Welcome Baby Grady - Birth Story

The following is a story from a lovely client of mine whose birth was amazing and humbling, in every sense of the words. She has shared her story here, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! (my additional thoughts are in italics).

At about 2am on Sunday November 3rd, I woke up shivering from cold. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so cold. I was convulsing, trembling, my teeth were chattering, and I just couldn't get warm. Jared made a heating pad for me out of one of his dress socks and some rice, put an extra blanket on me, and cuddled me in bed. All of that helped, but I still felt so cold and shaky and had a fever of about 102. At around 3:15am, I asked Jared to give me the trashcan by our bed and I threw up dinner from the night before. I felt better after throwing up and was able to go back to sleep again until about 6am.

It was about two and a half weeks before my due date. My mom had come in town to spend time with me before the baby arrived while Jared went out of town on a business trip. We planned to finish the nursery, get my hospital bags packed, and finish all the preparations for the baby ahead of time.

At about 6 am I couldn't really fall back asleep and I didn't want to keep Jared up, so I took a blanket and went to sleep on the love seat in the living room. While lying out there, I wondered if my water had broken. But I figured I would surely know if my water had broken, so I dismissed the thought. At around 7am I wondered the same thing again. Finally around 8am I knew my water had broken and I was also starting to feel stomach cramps. Never having any Braxton Hicks before, I wasn’t sure if these stomach cramps were contractions or not, since I didn't know what contractions felt like. I laid on the couch and watched TV with mom and Jared, slowly realizing I was probably in labor.

At Jared's suggestion, I called the hospital and spoke with the doctor on call. I explained that I had gotten sick the night before and we thought I might have a stomach bug…but also thought I might be in labor. He suggested that I wait it out and see if the stomach cramps would subside and that maybe it was just a stomach virus. But he mentioned I definitely didn't want to go into labor if I had a virus.

The stomach cramps started worsening and I became convinced they were contractions and that I was in labor. Again at Jared's suggestion, I called Cole Deelah, our doula. We told her we thought I was in labor but that I had gotten sick the night before. She recommended we time my contractions and see if they started becoming longer and stronger and to keep in touch.

At this point, the contractions were becoming painful enough that I crawled back into bed to lie down in the relaxation position taught by our Bradley classes so that I could try to relax through them. Jared came in the bedroom with me and reminded me to relax, gave me the heating sock to help, and timed my contractions. He sat on the other side of the bed with my phone to time the contractions and the Bradley book open to the page that listed out the different stages of labor and their associated sign posts. My contractions were surprisingly regular - about 1:30 to 3 minutes apart, lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute. This was confusing to both of us because we expected the contractions to follow the classic pattern of starting far apart and becoming closer together...mine were already pretty close together for being in such early labor. At around 10 or 10:30am, Jared called Cole again, described my labor symptoms, and asked her to come to the house. She said it would take her about an hour. I felt ready for her to come and help!

I told Jared to keep an eye on your contractions as they wouldn't get closer, but would probably lengthen and strengthen. I mentioned staying upright and perhaps trying a bath or the toilet.
My contractions were getting stronger and more painful. I would lie in bed and try to relax with Jared's help for a while. Then I would go to the bathroom and have a contraction or two in there for a change of pace. Then I would inevitably have one on the walk to or from the bathroom. Jared told me later that I looked pretty pitiful and would plead for him to "help me" when a contraction came. He made sure I was drinking plenty of water and even had me drink part of a fruit smoothie for energy.

During all this, mom pretty much stayed in the living room of our apartment and let Jared take care of me back in the bedroom. I was becoming increasingly more "out of it" mentally and not paying attention to my surroundings. Jared told me when to take a drink or how to relax, he rubbed my back or gave me a heating pad while timing the contractions, and I laid there in pain asking for help and trying to relax. I wasn't aware of what time it was or how much time had elapsed since we didn't have a visible clock in our bedroom, and I think that was a really good thing. Cole arrived and began assessing the situation.

I love that Jared told me later "I was wondering what you were doing just watching. It took me awhile to figure out you were taking it in." Jared was such a great support to you and I loved watching the dynamic that you both worked in together. 

My contractions were getting more and more painful, but she jumped right in along with Jared and began massaging my back through each contraction. She also suggested other positions to labor in, in order to keep me out of the bed and hopefully keep me progressing faster. I labored standing up hanging around Jared’s neck, on the toilet, leaning over the bed, sitting and leaning on the back of a chair…and the whole time Cole rubbed my back and Jared helped me to relax and also massaged me. I remember asking him specifically to stroke my arm at one point during contractions...anything to get my mind off the pain.

You were doing so amazingly and intuitively. 

I remember hearing Jared and Cole talking or whispering quietly while I was laboring but I really couldn't actually hear or comprehend what they were saying. I become increasingly more “out of it” as the pain increased. I just let them know when a contraction was coming and then relied on them for the help to get through it. I was in pain!

You were definitely moving into labor land. A great sign! 

At about 12:30pm Jared made the decision to go to the hospital after talking it through with Cole. They decided that we should head there because Cole estimated I was probably at a 4 or 5cm dilated, and because our recent insurance change might lead to a longer check-in time (and more waiting time for me while in pain). I continued laboring in the bedroom with Cole while Jared packed the hospital bags and then loaded them into the car. (He said this took him a while to do and was stressful, but I don't remember the time seeming long. Since I hadn’t prepared to go into labor for another 2+ weeks, he did a fantastic job gathering up everything for us.) I was in the bedroom with Cole and told her several times “this is terrible.” She responded with “this is productive.” It was a good perspective to keep. I also remember looking at the bed telling Cole multiple times “I just want to get into bed...I just want to crawl into bed...” Thankfully, she and Jared kept suggesting other laboring positions to keep me out of bed and progressing, although I just wanted to crawl into a ball under the sheets.

You did look pretty sad when I encouraged you to stay upright and active. I wanted to say 'go ahead back to bed', but I could also see that this labor was going to demand your movement if it was going to go faster - something else you said you wanted. 

I got down into the car, having a contraction along the way. My mom sat in the backseat and Jared drove to the hospital so well. Thankfully it was a Sunday afternoon with no traffic. The time seemed to fly by for me, thankfully, because I was really dreading that drive knowing that I would be in pain. Before I knew it, we were at the hospital. Jared pulled into the valet parking and I got out. One of the valets went to get me a wheelchair and Jared started unloading the car, but I was already starting to have another contraction. I walked up to the first wall in the hospital and leaned against it during the contraction. I remember seeing people in the hospital lobby and knowing that I probably looked like a wreck, but I didn’t care…I just had to get through that contraction. My wheelchair arrived and Jared took me up to floor 11 to be tested for admittance to the hospital. Up on the 11th floor, we checked in. I felt a lot of pain with each contraction in the wheelchair and just wanted to go back to the hospital room. We gave a hospital admittance lady my new insurance card and then someone wheeled me back to an assessment room. A few minutes later Cole joined us back there. Mom stayed in the waiting room. I remember the walk back to the assessment room was cold because they were walking so fast with my wheelchair down the halls. I just wanted to get there!

In the assessment room they had me change into a hospital gown. Then I got a hep-lock for an IV and the nurses got me into the hospital bed. They put the two monitors on my stomach - one to measure the baby's heart rate and one to monitor my contractions. I was even more mentally “out of it” at this point and I don't remember much happening specifically. I do know that someone checked my progress to see how far I was dilated and they said I was between a 4 and a 5. I felt a little disappointed, hoping that I would be farther along than that due to my pain level. They declared that I was indeed in labor and they would be admitting me to labor and delivery. I went back in the wheelchair and wheeled to floor 9.

As you were being wheeled up, I ran out to let your mom know where we were going. She moved with us to the 9th floor, and settled into the waiting room. 

Once I was in my labor and delivery room, the nurse hooked my monitors up again. Cole and Jared encouraged me to stay out of bed.

You tried a few on your side but it didn't feel nearly as manageable, so you said. So, up you got! 

I labored mostly standing up, leaning on Jared. I hugged him with my arms around his neck and basically just stood there as he rocked with me and encouraged me to relax. Cole essentially spent most of my labor time behind me kneeling or squatting on the floor, rubbing my back and adjusting the monitors. After assessing the monitors for a while, the nurse (Sheena) and the resident doctor (who Jared said looked like she was about 14 years old) said that they were not happy with the baby's heart rate.

And you weren't happy with the resident - lol.  

 It was pretty steady, around 150 bpm. Although it wasn't declining or showing signs of distress, it wasn't increasing with each contraction like they wanted it to.  Cole suggested that I probably just had a pretty laid back baby who wasn't reacting much (turns out, she was exactly right). However, the resident was worried.

Baby wasn't showing any other signs of distress, was moving regularly, and you didn't have a fever - I am an 'innocent until proven otherwise' type of person. So I let them worry about the possibility of risk, and I focused my attention on keeping the monitor on baby (to keep them from getting more worried) and helping you both see another perspective/possibility. I didn't want you to worry until there was a reason to! 

 Since I was laboring out of bed, the baby was moving more with each contraction. This caused the heart rate monitor to lose the heart beat temporarily with each contraction.

Because babe was dipping down into your pelvis with each contraction in a major way ;)

In order to avoid panic or intervention, Cole stayed squatting or kneeling behind me for hours moving the heart rate monitor around with each contraction so that it could keep finding the baby's heartbeat. I couldn't pay attention to what the monitors were saying, but I knew that Jared and Cole were paying attention to each one. Whenever there was anything positive, Jared announced it so that the nurse would know. It was so nice to know that they were in control of the situation since I was just so focused on each contraction.

Just as it should be! :)

Cole and Jared encouraged me to walk and go to the bathroom frequently. This helped labor, but also it was the only time when the nurse and resident allowed me to get off the monitors. It gave a good break from having to analyze each contraction for the baby's heart rate. While in the bathroom once, I remember Jared giving me some orange juice to drink in hopes that the sugar would get the baby's heart rate elevated. I don't think it worked, but I remember being so thankful that he had the juice in there for me.

It was this same bathroom break where the nurse came into the room twice asking what was taking so long. I ran interference both times, buying you just a little more time. I wondered if you may have needed to get away from the beeps and eyes of the birthing room. 

Although Dr. Bolt had previously told me she doesn't allow eating or drinking during labor, Jared had a hospital water bottle filled up and encouraged me to drink the whole time. The nurses or resident didn't seem to mind, and it was so helpful to keep from getting thirsty.

Oh, the resident minded, but the nurse had your back! 

Eventually, it was suggested by the nurse or resident that perhaps the baby’s heart rate wasn’t spiking with each contracting because it wasn’t getting enough oxygen. They decided to give me oxygen in hopes of it helping the baby. I was fine with that. Although inconvenient to hold me up and hold a mask up to my face, Jared did a great job making sure each breath I took was inside the oxygen mask. I didn’t mind, and thought the oxygen was actually nice. It didn’t seem to help the heart rate, though. I was also put on a constant IV in hopes that the fluids would help the baby’s heart rate (it also didn’t seem to work).

After an hour in the labor and delivery room, my progress got checked again. I was at a six. The doctors were encouraged that I had progressed so quickly, but I was disappointed that I was only at a six! I was getting really tired of standing or sitting on the ball for every contraction, but Jared and Cole were so good and constantly encouraged me to stay upright so that the baby would descend faster. I am so thankful for their guidance during the whole labor time, or else I would have just crawled back into bed!

I really felt you were 'under the gun' and on a time clock. They wanted baby born sooner rather than later and I was going to give you every fighting chance to get baby born before they could drop the bombshell. 

I kept laboring and the pain kept getting stronger and stronger. Jared and Cole kept helping me through every contraction, rubbing my back, holding up the oxygen mask, reminding me to relax, encouraging me to keep going, and letting me hang around his neck. Thankfully, I wasn’t able to look at the clock in the room very often, because I think watching the time pass would have been discouraging. I wasn’t mentally aware enough to really think about it too much.

Eventually, the pressure I felt deep down started increasing to almost unbearable levels. Each contraction hurt more than the one before, and the pressure kept building and building.

Oh that glorious moment when you started making 'holding back from pushing' noises! I gave Jared the look and he was encouraged with renewed vigor! He was unwavering in his support and positivism!

Cole encouraged me that this was a good thing and meant the baby was descending. However, I hadn't been checked in a few hours since I was at a 6, so I didn't want to get my hopes up too much. It did feel like progress, but it was so painful I wasn’t sure I wanted to progress much more!

You mentioned at that time that you didn't think you could do it anymore, a sure sign you are almost done. The nurse rallied and reminded you of that, but you only frowned at her and went back to labor land :)

The resident came in and told Jared and Cole that I might be headed for a c-section because of the baby's heart rate issue. I remember being so thankful to hear Jared ask questions back at her, asking why it was an issue if the baby wasn't in distress, etc. I was so at peace knowing that he was taking care of the situation. At the same time, the pain was getting so unbearable I remember thinking to myself “I don't care if they do a c-section, just get this baby out of me!!” I was ready to be done.

The nurse announced that Dr. Bolt had been paged and was coming to the hospital. I was ready for her to arrive because I just wanted labor to be over. It seemed to take her forever to arrive, and I kept asking Jared “where is she? Why isn’t she here yet?” Jared and Cole, and even the nurse, reminded me that it was probably a good thing she wasn’t there yet, because it was giving the baby more time to descend. I still didn't know how far I was progressed, but I knew I had to be getting close.

Your nurse and I knew that you were close to, if not already letting, your body push - you were doing so well! We were buying every minute we could, giving you every last moment to be 10 and ready for when she got there. 

Finally, Dr. Bolt arrived between 5:45 and 6pm. I got back on the bed for her to check my progress.

You hopped off the ball and into bed. The nurse mentioned she thought she saw some meconium, but Dr. Bolt said 'I think you're making things up' with a wink. 

I felt so unbelievably relieved when she announced, much to her surprise, that it was time to push!

And it was then that she also noted you did, indeed, have a lot of meconium present.

Honestly, I figured I would be ready because the pressure was getting unbearable, but I was just so relieved to hear it was true. Dr. Bolt said that she was coming in prepared to give us “the c-section talk,” but instead I got to start to deliver naturally. I was beyond thankful!

Because of the baby's heart rate, and because they found meconium, Dr. Bolt had the NICU team come into the room for the delivery.  This meant that I wouldn't get to hold the baby right away, but instead he or she would get taken to the other side of the room to be assessed. I didn't mind since I just wanted a healthy baby, but I was glad they could do the assessment in the room instead of taking the baby away. About 8 or 10 NICU folks showed up and the room was pretty crowded for me to start to push.

The nurses and Cole got into position, helping hold my legs to my chest for pushing. When the next contraction came and I felt the urge to push, we started. Dr. Bolt seemed surprised and proclaimed “Oh! You know when to push!” (since I could feel the urge and didn't have an epidural).

I pushed for about 12 or 15 pushes. Each pushing session was in groups of 3: I took a deep breath, held it and pushed for 10 seconds, and then did that twice more. Then I rested until the next contraction and urge to push. Everyone was encouraging me as they were marveling at the progression of the baby. I was a little afraid to push hard because I thought it would hurt, but again I was encouraged to push as hard as I could each time. That was helpful for me to hear and to remember. I realized that each push meant I was closer to being done, so then I got excited to push as hard as I could.

At one point, the baby's head was stuck in the birth canal between pushes. Jared said Dr. Bolt was working really hard to keep me from tearing.

She was so patient and helpful - I was very impressed. 

I was impressed that Jared was watching the birth. He told me that he could see the baby's head and I got excited. 

After a few more pushes, the head came out and then before I knew it the baby was born! It seemed so fast to me! Everyone in the room was so excited. I remember seeing a huge spray of brown come out with the baby – the first bowel movement. Dr. Bolt announced “it's a boy!” and Jared and I were so shocked and so happy that we had a son! Grady Robert, 7lb 0.5oz, 20 inches long. A beautiful baby boy!

Dr. Bolt cut his cord and the NICU team whisked him away.

I think she had Jared cut it quickly...

I encouraged Jared to follow them over to the other side of the room to see his son, and he did. Dr. Bolt then stitched me up and it seemed to take a while. Later she informed me that I had a 2nd degree tear, but no episiotomy, so I was thankful. I also lost a lot of blood during the birth; about two times the normal amount. It took a while for my bleeding to slow to normal levels and I had to stay in the labor and delivery room for a few hours longer than anticipated to make sure that I was ok.

Grady was born crying, so that was a good indication that he was a healthy baby. The NICU team agreed, finished their assessment, and was able to leave him with us in our room. They then placed on my chest and I got to hold him. We were so in love!!

Congratulations amazing mama! 

A Birth Story

S was a beautiful and intuitive mama that I had the honor of working with recently. She chose to share her story with me, so that I could share it with you! Thank you so much, S, for this honor. I have interjected a few comments on my perspective, in italics. 

On Tues. Oct. 1st at around 715 am, I started to feel contractions while getting ready for work. I had Braxton hicks toward the end of the pregnancy but these were different. Bh usually felt like tightening sensation...no pain. These were actually a little painful and felt like period cramps. I went into work anyway and timed my contractions wanting to make sure I was in actual labor. 

WTG! I love that you took the advice "ignore labor as long as possible" to heart! :) 

My coworkers thought I was crazy for wanting to stay "just one more hour" and jokingly said I would give birth there. After an hr at work I headed home...yes I drove myself. I woke Victor to let him know I was in early labor and tried to get some rest. I wasnt able to sleep but my body got to rest. Unfortunately I didn't do any of the things I envisioned doing in early labor like dancing, sitting on ball, listening to birth playlist and positive affirmations.  

But you were so intuitive and listened to your bodies needs!  

The contractions picked up that afternoon after being on all fours and sitting on the toilet. we left for the hospital around 3 pm. When I got to the hospital I was 5cm. I was hoping to stay home a little longer but I was happy to be dialating. Doula Cole came to assist very quickly. Her presence was very calming. The contractions slowed once we got to the hospital. 

I was a little nervous that you were heading in too early, and we talked about that. Bottom line, though, I trusted your intuition and, if it told you to go in then, I trusted you! :) I headed out soon after your call.  And good thing too... 

I lacked energy and didn't want to get in any positions other than laying down though i knew it wasn't helping to progress labor. Eventually my mucus plug came out. I was checked again and was still 5cms! However I was 90 percent effaced. I wasn't happy to hear this. Cole suggested I sit on the ball contractions and really starting picking up. I was coupling, tripling and quadrupling. I felt discouraged that my contractions were this intense and I was not more dialated. I asked Cole if this was normal and she said some women completely efface then dialate. I tried to remain encouraged.  

We could see your discouragement, but V was such an encouragement to you, staying positive and attending to you so gently but unobtrusively. You seemed to like lying on the ground where it was cool, because you were feeling so hot. So you moved from the ball to the ground, where I put a mat that you could lay on. I took that as a sign you were really picking it up and heading toward birth and your need to get 'grounded' was evident.  

Through out the labor I managed the pain with low moans and envisioned my body and moans pushing the baby down. I tried to keep my body relaxed during contractions instead of tensing and trying to fight what my body was doing. 

You did so well!  

I made trips to the bathroom feeling I had to have a bowel movement. When the contractions came I could feel my body pushing involuntarily.  

I could hear it, but didn't want to say anything until you were ready to acknowledge it.  

I knew that this was a sign of being fully dilated but I couldn't believe I was. After all the nurse has just checked me less than an hour ago. The second time the involuntary pushing occured it was much stronger and I let out a gutteral scream. This time I knew I was pushing. Cole was waiting outside the bathroom door as her suspicion was that I was pushing.  

Victor and I  had been waiting just outside your door, I knew you were going to move into birthing very quickly and it was already a little bit of a task trying to convince the nurse that I wouldn't let you birth on the toilet :) The moment I heard that first real push, Victor and I gave each other thumbs up, we had just been talking about how you were going to be birthing any moment, and grinned at one another before I went dashing in to you and he went dashing for the call button.  

She told Victor to call the nurse. Melissa was in the room before I could even make it back to the bed. She checked me and said "She ten!".  

Actually, she said "She's complete!". You looked at me and said 'what?'. I said it meant you were 10 and could push. You said 'no way!'. :) 

Words cant express how relieved and excited I felt to hear this. Melissa told me to listen to my body as far as pushing and positioning. I specifically wanted to do spontaneous pushing (uncoached) and Melissa and i had discussed this in our prenatal appts. So I listened to my body and did spontaneous pushing for about two pushes then Camille's heartrate rate dropped. 

Melissa said that I needed to to get her out. I got on to my knees and pushed her out that very next contraction.  

You weren't playing with that push. She gave you the 'go' and you did it! 

Victor attempted to catch her but she came out too fast for him to get gloves on! They past her to me thru my legs cord still attached. I couldn't believe she was here! I couldn't believe I had done it! It was an amazingly euphoric, empowering experience.  

Camille Rae was born Oct 1 at 10:27 pm weighing 6 lbs 5 oz 18.5 in long. She came out very alert and cried immediately. The bag of waters didn't break until she was coming out and was almost delivered en caul which is incredibly rare but completely safe.  

She latched on immediately and nursed for about an hour. I couldn't stop staring at her. I couldn't believe she was here! We had an amazing birth team with Melissa and Cole. Victor was so loving and supportive though I could definitely tell he felt helpless lol. We were so blessed to have a great birth experience and a healthy baby girl! 

You were so amazing mama! 

Sharon's Birth Story - A Mama's Retelling

Alicia was a wonderful mama I had the honor of attending in 2011. Today is her first born, Sharon's, 2nd birthday, and Alicia wanted to share her birth story with you all! She was so amazing and strong, a rockstar! I hope her story is an encouragement to any of you who are looking forward to your birthing time.

Sharon's birth story starts, unofficially, in the middle of the night on Wednesday, September 7, 2011. This was the first time that I had felt any contractions, including Braxton Hicks. At the time, I didn't realize they were contractions because they felt too much like menstrual cramps. I remember recognizing they were there, but they weren't strong enough to wake me up. Thursday night, the same thing happened except they were strong enough to wake me up and keep me awake...every. ten. minutes. Ahren was up with me as well because as first-time-parents, "this must be it!" HA! I kept unofficial tabs on the contractions off and on all day Friday while I finished up last minute chores, errands and meal preparation for post-baby. Luckily the contractions didn't make an appearance until 4 or 5 in the morning on Saturday morning which was great because we needed some sleep. Unbeknownst to us, Friday night would be the last night we were going to get a full, uninterrupted night's sleep for a very, very long time. :)

Ahren and I spent the day Saturday taking it easy and resting. My contractions were all over the place, but the intensity had increased enough that I had to work through them a bit. Its possible that my lack of pain tolerance made them seem more intense than they really were, but I did my best to deal with them without making a big deal out of them. Our midwife, Kellie, taught us that it was best to ignore them as long as possible. This was good advice since we had no idea how long our journey to Sharon would be. We watched some TV shows and even started a game of Monopoly to take our mind off of things. My contractions were anywhere from 3-20 minutes apart all day, but as the evening dragged on they got further and further apart. Eventually, I went 45 minutes without a single contraction then all of a sudden, around 9:30pm I had a 4 minute contraction. Not 4 minutes APART, 4 minutes LONG. THAT got our attention. 

I called Kellie and asked her if that was normal and she told me that "I could be getting started'. She suggested getting in the birth pool. She said if this was the real thing, being in the birth pool wouldn't change the frequency of the contractions, they would just keep coming. On the other hand, if it was not quite time, they would space out and possibly fizzle. I was happy to get in the pool. I knew from the record-setting hot summer we had that water and weightlessness was my friend. So into the pool I went. In a matter of 10 minutes, I had 4 contractions. I don't know about you, but that is not what I would consider slowing down. They had picked right up! Truth be told, this shocked us. We were actually a little concerned that Sharon would be here in no time and without our birth team here to help! Needless to say, we got on the phone with Kellie and let her know we'd like her to come over. We also called and asked Cole, our doula and Nicole, our birth photographer to head on over.

 

Kellie arrived around 11pm. I had gotten out of the birth pool in hopes things would slow down a bit. Kellie listened to the baby's heart beat for a long time, through several contractions. Meanwhile, Cole arrived. After Kellie finished listening to the baby, I asked her to check me to see how dilated I was. 4cm and 95% effaced. I was hoping for more progress, but that wasn't too bad. Shortly after Kellie checked me, our birth photographer, Nicole arrived.

We were up all night working through the contractions. I was having some back labor so Cole showed/taught us to use counter pressure and the double hip squeeze. I moved from the couch to standing to the birth ball to my hands and knees to hanging on and swaying with Ahren. I didn't like sitting on the birth ball because there was too much pressure. Come to find out, that is exactly what I needed to progress but it was too uncomfortable and I didn't understand at the time that it probably would have helped me a great deal. I was feeling frustrated because I couldn't find a good position to get into. Maybe I should have realized that I was in LABOR. I probably wasn't going to be COMFORTABLE until the baby was in my arms. :) 

 

During the early morning hours on September 11th I was starting to feel nauseated. I was in the birth pool but still having trouble finding the right position.

I remember alternating between cracking jokes, enjoying labor and being aggravated. I got out of the pool and was walking around becoming more intentional with my steps.  

Ahren was with me the whole time. Cole and Nicole offered to stay with me so he could take a break, but he refused.  

 

Kenna, our English Mastiff would drift in and out to check on me. I'm not sure if she knew what was going on, but her presence was perfect. Not too much and not too little.

Around 6:00am I asked Kellie to check me again to see how far along I was. I was 6cm and 100% effaced, 7cm during a contraction. I was a bit disappointed that in over 6 hours I had only progressed 2cm. I think my disappointment probably set me back a bit. About an hour later, my contractions started to fizzle. I was feeling very tired and worn out by this point and the fact that my contractions were spacing out again really frustrated me. If I was going to have this baby, then the contractions couldn't go away, they had to keep on coming.

From there Kellie and Cole reminded me that sometimes the labor position that I dislike most or that is most uncomfortable is what gets the job done faster. Kellie wanted me to labor on the toilet since you naturally relax your bottom on the toilet. THAT was really uncomfortable. She wanted me to just sit there through contractions and all but I didn't feel like I could. So we made a little deal. I would sit on the toilet through a contraction, get up and walk through the closet and back around to the toilet just in time for the next contraction. Ahren was with me the whole time while I was walking in circles. He was monumental during my labor with Sharon. I was still tensing up and fighting contractions (not on purpose) and the "release" cue we learned in Hypnobabies did the trick in getting me to relax. Ahren would gently touch my forehead and say "release". The birth team said you could just see the tension leave my body.

I remember expressing some fear about pushing and crowning. I was scared of the pain, which could very well be what was keeping my labor from progressing and what was preventing me from going into "labor land". My birth team got me to talk about it to try and release those fears.

At 8:00am walking the stairs was suggested to me. We were hoping to get Sharon to turn a little bit so I could keep progressing. Next up was the birth stool. I didn't like it much but I kept in mind that what was most uncomfortable was what would help me progress.

Around 10:30am my contractions still weren't where they needed to be so Kellie got me started on some herbs to help regulate them and keep them coming. At this point I was beyond exhausted. Spent. Worn out. Couldn't even keep my eyes open any longer. I needed a break and honestly I was starting to doubt that I would be able to continue with out some help (aka going to the hospital).
I didn't dare say anything to Kellie because if I mentioned it to her, she was obligated to take me to the hospital. I knew there wasn't anything wrong with me or Sharon so I felt comfortable staying home. I was just ready for her to be in my arms!

We had to continue to work to get my contractions to stay regular. In addition to the herbs I was taking, we started using the breast pump for nipple stimulation. My legs were so weak from standing up most of the night. It was almost 1:00pm on September 11th. I decided I wanted to get into the birth pool again to give my legs a break. We continued the nipple stimulation. I asked Kellie to check me again, but knowing the results of the last check, she asked me, "Why? What is the information going to tell you? How will it help you?”. I think she was trying to protect me from disappointment if I had not progressed any further. 

I really wanted to know how dilated I was so that I could guess (yeah, right) how much longer our journey to Sharon would be. Since she didn't want to check me, I decided to check myself! Ha!! Its not like I was experienced at all in cervical checks to know whatever it was I was going to be feeling. But what I felt was not what I was expecting to feel. It was sort of soft. I was hoping to feel a head..which wouldn't have been soft. So, Kellie checked me and said I only had a little lip left on my cervix and that I could start pushing. Oh thank Heavens! Finally! I'd been waiting almost 31 hours for this. Little did I know, I still had a good bit of work ahead of me.

Once again I had trouble finding a position that felt right. I was in the pool and the ability to move around with little effort was so helpful. I eventually found that squatting felt best. Ahren offered me his arms to pull myself into position when I wanted to push. While I was resting between pushes Cole braced my back so I could relax. The pushing phase went very slowly. I felt like I was working so hard but not making much progress. With each push I could feel Sharon's head move down a little but when I stopped pushing I felt her head move back up a tiny bit. I remember asking Kellie how long it would take. She said everyone is individual and it just depends. Not really the answer I was looking for :) 

I eventually started feeling the pressure that I had heard so much about. If I reached down I could feel Sharon's head. She wasn't crowning yet but she was right there. I was scared of the "ring of fire" and I told the birth team this. They were encouraging and said it doesn't last long but there is only one way out at this point. I kept pushing. The ring of fire was pretty intense but nothing I couldn't handle. Sharon's head was born and Kellie noticed the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck. She removed the cord and with the next push her body was born! Ahren helped catch Sharon since he was front and center. My eyes had been closed for the majority of the pushing phase because I was so tired. I reached down in the water to grab my baby and bring her to my chest.

Her cord was wrapped around her neck a second time so it wasn't long enough to get Sharon to my chest. Kellie removed the cord from her neck and I held this long-awaited baby for the first time. 

After Sharon was born she had a little trouble with some excess fluid/mucus in her system. We gave some time to see if she could clear it herself but after a few minutes Kellie felt suctioning her would be the best option.

Even after that, Sharon wasn't turning pink as quick as Kellie would have liked so she gave Sharon some oxygen.

 

All of this happened so fast. Our birth team, Kellie, her assistant Pam, and Cole knew exactly what to do. The worked efficiently and did not seemed stressed at all. In turn, Ahren and I were at ease.

About 15 minutes after Sharon was born, we got out of the birth pool. 

Kellie felt like I may have been bleeding more than she was comfortable with but she couldn't know for sure because I was still in the water. Once I was in bed, about 10 minutes later the placenta was born. Kellie noticed it was not whole and in order to prevent an infection she had to hand-scrape my uterus. It certainly didn't feel good but it was quick. I got a shot of pitocin to help my uterus clamp down and stop bleeding. Kellie told us in our class with her that sometimes these things happen. She doesn't like having to "manage' this part of the process but sometimes its necessary. I definitely didn't think I would be one to experience any of what had just happened. I'm just thankful we had Kellie who knew how to handle everything with out question.

 

Sharon latched on to nurse for the first time and she nursed for 2 hours. I had a little trouble figuring out the best way to hold her that was not only comfortable but helped her to maintain the latch. 

 

At one point Pam, Kellie's birth assistant, and Cole were trying to help me with her latch and positioning. 

After Sharon finished nursing Ahren cut the umbilical cord, about 3 hours after the birth.  

 

Kellie did the newborn exam on our bed with us so we could be a part of it. She explained what she was doing and why.

Ahren and I were right there with Sharon to talk to her and comfort her. She was pretty mad. ;) After her exam, Sharon was weighed. 7 pounds, 8 ounces and 19 inches long. 

 

While Sharon was getting checked out, Pam was getting the herbal bath ready for us. The herbs in the bath would help me heal and would help Sharon's cord fall off. The first herbal bath we had is one of my most cherished memories from Sharon's Birth Day. Except while she was nursing, she had been pretty vocal since her birth. Little did we know this was just a taste of what was to come over the next few months. 

Once I got her ears under the water like Kellie advised, she was calm. 

 

She was bright eyed and so alert just taking in all of her surroundings. She had her little fists right up by her jawline and I could imagine that was her favorite position while I was pregnant with her. It makes sense that she calmed down once her ears were under the water...up until a few hours prior that was all she knew. We continued to take herbal baths together twice a day for the next five or six days. Putting her ears under the water always got her to calm down if she was upset. After a while we got out of the bath. Kellie made sure we were all set up and comfortable in bed and then everyone went home.

I was on such a high from all the birth hormones that I could not sleep despite being up for close to 2 days and having had 3 nights of prodromal labor before labor started. Only a few days after Sharon was born I was already looking forward to the birth of my next baby. I "missed" my labor. Sharon's labor and birth was one of the hardest but most rewarding experiences of my life. I don't believe we would have had such a positive and empowering experience had it not been for Kellie and our doula, Cole. 

They were able to tell what would be best for our situation before I could even begin to figure that out. I was able to labor at my own pace, without feeling rushed. But once it was obvious I was frustrated with my lack of progress they stepped in and let me know what I needed to do. I also believe our exceptional birth experience has to do with us being at home. Had we gone to a hospital, with the lack of progression for so long, I probably would have had an "emergency" c-section. Now that we have had one baby at home there will be no question about where we have our next baby.

The Story of My Birth

I asked my mom to write out the story of my birth, and here I am sharing it, on my birthday!

You were born, September 4, 1979 at 6:18 a.m. You weighed 8.7 lbs. and were 21.5 inches long. You were supposed to be named Rochelle Doreen. But your Dad decided a week before you were born that he liked Nicole Renee better; he had seen the name in the birth announcements in the paper.
When we learned that we were expecting you we were both very excited and hoping that there would be no complications this time around; with your brother I had developed deep vein thrombosis and bedridden for the last 3 months of my pregnancy. The doctor wasn't as pleased as he was very concerned for both yours and my life. He said “if I carried you full term I would not be having any more children”. So, I switched doctors.
Your due date was August 18, 1979, your Great-Grandma Conner’s birthday. On Father’s Day 1979, I fell down a short flight of stairs and started having contractions. I had several days of hard contractions after that but the doctor always said they were just Braxton Hicks contractions so I trusted him.
I was in the hospital for 24 hours on Grandma Conner’s birthday but released when my contractions stopped. I was back in the hospital for another 24 hours on your Dad’s birthday, August 26. This time I had an external fetal monitor, they told me that it was true labor and started to “prep” me for delivery; BUT my contractions stopped again so back home we went.
At the time we lived less than a ½ mile from Grandpa and Grandma Bentley. They babysat your brother while I worked and we often had meals together. The house we lived in needed much repair and we worked very hard to get it into shape. It also did not have a garage so your Dad wanted to add one on. We made plans to put one on the summer you were born. The couple of weeks that led up to Labor Day weekend, your dad and I cleared the spot for the garage, laid the footings and had the floor put in. All day Saturday, September 2 and Sunday September 3 family and friends showed up to help with raising the walls and roof of the garage. Late on Sunday and Monday the siding, window and doors were being hung.
Around noon on Sunday, September 3, while preparing lunch with the wives of our work crew, I noticed that my water was leaking very slowly. I went upstairs and put on a pad then went back down to help with lunch. I didn't tell anyone until about 5:00 in the afternoon while fixing dinner for the work crew. I shared the news with your Dad and Grandma Bentley. She asked me to call the doctor.
The doctor said that I shouldn't have any dinner and that I was okay to wait at home until your brother was in bed but that I had to promise to come to the hospital as soon as I had a caregiver for him. Your dad and I arrived at the hospital about 10:00 on Sunday, September 3.
I was put into a labor room, quite large for those days. It resembled a private hospital room with no equipment. An external fetal monitor was placed on me and I was asked to not leave my bed without assistance. They didn't “prep” me for delivery because I was not having any contractions. They did use some PH strips to confirm that it was amniotic fluid that I was passing. Except for an occasional blood pressure and check for dilation I was left alone for several hours. Your dad slept in the chair next to my bed and I had several hours of good sleep. About 2:00 a.m. I woke up to use the bathroom and while waiting for the nurse to assist me to the bathroom, I realized that I was having a slight contraction. The nurse confirmed that it showed up on the monitor and said that I should continue to rest until morning. He said that the doctor would probably give me something to get labor going strong once he arrived in the morning for his rounds.
Well, you were not going to wait until the doctor got there. Once I was in the bathroom, I the contractions got much harder. I stood beside the bed for a very strong one before they got the monitor back on me. The contractions were quite uneven in both timing and strength, so the external monitor was replaced by an internal monitor. By 5:00 a.m. I was having steady contractions and water continued to trickle during each one of them.
Around 5:45 I called the nurse in and told them that I was needing to push. They told me that I had to wait until I was checked and of course, when checked, they confirmed that I was fully dilated and effaced. BUT I could not push until the doctor arrived. He was in the hospital but with other patients, I was going to need to be prepped and moved to the delivery room before I could start pushing. The nurse left the room to get the doctor. I turned to your Dad and told him that I couldn't hold back pushing and he said then push. I did. He called the nurse, who called the doctor and the doctor arrived about 10 minutes before you were born. I wasn't prepped and didn't make it to the delivery room because there wasn't one available. But you made it out safely by 6:18 a.m.
You were born very quickly, just a few pushes (sorry I don’t remember counting how many). LOL! The doctor handed you to your daddy and as he was adoring you, she was busy checking me internally for tears. At one point she asked that he hand the baby to me to help distract me from what was going on. Once she was satisfied that everything was okay, they took you away to be cleaned up and checked over.
You were not able to return to my room for the next 24 hours as you were placed in isolation due to my water breaking so may hours before your birth. Isolation was essentially a closet with a windowed door, which kept you from the other babies. The entrance was actually in the nursery so we weren't able to visit you. On your second day you were brought to me and nursed for the first time. I wouldn't let them take you back to the nursery. You stayed in my room until we left the hospital. This practice was something new that I wasn't able to do with your brother, two years earlier.
On Sunday, September 5, I started to hemorrhage while showering for church. We went to church but then decided to call doctor when we got back home. At his recommendation, we headed to emergency, leaving both you and your brother with Grandpa and Grandma Bentley. I had an emergency D&C later that afternoon. I was able to return home the next day but had to stop nursing you for a week due to medication. You never really nursed well after that. You weaned yourself and was on formula by 6 weeks. You didn't tolerate normal formula so had to be on soy formula, something I had not heard of before. By the time you were 3 months we had nicknamed you “miss piggy”. 

Thanks, mom, for sharing! And thank you for the gift of birth! 

A Birthstory - Given's Smile

Aimee and her husband were clients of mine over a year ago. Their youngest son's birthday is coming up in just a short while and she wanted to share her birth story with all of you. At the same time, she wanted to give you a change to partner with her family in celebrating Given's beautiful smile and life in a very humbling and life-altering way! I am going to let her share her story, as she does it so beautifully!  

I have been struggling to write this for a year. In three weeks it will have been one year since my Given was born. One entire year has come and gone and I still sit here staring at a blank screen because I don’t know how to begin to tell a story like the one of his birth. It is too big and life changing for words. It has loomed over me begging to be told and I feel that I have failed to tell it properly or do it any justice before I even put pen to paper. I feel like I cannot tell something like this and have it really, really be felt that way I felt it or have it change someone to read it the way it changed me to live it. Above all, I want to tell his story so people who haven’t been there can have a glimpse of it and for those who have been there will know they aren’t alone.

I’ll just start. Details have faded over the past year and all of the ins and outs of labor and lengths of contractions seem so unimportant now. They are the things that add structure and timing to a normal birth story. Markers along the way that help you keep the story in order and allow people to make sense of it when they read it later. My story doesn’t have many of those anymore because all of the order and structure and timing was blown away completely when my doctor said the words ‘looks we have a little cleft here.’ Once those words were spoken all of the letters were blown off the page and flew around the room over my head. For a year I’ve been waiting for them to settle so I can arrange them to make sense but I’m sure now that they won’t. My world has been so deeply and irrevocably changed that it’s impossible to make sense of, or remember clearly what happened that day. What has happened to my family is ultimately too beautiful to ever make sense of. I am sure that I am not that talented as a writer or a thinker.

I’ll begin by saying that I had been ready for our second child since our first was only 6 months old. I dove into the deep end of pregnancy and motherhood - loving every second of my new identity and all that came with it. I wanted to do it all over again, it had been so wonderful and mysterious the first time. It solidified all of my desires to have 4 kids, as soon as possible. To have a house full of screaming, running boys (or girls) breaking things and laughing and making our family complete. My husband, on the other hand, waded in up to his knees and needed a minute to feel out the water. He thought I was joking when I held my 6 month old and said ‘let’s do this again. Like, now.’ He actually laughed out loud. So we waited until I literally felt like someone was missing from the backseat of our car. We would drive and I felt like we had left someone behind. Like our family was bigger than this but they just weren’t with us. We tried again, and got pregnant in 3 months. I was completely elated. I am one of those women who enjoys every minute of being pregnant and having babies. Yes, even when I’m huge and swollen and can’t see my toes. Even when I’m in labor and the pain is unimaginable. Especially when I get to hold a warm, sweet life and know that I helped create this beauty inside of my own body. That in a sense, my body went and made it with no real help from me, except to eat and drink and sleep when I should. It is the most magical thing a woman gets to be a part of; a tangible partnership to be a co-creator with God. I am completely convinced of this.

I spent the first half of my pregnancy trying to find a doctor who would let me deliver vaginally. My first son was born via cesarean after 35 hours of natural labor with a midwife. His birth (apart from the miracle that was him) was the hardest thing I had ever been through. Months of growing him and reading books and looking forward to my very first birth experience, carefully choosing a wonderful midwife and birthing center, reading more books on birth and natural birth and labor, and then working for 35 sleepless hours to make it happen, all to have to deliver in a hospital, with an epidural, in a room full of strangers, and not hold or nurse my baby for 3 hours... I had been heartbroken about this. Thankfully my little man had healed these wounds with a close bond and 2 years of breastfeeding. He was, and is, an extension of my heart. But his birth story had broken me on a level I couldn’t fully access. It had taken away my ideals of birth and made me feel less than capable; less than invincible as a Mama.

I looked so forward to being completely healed. That last tiny bit of me that hurt to think about Ransom’s birth story was going to be erased with this one, I just knew it! I searched Houston for midwives who would let me vbac. Birth centers, hospitals, and finally OB-Gyns. No one. I was shocked and frustrated that what I had thought was becoming mainstream and safe was apparently not an option for me. Then, finally, I found him! Dr Tobey Stevens, although I wasn’t his ‘favorite candidate for a successful vbac’ would let me try. It was all I needed. After all, he was just the baby catcher. I already had a doula (the lovely Cole Deelah, who I felt understood me deeply from our first meeting) and a husband to believe in me and help me get there. I was positive that I could vbac. And, vbac I did.

On June 10th, I woke up in Ransoms twin bed with steady and uncomfortable contractions. It was around 7am. I had been sleeping in his room for the past few nights because he had the habit of climbing into bed with us in the middle of the night. Mama, Papa and Ransom plus Mama’s belly was asking too much of our queen bed, so when he came to our bed, I went to his. I got up thinking it may just be practice contractions. Just a few days before I had seen Dr Stevens and heard him say ‘no progress, but you still have a week until you’re due. I’ll see you in a week and we’ll see how long you want to go before we schedule a cesarean.’ The answer? Indefinitely. I suppose my tiny man heard him say that and decided to make his appearance sooner than later. I was so excited to realize that this was labor! Actual, real, rhythmic, increasingly painful LABOR! All of my waiting was about to become a baby. A baby boy, nonetheless. A brother for my little man, a wearer of the precious hand me down clothes I had kept boxed in the closet. Someone to sleep in the space between my husband and I, and who I could finally touch and smell, and love right out here in the open. I couldn’t wait.

I had looked forward so much to labor this time. I actually loved it the first time around. The pain was manageable and the anticipation was overwhelming. I remember clearly everything I ate, everywhere I walked, how we timed contractions meticulously, when we called the midwife. All of it was seared in my brain just as fresh as if it had been yesterday. It was a beautiful out of body experience that I had looked forward to doing again for a long time. (of course minus the hospital bits I mentioned before) This time around was.... different. Good LORD, it hurt. It was sharp and blunt at the same time. It was in my back, my legs, my arms, my belly. It hurt to breathe or move during contractions. All of the pacing I had planned on doing turned into me sitting as still as I possibly could during those squeezes, as if willing myself to be a human statue would make it hurt less. I breathed as slowly and shallowly as I could because I was pretty sure I could feel my lungs in my back. That’s when I first realized how little I really knew of childbirth. We called the doula, and my husband took some birth video which consists mostly of the soccer game that was on, and nervous pacing through the house and staring into the yard. I do make a short cameo appearance, frozen on the bed in a contraction. We passed most of the day like this. Cole came and helped tremendously. She convinced me to leave the bed and try a bath. With Ransom I had fallen asleep in the tub. This time I felt like I might seize in pain and drown, so I got out. She worked doula magic by slinging my belly with a scarf and gently shifting it back and forth until (I believe) he turned and the pain subsided significantly. I hung from Edward’s shoulders, I hung from a scarf over a doorway, and finally I allowed her to check me.

I remember you wanting to know but not wanting to know - asking how far I thought you were. You asked every question about how far you might be except that one - how far dilated you were. When you finally did ask, it took you a good while to decide you really did want to know. I felt that there was something holding you back from the information.

I had been laboring for 10 hours and was fully expecting her to find me at a 9 so we could make the final trek to the hospital. I wasn’t about to march in there at a 3 and have them mess up the experience for me.

She found that I was at a 2, maybe a 3. I sunk. Ransom’s birth suddenly was all over me. The hours and hours working at home. Going to the midwife to be sent home again. Going back hours later to find no progress. Having my cervix manually opened because it seemed completely lost as to what it was supposed to be doing. 35 hours and a surgery. Please, God, not again. NOT again.

And I believe that that was what was holding you back; the last remnants of another birth were hanging onto you. You went into yourself then, working through things that you didn't articulate to us. But things were definitely changing, and fast. Your contractions were strong and there was a mental giving over/up - just as you had been doing all along with your body; this was crucial.

We decided to go to the hospital in the hopes that being there, where I had decided to be, would speak to my body subconsciously and allow me to progress. We loaded the car and left and the whole way there I prayed and thought and prayed some more. I needed this baby to come out the ‘right’ way. The way I had missed before. The way I had been dreaming of.

When you stepped out of the car, your face was flushed and resolute. This was a different woman.

When we arrived at the hospital, 12 hours into labor, I was a 7. Praise God, this baby was coming out the front door! I was blessed with nurse who allowed me to stay in my own gown from home, and looked the other way (or really didn’t see) when I ate grapes and crackers and drank water. I wasn’t about to fool around with ice chips at this point in the game. My body needed food. And rest - I had been going and blowing pretty hard since 7 am and when 8 pm rolled around I realized that even if I was allowed to push right then I was sure I wouldn’t be able to do it. My mind was engaged, but my body was completely sacked. Somehow I just knew that if I didn’t get real rest before ‘go time’ I would end up in surgery again. There was literally nothing I dreaded more. SO, much to my own surprise I actually asked for an epidural. A partial, because I wanted to move and change positions and be somewhat in control of my body, but an epidural nonetheless so I could rest. So I could vbac. It was a sacrifice I was more than willing to make for what felt to me like certain vbac.

Once the drugs were on board I could rest. I slept for a short time, and Edward took the opportunity to pass out on the mini-couch-chair things they keep in delivery rooms. He looked so horribly uncomfortable when I woke up, but insisted on not folding it out. I’m sure he thought if he folded it out that he would be in a deep sleep when the baby came and would miss it. After a short nap I couldn’t sleep at all. The pain had been numbed and the excitement took over and then my labor completely stalled out at a 9. I mean, stalled for hours. To this day I’m torn about the epidural because if I hadn’t had one it’s likely he would have been born on the 10th, but he probably would have been a cesarean birth which I’m sure would have put me over the proverbial ‘edge’. So, stalled at the very edge of my new life, my doula and I had a slumber party. We talked about my son, and her kids, and this baby who was just waiting at the gate, and we talked about names and why the meanings are so deeply important to us, and life, and we (at least, I) ate those awful hospital rainbow popsicles until the wee hours of the morning, and the later hours of the morning. I would doze off to wake up and see her sitting up still, right next to me. She was a willing and enthusiastic sentinel. She got coffee and snacks for Edward, she rubbed my back, she forgave me for slapping her hand away when pain had taken away my ability to use words. She was incredible. At one point we had a good laugh because she fell asleep sitting in her chair, face down at the foot of my bed and woke up with waffle print on her face from the hospital blanket. It was a well deserved nap that I was glad she took.

That's what I got for sleeping on the job!

I had a stubborn bag of water, so after all of this time it was bulging but still intact and showing no signs of weakness, so I agreed to an artificial rupture. My doctor (who had shown up Monday morning) believed I’d progress quickly if we did that, and turned out to be right. A short time later I was allowed to push, and push I did! God, how I love to push. It’s like that first gasp of air you take after being too deep in the pool - just bursting through the surface and inhaling for all your life is worth. It’s a total release from all of the painstaking work of contractions and a promise that the baby - MY BABY is almost here! A few hours of pushing and he’ll be in my arms, perfect and sweet and suckling at my breast. I could just about taste it. I was also pushing that little epidural clicker for all I was worth - what felt like every 5 minutes to me, and it wasn’t working. At all. I was later told that I only pushed it about every 30 minutes, but good lord it wasn’t working! I could feel my legs and feet again - and I don’t mean numb, tingly feeling, I mean I could FEEL. At the time I wanted anything but to feel all of it, but now I look back and am so deeply thankful that the (originally unwanted) epidural did it’s job of letting me rest, and then backed off so I could also have the feelings of vaginal birth I had longed for. I wanted to know where he was, and how fast he was moving, and feel him join the world for the very first time.

You moved your baby down so fast! And I truly believe it was because you could feel the pressure and a little of the pain.

And I did. I worked, and Edward and Cole worked, and the nurses worked, and Dr Stevens came in just in time to catch my baby boy as he fell from my body and breathed air into his precious lungs for the first time. 28 hours after I woke up in labor, I felt him leave me and arrive all at once, and all at once I was healed of the years of hurt I had endured over a broken birth experience with my first. The physical scar I carried may as well have been erased and I was whole as a mother and as a woman. And then he said it. He spoke the words that broke me all over again. ‘Looks like we have a little cleft here.’

From there my life changed forever, and it’s where the story gets a little fuzzy for me now. I changed, and my family changed so much that I don’t really remember what I was like before those words were spoken. See, Given had been in there just as he was the whole time. He never changed or wavered from who God was making him in my belly, but all of a sudden the baby I had pictured and talked to, and sang to, and loved was ... not what I thought he’d be. He seemed like a stranger to me for just one split second.

I vaguely remember saying something like ‘I don’t care, give him to me.’

You did say 'Give him to me'. :)

Cole took beautiful photos the entire time and I have relived this day over and over through them. This is one of my favorites because of my hand in the left corner. I couldn't wait to have him in my arms.

I wanted to hold him first and although I’m sure it was seconds, I felt like they were hogging him and he was mine. What was taking so long? I wanted to be the one to snuggle and wipe him down, to kiss his head and make him feel safe. They wrapped him in a towel and handed him to me. I remember seeing his little face for the first time. So beautiful and so broken open at the same time. His grey eyes blinked and looked for me, and when we met each others gaze we both knew we would be alright. He was absolutely gorgeous. The gaping hole in the middle of his tiny face broke my heart for him, but I knew we’d be alright. Aside from the wide open cleft that gave him a permanent look of shock, his face was so expressive and inquisitive, and calm. He spoke to me without words and we fell in love. I looked at my husband, and with both of us crying, said ‘he’s perfect. He’s so perfect.’

I love this photo, taken just seconds after we saw him for the first time

It was then that the rest of the room gave a collective sigh and then cried. A beautiful family - joined together for the first time. And it was sacred.

hello papa

Then the questions came. Can he nurse? Does it hurt? Can he take a pacifier? What do we do now? Answers were there for some of them, but not all. ‘You can try’ and ‘no’ and ‘sort of’. My picture perfect daydream of taking him home, nursing him and co-sleeping was shattered. All of a sudden my crunchy, granola, natural mama routine seemed out of date and insignificant. Eating organic wouldn’t fix this cleft. We can’t co-sleep because he can’t breastfeed. I fooled myself for a few days into thinking we could work out a way for him to latch. The nurses knew better. They brought me a pump the first night and I have a love/hate relationship with it to this day. We went through weeks of syringe-feeding and trying different bottles, sleep deprivation, spit up, reflux, worse reflux and gas pain. I had never heard a baby so tiny burp like a man and hopefully never will again. He had such painful, body shaking burps. Because of a 13mm wide complete unilateral cleft (which just means the right side of his mouth is open front to back, all the way into the nasal cavity) he swallowed air constantly. He burned about as many calories as he took in because eating was so much work. But Lord, that boy loved, and still loves, to eat!

Our first night in the hospital was surreal. He slept in my arms and in his little plastic bin next to my bed. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The doctors wanted his blood sugar monitored to check for gestational diabetes. It surprised me because at 8lb, 2oz he was my little baby. I’m pretty sure now they just wanted to see that he was eating something. I made my husband follow him to the nursery and back anytime he went. The nurses could tell I hated to see him go and they graciously let Edward stay right by his side anywhere he went. He passed his hearing test which everyone was happy about because it meant that he wasn’t deaf. He could have been deaf?! We were learning more than we ever thought possible in such a short time. I had been put in touch with a cranio-facial team in Houston and we had appointments set up before we even went home. I had personal phone numbers to keep in touch over the weekend ‘in case we needed anything.’ What could I possibly need that badly?

On the first morning in the hospital he was already beginning to look 'normal' to me and I just couldn't stop kissing that sweet face

In the days and weeks following his birth, we were flooded with love from friends and family. We were also flooded with questions we couldn’t answer, and suggestions and recommendations, and contacts and doctors appointments. We were assured that he’d be fine because this, or that celebrity had a cleft and look at them now. I remember thinking that I wasn’t worried about how he would look. I was worried because he couldn’t eat or speak properly. He couldn’t just be comfortable and nurse himself to sleep. Everything was such hard work. We felt like we were barely treading water and just when I felt my face going under each time I would hold him and he would look knowingly at me, or nuzzle closer into me and it would all be alright again. And then came the smile. That incredible, heart melting, wide smile was worth every millimeter of the cleft. He was my life saver through it all. He was worth every bit of the unknown, and fear, hurt. Because, you see, he brought all of the joy and beauty and wholeness as well. There wasn’t anyone missing from our backseat anymore and that was the most important thing I could imagine.

My boys! For the record, Ransom never flinched. He said he wanted to give him kisses, and afterwards would draw pictures of Given's 'pretty little lips'

And after months of horribly difficult treatments, and pumping exclusively for almost a year now, and a surgery behind us and one ahead, we are in a place that we can look back from and see how much we’ve grown. Given is a gorgeous, mischievous, happy boy who would follow his big brother to the ends of the earth. We call him Tiny because he’s a little guy, but it doesn’t reflect his personality at all. If I had the power to go back and take his cleft away, I wouldn’t. I hate it for all of the hurt and frustration it has causes him and us, but I also know that it is a gift. Without it, he just wouldn’t be him. We wouldn’t have grown and changed and sought God the way we have. We wouldn’t have anything to give to other parents who are surprised with cleft babies in their lives. We wouldn’t have our hearts truly broken for all of the children and mothers and fathers affected by this all over the world. Those changes in us have been deep and are lasting, and they are invaluable to me, just as Given is. In a way they were his, and God’s gift to us.

When I think about his birth now, the one thing that stands out to me the most is what he taught me in the first moments I held him; my first of many lessons from Given. I took him in my arms and kissed him and he stopped crying almost immediately. We said hello to each other and I offered him my breast, not knowing what else to do for him and praying he could nurse. He immediately went to work. He knew exactly what to do and had no idea that his body wouldn’t let him do it. He had no clue that he was anything less than perfect and that’s what made me realize that he was right. He wasn’t anything less than perfect. He wanted to nurse, and I wanted it for him but it just wasn’t meant to be. What I realized by his enthusiasm in that moment was that he was not a victim of his cleft. In his eyes, he was complete and made just exactly as he was meant to be. He knew nothing about deformities or brokenness. All he knew is that I was his Mama, and he was my baby and we were meant for each other.

That is what I think of in the moments of weakness when I want to feel sorry for myself, or for him. He is only a victim if I make him one and he deserves more from me than that. All I need to know and teach him is that I am his Mama, and he is my perfect baby and we are meant for each other. I am truly so grateful that he was meant to be mine.





One year ago our sweet Given was born with a cleft lip and palate. Even with all of the amazing resources we have had at our fingertips, the past year has been (sometimes excruciatingly) difficult in a lot of ways. We have been so incredibly blessed to have access to specialized bottles, pumps, medicines, teams of doctors and emotional support. Given has had everything he could possibly need to thrive and be happy, and is doing incredibly well. He makes us laugh everyday and brings us so much joy.

To celebrate his first birthday, in lieu of traditional gifts, we are asking our friends and family to consider partnering with us in giving a gift to a child born with a cleft that doesn't have the resources they need. It's so easy to change a child's life and it is such a deeply meaningful and lasting gift. Given will have his second surgery on June 14th, just 3 days after he turns one. We are believing that we can raise enough money to provide 2 surgeries for another child by that date. It only costs $240 for one surgery!

Go here to make a donation:
http://support.operationsmile.org/goto/given_sanchez

Here is a video with a little more information about what Operation Smile does:

I hope to see many many smiles changed through the selfless giving of my friends, family, and readers. Let's make Given's first birthday even more amazing (if possible) than it already is! Thank you, family Sanchez, for sharing your journey with us and for allowing me the privilege of knowing your wonderful family.