never attached to his head. Yeah… it didn’t work. And eventually they found the heartbeat with the regular monitor and continued with that method. 

As labour progressed, I was in so much pain. Like I said, contractions came very quickly now. And they were intense. Noah was standing in front of me and I leaned heavily onto him throughout each one. The doula put hot wash clothes on my back and Noah put them on the front. This was my closest form of pain relief I had. Hot washcloths and hand towels. They helped enough to take the edge off of ridiculous pain. I would be standing there, Noah and the doula helping me get through the contraction, then they would walk a few feet away to dip the cloths back into the hot water, and literally it felt like 10 seconds later I would have another contraction and I was strongly urging Noah to get back over to me. I couldn’t bear the contractions alone at this point. 

This went on for hours. Then I was checked again & the doctor announced I was fully dilated. Pretty soon I was feeling new sensations—the baby starting to descend. The first few pushing contractions didn’t hurt too badly. I was initially happy to have been able to discern the change in contractions and say that I felt the pushing happening. The end was in sight! I was standing and allowing baby to descend. But then they became awful and so overpowering. Uncontrollably, I began yelling. The contractions came in waves of three. One. Two. Three. I didn’t have a break in-between the sets. Labour had truly taken over my body and I was just there, trying to stay calm and relaxed while “howling” it out. I did not know I could yell that loudly or that strangely. I cannot even imitate the noises I was making that day. 

I was positive the entire maternity ward heard me.

This went on for nearly two hours. To me, it felt like the baby was making it’s way down. It felt like he or she was nearly ready to crown. At this stage a doctor came in and asked if I was pushing yet. I said yes. She wanted to do a check, and I asked if she could just feel right there as I was standing. I couldn’t move. I did not want to lay down and change the position or have the baby regress. 

She wasn’t “trained” to do it that way, she said. 

Eye roll. Seriously!? 

So I had to somehow get on the bed and lay down during pushing so she could aggressively ram around and feel for what was going on. Literally as I lay there, I felt baby regress backward. Oh my gosh. All my work went backward. I was so frustrated.  Then, as I laid there I had four painful things happen simultaneously. My left calf got a charlie horse. My left hip and leg suddenly had sharp sciatica pain. I had a contraction. And the doc was NOT gently feeling around. OW OW OW I yelled. “What?” said the doc. I couldn’t even get words to properly get out of my mouth during this. I ended up saying, “my leg is asleep”. What!? Yes. Labour brain. It’s a thing. I couldn’t form the proper sentence to explain the four things happening at once. I can just imagine her thinking, “Ok wow, this lady is so dramatic about her leg falling asleep!” My midwife and I had a laugh about it later on when I actually was able to explain what happened.

Ok back to the results. She said baby still had a ways to go. So I got back out of bed for more stand-up pushing. 

Pretty soon after, they were starting to panic around baby’s heart rate because apparently it was not responding the way they liked it to during contractions, so they insisted on intervention. They gave me three options: forceps, ventouse suction or c-section. 

We couldn’t believe our ears. I could feel baby descending and they wanted a c-section! No way. I seriously had so much peace about the birth (his safety and it happening naturally). I wanted to keep pushing normally. But they were pressuring us around his safety and we decided we were OK with a ventouse extraction. I had so little fight left in me at this point because of the exhaustion. Looking back I wish I had had the courage to change positions and squat so I could make room in my hips of the baby to wriggle around and get out of whatever position was making him apparently stuck. But alas, I didn’t have the foresight to do this. 

So the main doctor had me get on the bed, put my legs up in stirrups and thoroughly explained to me what she was doing. 

She explained why an ICU person was there (because he was a meconium baby and could come out in distress from inhaling meconium), she explained that there was someone there to deal with the placenta, she explained that this random guy in the back was an intern observing, and that she was going to give me a shot before inserting the ventouse. Here’s the ventouse, she said. (Let me mention my eyes were barely open at this stage and I would have to consciously make the choice to open them. I regretted opening my eyes to see the ventouse. It was huge.). She went ahead and inserted it. OW. OW. OW. The shot I had received had not kicked in yet, so I felt everything. 

I had several more pushes laying there, as she pulled at the ventouse. My midwife encouraged me to actually push and not just howl. I wasn’t screaming, but breathing/howling as I had read many books about low breathing/yelling is more helpful at keeping you "open" (as opposed to screaming which is unproductive and clenches up the body). I had read about also not pushing too hard and overworking yourself because the body knows what to do... But perhaps it took so long to get baby out because I didn’t really push. Does that make sense?? So at this stage I started shutting up and trying to hold my breath and actually push. It was so hard to do this. I wanted to yell. But looking back, it was actually less painful to push and hold my breath. 

I recall Noah standing to my right and I told him to take some photos. 

Soon, the baby crowned along with the ventouse. This was painful. And I wonder how less painful it would have been without the ventouse taking up extra space around the head. Ugh. I suddenly felt myself tearing and the doctor continued the tearing with an incision to help direct the cut away to the side so it wasn’t a worse tear. Ouch. Again, the shot had not kicked in yet. So I felt everything. Baby’s head popped out and I finally opened my eyes. His little head was right there, just sitting still, outside my body. No movement, just silence. Gooey, bloody, meconium silence. I patted his head gingerly. Then another urge came and I gave a mixture of OWS, RAWRS and GRUNTS as I tried to hold my breath and push him one last time. My eyes were fluttering as they quickly put him on my chest. He was not crying, but making little, gurgley squawks because his throat was filled with gross stuff he had swallowed. 

After 17 hours of labour, our child was placed on my chest and in my extreme fatigue, I could barely keep my eyes open and couldn't lift my arms up enough to even check the gender. 

I just held him/her as he/she locked eyes with me. There was much gurgling and bubbly squawking. After a few minutes Noah and I decided to check the gender. I couldn’t lift my arm, so Noah lifted the blanket to see. I looked down. It was a boy! 

There he was. The child God had promised. The boy He had spoken of. Contentedness fell over me as we lay there snuggling. 

In the background, I birthed the placenta without realizing it. I felt nothing. I don’t know how that is possible. I didn’t have any more contractions. All I remember is being told they were giving me a pitocin shot to help with the delivery. They didn’t ask me. They just did it. I was too fatigued to ask questions. And if you know me, you know that means I was pretty zonked. Next thing I knew someone was showing me the placenta from across the room & the doc was stitching me up. By this time, the shot had finally kicked in so the stitching was painless. 

After awhile, the room became empty and it was just the midwife sitting nearby writing notes and the doula on the other side of the room, quietly observing. They had all been around to help with the baby initially but now moved out of the way while Noah and I got to know our new son. 

Phoenix was born at 3:14pm at the local hospital, after 17 hours of labour. 

He was 8lb 13 oz & 21 inches long (4.01kg & 54cm long), 35cm head. 

He had meconium but came out fine, Praise God!

Giving birth naturally with no medication was so eye-opening. After hearing about birth my whole life and watching a variety of birthing videos (calm, peaceful homebirths, screaming births, medical intervention births, and my own c-section & ICU drama, etc)... I didn't know really what to expect with natural birth because every situation is different. But it was amazing how my respect for mommies went up even more after having done that. It is intense (especially moms with several kids—you are UHmazing!) Seriously. Wow. It's no easy feat. And I don't want to sound negative or bring fear into anyone's mind who hasn't had kids yet... because you CAN do it. And not every experience is the same. But I have to be honest... it's an incredibly hard thing... an incredible situation women endure & have the opportunity to conquer. 

I will briefly summarize the next few days:

EXTREME EXAUSTION.

Two hours of sleep over three days. 

Hospitals & newborns = no sleep. 

Constant checks. Constant interruptions. Regular blood pressure checks because of my eclampsia I had with Sparrow. Beeping in the rooms every time a nurse is called by someone in a different room. So we have beeping ALL NIGHT LONG. ALL DAY LONG. 

Several blood tests for myself and baby because of low sodium. 

They put me on a saline drip. I had no feeling in my bladder from giving birth.

When I finally did “feel” the urge, I let out SO MUCH. Like so much. Because of the IV. We were both monitored closely for sodium levels & then everything stabilized. 

Then they were worried about his high levels of bilirubin (jaundice) and freaked out. Did more blood work and starting scaring us with the possibilities and outcomes. But the next day it all came back perfect and we were released to go home. 

I WAS ELATED. With Sparrow we had been in the hospital for TEN DAYS. This means TEN days with literally maybe an hour of sleep a night. They were constantly in my room and I was trying to nurse a newborn and figure her out in that setting, while recovering from a c-section, and my blood pressure kept rising. It was awful. So we were ELATED this time when we only had to stay an extra night. I could not WAIT to get into my own bed and get some actual SLEEP between nursing! 

So we were released at 10pm Tuesday night. 

Phoenix hadn’t really shown interest in nursing at the hospital and was very sleepy. This is normal for jaundice babies. The nurses were worried but I wasn’t. He had been with us 24 hours and I knew my milk would come in soon and he would be fine. And that’s what happened. Milk came in the morning after we got home. Of course he barely opened his mouth and for two weeks nursing was excruciating, but after two weeks, he was a dream at nursing and we quickly got more comfortable as I continued healing and persisting in his nursing schedule. He slept through the night (9pm-8am) at the end of 7 weeks. We are so thankful for good sleepers and for being introduced to the “Baby Wise” method. I’ll have to write everything out about that on another post. No two babies are alike and we adjust the method slightly for each kid… but it works! THANK YOU MEGAN for lending me this book back in 2012!! Life saver. Seriously. 

We prayed for another child. We prayed for a natural birth. We prayed that I wouldn’t have pre-eclampsia/ eclampsia or obstetric cholestasis. We prayed that I could sleep better this time after birth (I had insomnia after Sparrow arrived)… and God has answered our prayers. We are so thankful!  

I could go on forever on all sorts of tangents about everything I have forgotten to mention about the birth or updates on how we are now... but I'll let you get back to your life. =) 

Thanks for reading.. and we are so thankful for our healthy boy!