lessons of motherhood

Motherhood is a perpetual series of lessons. They never stop. Every day there is something new to learn and I’ve figured out that even though I’m 2+ years and 2 kids in, the lessons aren’t stopping any time soon. I will always be growing and learning and developing as a Mom. But for now, here are some of the important lessons I've learned.

I’ve learned that no matter how little sleep you get, somehow, someway, you can still look at your baby in the morning and love them, smile at them and perhaps even forget how awful the previous night was. Similarly, you always seem to figure out how to function – even when it seems impossible.

I’ve learned that it doesn’t make me a bad mom to want and need time away from my kids. In fact, I’ve learned that it makes me a better, more refreshed, more engaged mom.

I’ve learned that there are a host of other people in this world who are perfectly capable of taking care of my children. I have learned that Daddy, Grandparents, friends, aunts and uncles are actually able to keep them alive in my absence. They are usually even able to keep them fed, happy and asleep, as well. I still have not learned how to refrain from checking in though.

I have learned that no matter how wonderful it is to get away from them sometimes, coming back is always better.

I’ve learned that showers are optional. And that you can actually wash and condition your hair, scrub your body and shave your arm pits in less than 4 minutes.

I’ve learned that coffee is delicious.

I’ve learned that Jesus was on to something when He spoke of having faith like a child. I’ve learned that my children can teach me more about my faith and my God than I’ve learned in a lifetime of going to church.

I’ve learned that patience truly is a virtue and it’s not always easy to come by.

I’ve learned that children can pick up on so much more than we realize and that they watch what I do as much, or more, than listen to what I say.

I’ve learned that asking for help is okay.

I’ve learned that despite knowing they will all get dragged out again in the morning, the toys need to be cleaned up every single night for the sake of my sanity.

I’ve learned that just when you get a kid figured out, they change it up on you.

I’ve learned that it’s a constant guessing game.

I’ve learned that my children will surprise me daily. I’ve learned that they will never stop amazing me.

I’ve learned so much.

I’ve learned to be a new person. I’ve learned to love in a new way.

And I will keep on learning.

Happy Birthday Gwennie–part 5–the final chapter. Finally

(Part One Two Three Four)

By now we had reached about 5 am, and everyone thought we were getting quite close to show time. The secondary midwife had arrived. Taryn told me she called her a little earlier than normal, because she was that confident that this baby would be here soon.

About this same time, my head started playing tricks on me. Looking back, I think it’s safe to say that she probably would have been born earlier but psychologically, I let things get away from me and started playing mind games with myself. First of all, I started watching the clock. I was nervous about not giving birth before Evalyn woke up and that the closer we got to her normal wake up time, the lighter her sleep would be, and the more likely that the commotion and the noise I was making would wake her up. Needless to say, I did not need to be anxious about these things (here I go again with always needing to be in control of things that are out of my control).

My mom knew that this was a worry of mine, so around 5:30, she whispered in my ear that my Dad had arrived and was parked in the truck outside, just waiting to whisk her away in the event that Evalyn woke up. Yet still, for some reason, I kept thinking in my head that I had to get this done before she woke up.

Along with this, as my labour got more and more intense and I knew we were getting close to the finish line, I just wanted to be done. During Evalyn’s birth, once I made it through transition and had reached completion, I only had to push for 20 minutes before she was born. I envisioned this baby’s birth to be similar. And, so, I kept telling myself that once I started pushing, it would be over. I would be done. My baby would be here.

It was these thoughts that really started tripping me up. It was as though I was willing my body to be ready to push. Thinking that I could make myself be ready. If my body told me it was time to push, it would be time to push and this pain would be over.

So, as soon as I felt the pressure increasing and felt the slightest urge to push, I told my midwives I thought I was ready. They told me to listen to my body and if it was telling me it was time to push, then we would try pushing.

I got back to the bed and got in the same position I delivered Evalyn in – on my hands and knees. Again, I envisioned this working again just as it had for her. I pushed a few times but I could just tell that it was ineffective. I knew what my pushes should feel like if they were going to bring my baby out and I knew that these pushes were wrong. Yet, I continued to push a few times. Finally, I asked Taryn if she thought this was working. She decided it would be best to check and be sure my cervix was fully dilated before continuing in order to avoid unnecessary pushing and avoid potential swelling that could make things harder in the end.

When the student midwife, Rebecca, checked me, she told me hesitantly that I was not complete. In fact, I was only 8 cm. I still had 2 cm to go. Clearly, I was not ready.

Discouraged, frustrated, and tired, I continued to labour in a variety of positions. On the bed, on the birthing stool, on the exercise ball and standing up, with Evan supporting under my arms, practically holding me up. At this point, Taryn suggested I not go back to the toilet because she didn’t want to risk the baby coming out while I was in there.

After a few more minutes, I had myself convinced, once again, that I was ready to push. Again, it was psychological. I knew I wasn’t really ready. But it was getting closer and closer to ‘morning’ time and I just wanted to be done.

This time, I decided to try to push on the birthing stool. I did maybe three or four pushes and once again, didn’t feel as though it was effective. Taryn asked me if I wanted her to check me to be sure everything was ready before I wasted any more energy. I agreed. Again, she told me that I just wasn’t quite there. There was a tiny amount of cervix that still needed to go back before I would be fully ready to push.

This time, it was her suggestion to return to sitting backward on the toilet and breath through some more contractions. We did just that – and let me tell you, that was the most intense, difficult twenty or so minutes of my life. The contractions were right on top of each other and I was having to force myself to breath through them, when my body was trying to tell me to push. Through the entire time we sat there, I needed Evan, Taryn and Rebecca to be there with me through every single contraction. My body was telling me to push. The midwives were telling me to breath through them. Taryn told me to be open and listen to my body. That as long as I physically could breath through the contractions, I wasn’t ready to push. When it was time, I would know. I kept asking her how many more contractions she was going to make me go through. She said she didn’t want to talk about numbers, she hated numbers, and we were going to let my body lead the way. She was sitting behind me, supporting my weight as I leaned back on her through each contraction. Evan was sitting to my right, whispering to me and helping me through each wave. He kept repeating, “Be still and know. Wait patiently for Him. Your babies are your gift” – all things that I had been repeating to myself over and over again for the past 6 hours. Rebecca was on the other side of me, offering her hand to me through each contraction.

Finally, Taryn told me we were going to get through two more contractions on the toilet and then we’d go back to the bed. Once we did this, they lifted me and helped me to the bedroom.

I laid down on my side and once again, she told me she wanted me to breath through a few more contractions. If I felt the need to push, she wanted me to do tiny, grunting, practice pushes, but to try not to bear down. She kept repeating that I needed to listen to my body. My body would know what to do.

By this time, Evan had donned his third pair of gloves because Taryn knew it was important to him to deliver the baby himself, just as he had with Evalyn, so each time we had thought it was time to push, he got ready. I also made it clear that when it was time, I wanted the mirror in sight.

I managed to breath through a few more contractions laying on my side in the bed, having my right leg supported by Megan, the secondary midwife. Finally, my body told me that there was no way I could breath through another contraction. I apologized to Taryn and said, “Sorry, but I’m pushing. This baby is coming out”.

At this point, I had Evan in the tightest headlock known to man, and Taryn later said that she had tried to swap places with him, since she knew he wanted to catch, but that she quickly realized that there was no way she was getting him out of that hold.

With the next few contractions, Megan lifted my leg for me and I pushed, all while watching what was happening in the mirror. I know many women don’t have any interest in watching what is happening, but for me, it was the best decision ever. I was able to put a visual to the sensations I was feeling and push more effectively. I’m confident that watching her be born contributed to the minimal damage that was done to my body during her birth.

I pushed one strong push during a contraction and saw the top of her head crowning. I remember praising God and saying “My baby, my baby, my baby” over and over again. I could see her. She was right there.

Right at this point, I also started vomiting. Sure, it doesn’t make for a pretty end to the story, but it happened so I am writing about it. I turned my face and threw up, and almost immediately, and miraculously there was a bowl placed there. A bowl which I missed as I continued to throw up through the rest of the delivery. Later, after she was born, Evan let me know that in the midst of this puke fest, while I had him in a headlock, I was actually vomiting down the side of his face. And yet, he stood there, let me pin him down with puke on his face, and cried as he also watched our child enter the world. That, my friends? That is true love.

With the next few contractions, I watched as the crown of her head turned into an entire head and face and then, with tears streaming down my face and phrases of awe and praise coming from my lips, I breathed as the rest of my baby came into the world.

Seven minutes.

Once I got over convincing myself I could have control of this labour, and let my body take the lead, she was born in seven minutes.

She was immediately placed on my chest and I looked to see that she was a girl. I, along with Evan, both of our mothers and Taryn, were all shocked to see that she was a girl.

I gave thanks to God, and started kissing and loving on my Gwennie. She was perfect.

And suddenly, every single contraction, every single pain – every little bit of it – was gone. My baby was in my arms. Safe. Healthy. Beautiful.

My sweet baby girl.

7:08 am was the time of her birth and her Big Sister woke up just before 7:15 am (again – can you say God moment?). When she woke up, our bedroom door was shut and she was greeted by one of her Nana’s and taken outside to meet up with Grandpa and Papa for a fun day of breakfast at the truck stop, playing at the park and going out for pizza for lunch.

Over the next few hours, we spent our time getting to know Gwen. She nursed wonderfully for the first time. In fact, the midwives asked me if I was still nursing Evalyn because the amount she was gulping was unusual for a first feed. She had her newborn exam and was weighed at 8lbs4oz and 21.5 inches long. She met her grandparents. Snuggled with her Mommy and Daddy and then later in the day, met her big sister for the first time.

Her birth was perfect. An indescribable reflection of the beauty of God’s creation. A miracle, really.

We praise Him, for we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Happy Birthday Gwennie–part 4

(Part ONE Part TWO Part THREE)

We left off when my mom had arrived at the house, I tried having a shower, and we started discussing when it would be time to page the midwife. I had been timing contractions for about 45 minutes, they were coming every 2 minutes and lasting about 30-45 seconds. We decided to go ahead and page because it was evident that things were not slowing down and my midwives had prepared me for the potential for a quick build up of labour, based on my experience with Evalyn.

Of course, as soon as we paged and the on call student midwife returned my call, I felt like my contractions eased up significantly while on the phone with her. However, she said this was normal because paging often creates a welcome distraction. She kept me on the phone for about 40 minutes to get an idea of the pattern of my labour and let me know that things were definitely picking back up as we settled into our conversation. We got off the phone, she consulted with the on call registered midwife and called me back. We decided they would be to our house within an hour.

That next hour is quite a blur. I know that Evan and I went outside for some fresh air, took a small walk down the road and that his mom had arrived by the time we got back. I spent more time on the birth ball, where Evan and I prayed together and recited my birth scriptures. This was the most amazing part of my labour, because despite not knowing how long we sat their reciting the scriptures, I do know that I barely felt a single contraction while we were doing that.

I was still on the ball in the corner of the living room when the midwives arrived at 4 am. They checked my temperature, blood pressure and the baby’s heart beat and watched me go through a few contractions before helping me back to the bedroom to see how far I had progressed.

As we moved to the room and they helped me get situated, I was trying my hardest not to give myself ultimatums or set goals for our far I’d like to be. All I knew was that if I wasn’t ‘far enough’ – whatever that would mean – that I would get discouraged. Things were already so intense and I just wasn’t sure how much longer I’d been able to keep it up. I remember my primary midwife, Taryn, asking me if Evalyn was at home. I told her yes, she was asleep because I hadn’t known I was going to go into labour before she went to bed. She said, “That’s okay, we’re having this baby before she wakes up”.

When they checked me, they told me I was between a 6-7 and things could go fairly quickly from here. I continued to labour as I had been, on the exercise ball and backwards on the toilet as things got harder and harder. My midwife suggested I try the birth stool – so I did – but I didn’t find it to be effective. It wasn’t long before my body started feeling like we were getting close. The pressure was building and I knew it wouldn’t be long until it was time to push. Taryn told me I was doing great, and she had already called her back up midwife, that’s how confident she was that we were almost done. My mom had called my dad and asked him to come wait in the truck outside, just in case Evalyn woke up, they would whisk her away without her knowing anything was up. It would soon be show time. By now, it was just after 5 am.

To be continued….

Happy Birthday Gwennie–part two

If you haven’t read part one of Gwen’s birth story, click here before you go any further. Part one concluded with me realizing, at around 2:30 in the morning, that my labour was a false alarm and nothing was happening. I had taken Evalyn to her aunt’s for the night, called my parents to come to town, and put everything together in the house – all for nothing.

I woke up Friday morning and broke down in tears. I was discouraged. I was disheartened. I thought I would have been holding my baby, or at least well on the way to holding my baby by now. I was feeling deflated as well as exhausted from a night of very little sleep.

I headed over to Marcia and Linda’s, where my parents also were, to pick up Evalyn. As soon as I saw her, my attitude changed. She was thrilled at having had a sleepover at her aunties and was so excited to see her Nana and Papa. “Mommy, Nana prise you smorning!” she shouted to me. I had cried the night before while putting her to bed and praying, thinking it would be the last night that she was my only baby, so I tried to remind myself to just enjoy her, and that the new baby would be here in good time.

We spent the day with Nana and Papa, at the beach, the park, out for lunch, swimming and visiting Great Grandpa. All the while, I hardly felt a single cramp or contraction, yet was still losing more and more of my mucous plug and seeing evidence of bloody show. We were all on edge – wondering when it would happen. My Dad kept encouraging me, telling me that this must just be the calm before the storm.

Of course, as the weekend went by, we all kept waiting for the storm to arrive. Having my parents here for the weekend made all the difference in the world. Evan was busy working away at the new house, still hoping to get as much work as possible done before show time, so getting to spend our time with Nana was a very welcome distraction to help the time pass for Evalyn and I.

On Sunday, Canada Day, we had a quiet afternoon at home before heading to Dana and Cindy’s for a BBQ with friends. Sometime over the course of the weekend, I felt my attitude shift from impatient to content. Instead of talking like “Well, if I’m not in labour tomorrow, we will do ____”, I was talking like this, “Tomorrow we will do _____”. I knew the baby would come when it was time, and I felt myself giving that control back to God, realizing that it was not my decision.

The plan was for my Dad to head home Monday after lunch to go back to work on Tuesday. Since they drove separately, my mom was going to stay over one more night, come with me to my midwife appointment on Tuesday morning and then make her decision about whether or not to go home based on what my midwife said about my progress. Again, our discussions switched from “If I am still pregnant on Tuesday” to “You’ll come with me to my appointment on Tuesday”.

We thoroughly enjoyed our time with our friends at the BBQ on Sunday evening. Delicious food, great company and of course, s’mores. Evalyn got to play with her best friend Will, her Nana and Papa and Cindy’s cats. I got to use my belly as a table one last time.

I felt very uncomfortable, but simply because I was 40 weeks 4 days pregnant and spent my evening sitting on a lawn chair – not because I had any indication what was headed my way. We went home in time for Evalyn to go to bed and my mom and I went for a bit of a walk. We said goodnight, see you in the morning, and they headed back to Marcia and Linda’s.

I decided it would be a good night to head to bed early, because Evan was watching a movie I had no interest in and I hadn’t napped that day, so I tucked myself in bed around 9:30. I laid there for a few minutes and quickly realized sleep was not coming so I decided to get back up and spend a few more minutes on the birth ball. During this time, I was sitting near the baby’s bassinet, reading and re-reading my cue cards that have my labour scriptures written on them. I kept finding my mind come back to one in particular.

“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him” – Psalm 37:7.

My mind also kept being drawn to the scriptures that discuss God knowing the exact number of hairs on our head, how he cares about the sparrows and the lilies of the field – and how much more he cares about us. These ideas lead me to think about how he has chosen and selected, on purpose, the perfect birthday for my baby. I started praying and thanking God for the blessing of this baby and asking forgiveness for attempting to take control of the situation. I asked God to take it from me, to grant me peace, and to remind me that He was holding us in His hand. I also prayed that He would give Evan and I the wisdom and discernment to know when it was time, as all of the cramps, contractions and false starts/stops had me anxious about how I would know when it was real. Again, these prayers drew me back to another of my scriptures that I had focused on in preparation for labour:

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and love and sound judgement” – 2 Timothy 1:7.

I spent a few more minutes in prayer, reflecting on these ideas. Around 10:30 p.m., I wrote the following tweets:

Every minute over due, every false alarm, every "could this be the day?" - it will be forgotten when I see that sweet face. I just know it.

and

“Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him” – Psalm 37:7.

Shortly after, Evan’s movie was done, so we decided to head to bed. He fell asleep instantly (are we surprised), and I was quickly drifting there myself, feeling much more at peace than I had in days.

Around 11:30, I rolled over to reposition in bed, and instantly felt as small pop and felt as though I had wet my pants.

To be continued…

Happy Birthday Gwennie– Part One

I wasn’t sure where to start when telling the story of Gwendolyn’s birth. The truth is, this experience has God written all over it and deserves some background context in order to truly convey how marvellous God’s mighty hand is. So, forgive me, but the story is going to take a few parts and is going to have to start a few days before we actually met our daughter. I hope you’ll stick around. I promise, the story has a great ending…

If you know me, you know that I like to be in control and that when preparing for the arrival of a new baby, this control flies out the window. I can’t control what they will be, who they will be, when they will come into the world, or how they will come into the world. And sometimes? This lack of control drives me nuts. Near the end of my pregnancy, I started to get very impatient about when the baby would arrive. Apparently I forgot about the fact that I felt this way near Evalyn’s birth and was quickly reminded that God was in control when she came into the world on the best possible day for my husband’s schedule. Again, Gwen’s birth is a repeat of that.

Along with the impatience, I was dealing with a lot of anxiety over what would be done with Evalyn during the birth of her sibling. Again, a result of my desire to be in control and my inability to let go and remember that God is in complete control. I joked with people that my ideal birth story would include going into labour after Evalyn went to bed and having her wake up to a baby sibling. And guess what? Evalyn went to bed in her own bed the night I went into labour because I had no indication it would happen that night. Gwen’s time of birth was 7:08 am. Evalyn woke up between 7:10 and 7:15 that morning. God has a funny way with these things.

In the days leading up to Gwen’s due date, I was noticing a lot of markers that labour could be imminent. I was having a lot of cramping and lots of Braxton Hicks contractions. Even though I never expected to have an early baby, all of these “tricks” were starting to get wearing on me. Constantly wondering if today was the day got old fast. At my 40 week appointment, my midwife offered to check my cervix and do a stretch and sweep if I wished. I agreed. She determined I was 2 cm and thin so she went ahead and gave me a good sweep. She told me things didn’t feel like I would for sure go that day, but it wouldn’t be surprising if I did either.

I went home and spent the rest of the afternoon hoping that things might get started. Nothing. Just a few cramps and a little bit of bloody show. Nothing unusual at all.

Thursday morning rolled around and Evalyn and I headed to the park with Caley and Connor. Around 11 at the park, I started feeling kind of funny and asked Caley to go home because I was feeling dehydrated. Shortly after, I started having more noticeable contractions – ones that felt ‘real’ according to what I remember, rather than just BH or period type cramps. The rest of the day was spent feeling these contractions intermittently. I never stopped to time them because they didn’t seem to getting very consistent, but they were there, and noticeable. By 3-4 pm, they were definitely noticeable, never with more than 7-8 minutes between them. Evan came home early and offered to make dinner while I rested (bless his heart) and said he wasn’t going to go work at the house, just in case. After dinner, we took Evalyn into town for ice cream and a trip at the park – thinking that this very well might be our last evening as a family of three. We made the decision to go ahead and put Evalyn to bed at Marcia and Linda’s. I was pretty sure this was going to be the real deal and I figured I’d rather have her sleepover there and it be a false alarm than have her at home in case it turned real. So, off she went and Daddy and I headed home to get some other things in order.

We went for a nice long walk, and then Evan’s nesting urges hit and he started cleaning (the bonus of having a false alarm, I guess). He scrubbed the patio windows, baseboards and cleaned the hard surface floors. I cleaned up dishes, finished getting a few things ready and brought in some food from the freezer in case I needed to feed birth attendants. In the meantime, I had called my parents to fill them in on what was happening.

They were intending to head to our place on Friday afternoon for the long weekend, regardless of whether the baby had arrived or not, to help with some things at the new house, so they decided they might as well go ahead and come down Thursday night so they’d be here for when/if things started picking up.

I had a bath and both Evan and I climbed in bed, hoping to get a little shut eye, fully expecting to be up through the night giving birth to a child. Unfortunately, as the night progressed, I realized this wasn’t going to happen.  I didn’t sleep well because, although slowly down significantly, the contractions were still evident enough to wake me up, causing me to lay in bed just waiting (hoping) for the next one to come soon after.

Of course, this didn’t happen and by 2:30 a.m., I knew that tonight would not be our night…

She’s Here!

We are so pleased to have had the opportunity to witness and experience the miracle of birth once again as we welcomed our second daughter to our family.

Meet Gwendolyn Anne who was born Monday July 2nd at 7:08 am weighing 8 pounds 4 oz, 21.5 inches long.

Gwennie is beautiful, perfect and exactly what we have been waiting for.

We praise Him for we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Here We Are

Well, folks, here we are. 37 weeks today. Full term. This marks “the day”. You know, that line in the sand where suddenly you start to think that it could be “any day now” and that it wouldn’t really be too early if the baby came. It’s the day I told myself my entire pregnancy that I wouldn’t get excited about. I went five days overdue with Evalyn. I won’t be surprised if I do the same this time around. Yet, I still woke up thinking, any day now. That kind of mindset? It can make for a long, gruelling last month of pregnancy.

I had my home visit with my midwife yesterday and everything looks great. The baby’s heartbeat was strong and I’m measuring just fine. The home birth supplies are organized and set up. (And taunting me). The birth ball is ready to be bounced on. The hospital bag and car seat are ready to go. The baby’s clothes are washed and folded and ready. The newborn diapers are stocked. The swing and bouncy seat have been washed and cleaned up. The receiving blankets are washed and folded and waiting. This weekend my MIL and I are going to do some cooking and stock my freezer. I got my hair cut yesterday. I have a pedicure booked for next week. You know, the important stuff. Everything is just about ready.

The truth is, though, we aren’t ready. Even though physically I feel like I could stand not being pregnant anymore and could have this baby any day, I don’t really want to go early. We have a lot going on. We just took possession of the house. Ev has the roof part way done, he still has to paint and replace floors and do some other work in the house. And it’s being done on the weekends and in the evenings. As exhausting as being 9 months pregnant and wrangling the toddler on my own all day is, we both agree that it’s better that he gets as much as possible completed on this side of the baby. So I’m praying baby holds out at least 2.5 more weeks. Who am I kidding? I’ll be the one who’s still pregnant in 5 weeks, waving my white flag and willing this child into the world.

Over the past two weeks, Eva has gone through a major sleep regression – acting like bedtime is the worst punishment we could give her and also waking up screaming at some point every night. Sometimes just for a few minutes and sometimes for two hours. I was so thankful that finally last night, she went to bed without much of a peep and slept all night. Me, on the other hand? Not so much. I consider it quite an accomplishment that I made it to 37 weeks of pregnancy with only using an extra small throw pillow to tuck under my belly. Last night, though, that all changed. I had every pillow in the world arranged awkwardly around my body. And every time I shifted or rolled or turned, I tried to rearrange them as best as possible. But, nothing works. The back aches, the ribs ache, the legs ache, the pelvis aches. So I guess from here on out, it’s me and my chariot of pillows trying to get the best sleep we possibly can.

Regardless of the discomfort and exhaustion of these final stages of pregnancy, I know, know, know that as soon as this child arrives, I will forget every little bit of it and I do not, for one second, take the blessing of this pregnancy for granted. Not even a little bit. Birth day will be here before we know it.

I don’t have a current, 37 week, full term bump pic to share. But, if you go to google images and type in “beached whale” you should get the idea.

Perfect Timing

This post has been in the works for a long time. A long, long time. Like, more than a year. So the other day when I saw Katie post on the Poop Whisperer about how she and her husband came to know they were ‘ready’ to become parents, I decided I needed to sit down and write about this. This may be one of the most meaningful posts I’ve ever written.

If you don’t already know, Evalyn was a surprise baby. Not a mistake. Not an oops. She was a surprise. The biggest and most exciting surprise we could have ever asked for.

Despite the fact that she was a surprise, the story of the timing of her arrival is a good one. It has God written all over it. Retrospectively, I now realize that Evalyn’s conception and birth has taught me more about God than any other experience in my life – how to trust Him amidst the unknown, the beauty of creation, and the perfection of His timing.

Evan and I got married when we were young. Really young. I was 19. He was 20. We knew we wanted to have a family together. That is what drew us to each other. I was in the middle of my undergrad degree when we got married. At the time, we assumed I would finish as quickly as possible, get a job, and then try to get pregnant as soon as I could qualify for maternity leave.

Over the next two years, things changed. I fell in love with learning. I was coming close to the end of my undergrad program and I knew I wasn’t ready to be done. I did something I never thought I would do. I applied to grad school. I was accepted and committed to spending the next two years completing my MA.

All through my years as a student, we talked a lot about having babies. We talked about when we’d have them. What we’d name them. How we’d raise them. And at different times, one of us or the other would think that despite where we were in life, we wanted a baby. Now. Somehow, the other person was always on the opposite side. When I wanted a baby, he didn’t. When he wanted a baby, I didn’t. So because of that, we never took the plunge towards starting a family. We knew it would be the best, the most logical, the smartest decision to wait until I had completed my degrees, started a career, and we had bought a house.

There were a few times when I was a little suspicious and convinced myself to pee on a stick. Of course, each of those times, I was 98% certain that I was not, in fact, pregnant. And although I was nervous to the point of shaking each time I POAS and read the results, like Katie wrote in her post, when I saw the “negative”, there were always tears. Tears that stung me with a sense of disappointment and loss. Even though we didn’t “want” a baby, weren’t trying for a baby, there was always that feeling that maybe, just maybe, if I was pregnant, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The summer between my first and second year of grad school (the summer of 2009), I started to get baby fever like whoa. It was different than any of the times in the past when either of us had the itch. I started to feel like something was really missing. Like I really really wanted – no, needed – to be a mother. And I needed it now. We were celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary and honestly? If you had asked me when we got married, I would have said that we would have kids by then, for sure. Life was taking much longer than expected to "start”.

Evan and I talked here and there about the possibility. But, I still had a year left to complete my degree. We thought that maybe, just maybe, we could try to get pregnant between November 2009 and January 2010. If it happened, then we would know that it was the right choice. And if it didn’t, we would move on. We knew that if I got pregnant in that window, it would give me plenty of time to complete my degree, with enough time to spare to prepare for a baby but not so much time that I would get bored, since we knew there wouldn’t be time to start a career in the meantime. If I was going to take the plunge, I didn’t want to end up with too much time in between school and baby. It was the closest we had ever come to being serious about trying for a baby.

But then other thoughts flooded our minds. We needed to buy a house. I needed to start a career. I needed to ensure that I would qualify for maternity benefits.

Having a baby just wasn’t logical.

So we decided against it. We would wait.

Maybe in a few years it would be time.

Logic won out.

Our baby discussions stopped. It just wasn’t our time. I moved on. But of course, still felt the itch every time I cuddled a new baby. And every time I found out another friend or relative was expecting. The itch came back. But I brushed it aside. It just wasn’t time.

And then?

January 10th, 2010, I peed on a stick once more, expecting the same results as the times before. Secretly hoping it would be positive, but assuming that I would feel those same mixed emotions, and tears of disappointment when I saw the negative.

But I didn’t. I saw a positive. I was pregnant.

I got pregnant, unexpectedly, in December of 2009. Right in the middle of the “window” we had originally discussed as being the only possible time we could try to conceive, if we were going to. This meant that we would have a baby in September 2010. Enough time for me to finish school and have a break but not enough time to feel like I should have started a career. Just like we had discussed.

I am positive that in the midst of our decision making, God was laughing at us. Knowing that regardless of what choice we made, however logical it may have been, that we were in for the greatest surprise of our lives.

The greatest surprise that came at just the right time.

Perfect timing.

The Choice for Homebirth

A while back I posted a homebirth Q&A. I only got a few questions on that post, but they were all great ones. Before I go on to answer the specific questions, I will tell you a bit about why we chose to have a homebirth.

Let me first say that I definitely do not believe that homebirth is for everyone. Both partners need to feel comfortable with the idea or otherwise, it will never work. I don't want to give anyone the impression that I think that hospitals are bad for birthing babies or that everyone should give birth at home (or have a natural childbirth, for that matter). That is not the case - each person, and each birth is unique and you must make these decision based on your own circumstances and convictions. I would love to say that all my babies will be born naturally, in our home, but I don't know if that will be the case or not. My pregnancy and labor with Evalyn was very straight forward, with no complications, which allowed us the option this time around. We'll see what happens next time.

With all that being said, let me explain the three main beliefs that I had/have that influenced my decision to plan a homebirth.

1. I believe that my body was designed by God to give birth to children and that, in most circumstances, childbirth can be achieved with minimal intervention. Further, I believe that birth should not be viewed as a medical emergency but rather, a right of passage for both baby and mother.

2. I had confidence in the fact that my midwives were well trained and qualified and would be able to provide valuable guidance throughout my pregnancy, labor, and delivery. I also believed that in the event that something occurred and my body was not able to perform the task at hand, that the midwives would help us make the necessary decisions, always keeping my baby's best interest as the focus.

3. The final belief ties into the first two - I had confidence that God would be in control. One of my labor verses was "Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you, wherever you go". If was the "wherever you go" part that I focused on - I knew that God would be in control and protect us regardless of whether we delivered at home or in hospital. During my pregnancy I spent a great deal of time praying that God would give me the physical and emotional strength that I needed to achieve a natural birth. I also prayed that He would grant all of us involved - me, the Dude, the midwives - with sound judgement and discernment so that we would make the right decisions.

With those beliefs in mind, we decided to plan for a homebirth and go with the flow. I wasn't in it to be a hero and I knew that it might not work out and if we changed our minds and decided to (or needed to) go to the hospital, that would be fine, as well. We felt it was wiser to plan for a homebirth and have the possibility of transferring to the hospital than plan for a hospital birth and decide we wanted to stay at home, without things set up and ready.

With all that in mind, I got three questions about homebirth from other bloggers ....

Katie asked if it took a lot of convincing for the Dude to be comfortable with the idea of a homebirth and midwives.


It actually took no convincing at all. I always knew, long before we conceived, that I would want to have midwives and he had no problem with that as we share many of the same convictions. We had also often talked about the possibility of homebirth, although, we both kind of had the assumption that you just don't do homebirths with your first baby. When we first found out we were pregnant, I brought up the subject and the Dude said no, he didn't want to have a homebirth this time. However, after our first two meetings with our midwives, gaining valuable information, he changed his mind. Then, for a few months, he wanted a homebirth and I was saying no, but eventually, we both got on the homebirth page and started to get very excited about the possibility of welcoming our child into the world in our own home. Throughout the entire pregnancy, our plan was to labor at home as long as possible and if that meant that the baby popped out at home, then great ... if not, that would be okay, too.


Laura asked what brought us to the decision to have a homebirth.

I think this question was mostly answered in everything I've written so far.


Joanna asked about safety. Particularly, she asked if I was very far from a hospital, what the midwives protocol would be for transferring to a hospital, and if the midwives do Vitamin K shots at home.


We live about 10-15 minutes away from the closest hospital, if you are driving "normally". Of course, if necessary, the Dude (or an ambulance) could have gotten me there much faster. The main premise is that planned homebirths in low risk pregnancies, assisted by qualified midwives in an area close to a hospital are just as safe as hospital births for a number of reasons. One of those is the 20 minute rule. Even if you are in the hospital and get to the point where you need an emergency C-section, it will likely be at least 20 minutes until you are actually in surgery. This is because OR's need to be prepped, nurses and doctors need to be called in, the patient needs to be prepped etc. If it came down to me needing an unexpected, emergency c-section, I would have still be able to be in surgery within 20 minutes because the midwives would call the hospital and the ambulance and all that "prep" work would be done while I was en route to the hospital.

Further, it is relatively uncommon to need a C-section very quickly without any warning signs earlier in the labor. Much of the time, things have happened earlier on that would indicate the possibility of needing a c-section (baby showing signs of distress, failure to progress resulting in pitocin drip etc), and I would have been already been transferred to hospital.

The midwives monitored the baby's heart rate every 20-30 minutes early in labor and then every 10-15 as things progressed. They also checked my blood pressure and temperature a number of times throughout the day. I wasn't constantly hooked up to machines, but I never felt as though things weren't being monitored.

If I had decided (or needed) to transfer to hospital, the protocol would have depended on the situation. If it were for pain relief, or because things just weren't progressing, then we would have all gotten in our cars and driven there. If it were an emergency, an ambulance would have been called. I was registered with the local hospital so my paperwork was already done in the event of a transfer.

And finally, the midwives did the Vitamin K shot and the eye ointment here at home after she was born.

If anyone has any other questions about homebirth (whether it be our experience or homebirth in general) send them my way!

Top 10 Postpartum Must Haves

I'm sitting here just over two weeks postpartum and I have been reflecting on some of the things I could not have done without over the past few weeks. This is a post where I'm talking about a lot of lady things ... if that grosses you out or you are uninterested in it, feel free to skip.

1. The peri bottle - I am pretty sure that this little gem might top every Mama's list. It's beauty is self explanatory. There is nothing quite like it. Squirting yourself with warm water to dilute your urine so it doesn't sting and clean off your tender parts ... fabulous.

2. Earth Mama Postpartum Herbal Bath - there was a mixture in the homebirth kit from the midwives that gave me enough for two herbal baths but thanks to Shaina, I also had a jar of this mixture which carried me through the first week or so. Being able to have an herbal bath with my babe every night was so soothing and relaxing.

3. Earth Mama Bottom Balm - This was given to me at one of my showers and at first I thought it was bottom balm for the baby, but upon closer inspection I realized it was for me. It is a balm that is stored in the fridge and can be applied to your you-know-what a few times daily. It is a cooling salve that really really really made things feel better, especially when paired with a postpartum ice pack (see #5).

4. My husband's underwear - yes, that's right. I spent my first week postpartum in my hubby's underwear. Who ever thought I would be so quick to get back in his pants? He wears boxer briefs and has one particular brand that are fairly tight that he doesn't wear. They were the perfect size for me and so comfy. They held everything (see below) in place just perfectly.

5. Frozen pads and size 5 diapers - before giving birth, I soaked some large pads in water, cut them in half and froze them. Then, the midwives supplied me with a few size 5 diapers in the birth kit. I placed the frozen pads in the diapers and put them into my underwear the Dude's underwear underneath a large soaker pad folded in three. Pure bliss.

6. Medela Purelan 100 - Breastfeeding = ouchie. Enough said. Lather those lady's up.

7. Gatorade and gingerale - I don't know why, because I don't particularly love either of these drinks normally, but I downed gatorade and gingerale after her birth. Luckily, I had stocked up on gatorade to drink during labor (which was also a must have) so I had a bunch left over. I felt like it helped me re-gain some energy. What was not a must-have however, was freezing Gatorade into Popsicles. Something about the electrolytes in the drink made it taste like I was licking a salt block.

8. Easy off and on ring - When dealing with sleep deprivation and trying to establish breastfeeding, I found it absolutely invaluable to have a sure fire way to remember which side I need to nurse Eva on each time. Of course, there are times when my girls make it prettttttty dang obvious which side she needs to go on, but for the rest of the time, I have loved using my fake wedding ring to switch from hand to hand so that I always can remember which side to milk from.

9. My Mom and Mother-in-law - over the past two weeks these women have been doing everything from cooking, cleaning, laundry, giving advice, holding the baby, getting my groceries and so on. The support I've had from them has been unbelievable and I know my transition to motherhood would not have been as smooth as it has been without them.

10. The Fabulous Dude - obvi. This kid rocks my freakin' world. He was off of work for the first five days of Eva's life and he spent much of that time caring for his helpless wife. I learned to depend on him for things I never ever ever expected to depend on my husband for. He helped me with everything from pottying to showering to changing to getting out of bed to distracting me while I got through the toe curling ouchies of nursing. And he's done alright with helping care for Eva, too ;)

Homebirth Q&A

While I was pregnant and since Eva was born, I have recieved a number of questions about our decision to have a homebirth. There is so much to say about how and why we made this choice. I have been attempting to write a post about how and why we decided to go this route. But, along with my own ideas about homebirth, I thought I could open it up to you and answer any questions you might have.

So, feel free to ask away - anything you want to know about our choice to have a homebirth or homebirthing in general, and I will do my very best to answer next week. And, by the way, if you want to know about the placenta part of it, just read this post. :)

Eva's Birth Story: Part Four

Don't forget to check out Parts 1, 2 and 3 of Eva's birth story.

My water had been broken at 11 am, and by shortly before 1 pm, I told my midwives that I desperately needed to push. They helped me through a few more contractions in the bathroom and then the Dude assisted me back to the bedroom where I was checked to see if I was at 10 cm and ready.

Colleen was the one to check me this time and immediately, she said "Oh, there's the head. She's ready". I remember hearing Carrie instruct her to go ahead and call Taryn (the secondary midwife would comes when birth is imminent to take care of the baby). When instructing me how to push, Colleen put pressure on the place where she said I should feel the pushing. They told me to get into whatever position was most comfortable and they would coach me.

This was definitely the stage of labor where I received the most coaching from my midwives, and it was very beneficial. They gave me suggestions of different positions. I decided to try on my side. With each contraction, the Dude would lift my right leg so that I could maximize the effectiveness of the pushing. The midwives instructed me to try to get three good, strong pushes in with each contraction. As one contraction peaked, I was to give a good push, take a short breath, another push, short breath, and another push. After a few series of pushes on my side, I decided it just wasn't working for me.

I decided then to get on my hands and knees and try pushing that way. With the very first series of pushes, I knew that this was going to get the job done. I could just tell that it was effective and helping bring my baby out.

I was definitely in the zone by this point, I don't remember a whole lot, like the Dude putting a warm cloth on my back and neck with each push, but I do remember hearing everyone in the room cheer me on with each push.

It wasn't long until I heard the Dude say that he could see her hair. I wanted to see with a mirror but there wasn't really time, or I didn't ask, I'm not sure. A few more pushes and I was told that her head was now visible even between pushes. My baby was really almost here.

I asked if I could touch it, and they guided my hand down to feel my baby's hair. The secondary midwife, Taryn, arrived just in time. When she walked in the door, the Dude didn't realize who was coming in and thought it was our neighbor, so he said "Excuse me, what are you doing?" ... Poor Taryn.

I remember hearing the Dude say, "I want to catch, where are my gloves?" Quickly the midwives got him situated and started explaining to him what he would need to do.

They told me to keep pushing with strong pushes, until they told me to stop and then they wanted me to breath (hee hee haw type breaths) as my baby's head came out. They said it would be hard to stop pushing but they would help me.

A few more pushes and they said, "You're almost there. Okay, stop and breath your baby out".

I'm not sure which midwife it was, but one of them got right in my face at this point and helped guide my breathing so that it was effective.

The rest is kind of a blur.

Her head was out, along with her tiny hand (which she began sucking on as soon as she could) and then her shoulders were out, and then, quite literally, the rest of her just popped out. My baby was welcomed into the world by her Daddy. Colleen also had her hands on her the entire time, but the Dude did most of it.

The Dude and the midwives passed her to me, I saw my sweet baby's face for the first time and I fell in love.

I was the one who got to look and see what kind of Monkey we got. I'm not sure why, but this was very important to me - I wanted to be the one to tell everyone, "It's a girl" and I did.

I smothered my baby with kisses, told her how much I loved her, that I had waited for her and I thanked God for bringing her to us safely. At this point, I realized just how true one of my labor Scriptures really was ....

Whenever a woman is in labour, she has pain, because her time has come, but when she gives birth to the child, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the JOY that a CHILD has been BORN into the world".
- John 16:21

The next few hours were spent taking care of all of the "post birth" stuff ... the placenta was delivered, I was stitched up, and she was examined, weighed and so on. The midwives helped us get started with breastfeeding, and made sure that everything was in order. They stayed with us for about three or four hours following her birth, had lunch with us, and made sure we were all comfortable before they left.

She was so excited to meet her Daddy, Nana and Auntie Katie right after she was born.

Our family.

We were so blessed to have a straight forward, normal labor and delivery for our sweet girl. Here we are with the midwives who helped bring Eva into the world. The plaque on our wall says it all: "Home is where your story begins".

I can't wait until Eva grows and is able to hear all about how her story began.

Thank you all for your prayers and love as we waited for Eva and thank you for allowing us to share her story with you.

Dear Evalyn - One Week Old

**Eva's birth story will hopefully be completed tomorrow but for today ... I wanted to write a quick one week update.**

Dear Baby Evalyn,

You are one week old today! I cannot believe it. It is so strange that it has only been a week since you came in to the world because it feels as though you've been here forever.

We have spent a lot of time cuddling, kissing, and getting to know you. We are so in love with you.

On your first full day in this world, we went for a short little walk around the farm to show you where you live. You didn't see much, though, because you fell right asleep tucked up close to Mama.

You have been able to meet lots and lots of friends and family. You especially loved Auntie Crystal!

You like your swing and that's usually where you chill out while we eat dinner. I am thankful to the person who invented a baby swing that plugs in! We will be able to send you to college with the money we'd have to spend on batteries.

You love having an herbal bath with mommy every night. You love when Dad pours water over your belly to keep you nice and warm. You get so calm and peaceful in the tub! It's one of my favorite times of the day.

On Saturday, when you were 3 days old, Carrie came over to check us out. She weighed you and were down to 7 lbs 3 oz, but everything was looking good. We are not worried at all because when the midwife came back yesterday, on day six, we discovered that you are now weighing in at a whopping 7 lbs 11 oz! Baby girl, you are packing on the pounds (or ounces). You have now surpassed your birth weight and are on the up and up! At this rate, you'll be 9 lbs by next week! Please don't grow up too fast.

On Sunday night, you had your first bath in your own tub. You liked it alright, but secretly I think you prefer to be in the big tub with Mumma.

On Sunday, you went to church for the first time wearing this precious dress that Nana bought for you. You were such a good girl!

In the afternoon, you got to meet your Auntie Kristin, Uncle David, and cousin's Little H and Baby A. They both looked like giants in comparison to you. At just four months apart, I have a feeling you and Baby A will be the best of friends. Before long, you're going to catch up with her and won't look like such a little Peanut when you're side by side.

You love to be carried in the ring sling. You like the others, too ... but this one seems to be your favorite so far. Mommy loves holding you so close to me!

Daddy is teaching you all sorts of important things - like how to dress in camo for the approaching hunting season.

Most of the time you spend with him looks something like this....

You know your Daddy's voice and he has a special way of calming you down when you are a being a fuss pot.

You are learning the difference between day time and night time. The other night you gave us a stretch of almost 4 hours of sleep! The problem is that so far, you have only been able to sleep if you are propped up on Mommy or Daddy's chest. You are fairly badly congested and it gets worse throughout the day so by night time, you do not want to lay down on your back.

Last night, we propped you up on your side and you were able to sleep all night by yourself in your bassinet! Yay, Eva! You didn't give us very long of stretches, but we are proud of you just the same. We're hopeful for another great night tonight. You will sleep everywhere and anywhere during the day so Mommy has been able to rest when you are resting.

You are eating like a champ (which is obvious since you are already past your birth weight). You eat about every 2-3 hours during the day and anywhere from every 2 hours to every 4 hours at night. Mommy has had some trouble feeding you on the left side. My let down is rather fast and so I seem to drown you when you try to eat on that side, which results in you having to latch, unlatch and relatch 6-7 times per feed. This has made for one sore nipple. Last night we had a bit of a scare when you spit up blood all over Nana after eating. Mommy paged the midwife and talked to her about it, but it looks as though the blood was likely just from my nipple and you are A-okay. I am so glad! I was very nervous to put you back on that side through the night, so we gave it a little break and it's feeling much better this morning. You've already nursed well twice on that side!

You went to the mall with Nana and Mommy for the first time yesterday. You didn't love it. That will have to change. You will learn to love shopping. The end. We got you some cute outfits, and particularly, picked out something special for you to wear to cousin Carrie's wedding in a few weeks.

You have been given so many cute clothes that you are going to be one well-dressed little lady!!

Here you are at one week old, sweet girl.

I love you with all of my heart and I am blessed to have you.

Love, Mommy

Eva's Birth Story: Part Three

If you need to catch up, you can read the first two parts of our birth story here and here. As a refresher, I had started into early labor in the evening on Tuesday, spent the evening and night in and out of the bathroom (um, did I mention I used SEVEN rolls of toilet paper over the course of my labor?Um, yeah, at least I didn't have to worry about pooping during delivery.TMI? Sorry), resting between contractions and floating in the bathtub. Things progressed through the night and by 7 am I was around 5 cms and starting into active labor. I labored through the morning and when we left off in part two, it was 11 am, the midwives checked my dilation, found that I was sitting between 7 and 8 cms and broke my water.

Before doing so, they explained that breaking the water can often shorten labor by 30-45 minutes but is also quite likely to send the contractions to the next level in terms of intensity. They were right. I counted on my Dude during the transitional stage of labor so much. He was there with me through every single contraction - talking to me, hanging on to me, kissing me, breathing with me, and dancing with me (I'm talking a slow, steady rocking type dance - we weren't doing no macarana!)

The midwives suggested that I try getting back into the bathtub as many women find that the weightlessness of the water can help counteract the intensity of the contractions. We decided to give it a try. While in the water, things changed. It got hard. Super hard. After the fact, my mom and Katie said that they could hear me from the kitchen while I was in the tub and they knew that things were getting difficult for me. I needed much more direction in terms of keeping my pitch low and if the Dude didn't help me breath through each contraction, I had trouble getting on top of them. I remember saying to him a few times, "I need to own these contractions. Help me own them. I can't get control" and each time, he would tell me to keep my shoulders down, let out the tension through my bum and out my toes ... and it worked. I was able to get back on top of the contractions and take them one at a time. The most important thing, I found, was to never alow myself think about the contraction that had just passed and likewise, to never think about the next one coming. It was so crucial to focus on getting through the contraction I was having at the time, and that was it. I also remember feeling so though I needed to vomit a lot during this time, so we were carrying a bowl around with us, but I managed to get through without getting sick.

It was during this point in labor that people started to talk about my baby a lot. I heard many comments such as "these contractions are bringing your baby down", "help your baby move down", "your baby is coming". Those are the things that kept me going. I knew I was soon going to meet Eva (although I did not yet know that she would be Eva).

After a little while (I have no idea how long because my concept of time at this point was gone) I decided I didn't like the tub so thought I should go back to the exercise ball because I had liked it so much throughout the rest of my labour. But, I didn't. I only spent a small amount of time there and then said I needed to get to the toilet (roll of toilet paper #8?!?). The Dude helped me to the washroom and I had the urge to sit backwards. Colleen told me this is generally a very effective position for bringing the baby down and encouraged me to keep my feet flat on the floor. They assured me that no matter what, they would not let my baby fall out into the toilet. To be honest, that thought never crossed my mind.

They kept telling me that this was the hardest part, I was almost done, just a few more contractions. I remember feeling somewhat irrational at this point - in fact, I even asked "How many more?" once, knowing full well that no one could tell me. Colleen said, "Just a few more, you're almost done." I remember wanting to snap at her, and tell her that I knew I wasn't that close because they hadn't even called the second midwife yet.

While I was on the toilet, I lost my plug and got the bloody show, which I hadn't seen yet, so I knew that was a good sign. Shortly after, I started to feel an intense urge to push. They told me it was okay to do some "little practice grunts" so I started with that. It was not long, however, until I told them that "little grunts" were not enough and that I needed to PUSH! Carrie asked me to try to get through three more contractions on the toilet and then I could make my way back to the bedroom. I got through those last three and then the Dude took me under my arms and assisted me back to the room. I think I had about three very strong contractions in the 20 foot or so walk back to the room, where I remember bending my knees, bearing down and pushing a little. And, man ... did that feel good. I also remember noticing that during my time in the bathroom, the midwives had moved all of their equipment into our room and set everything up. Maybe I was almost done, afterall.

I got back to the bedroom, got situated on the bed and Colleen checked to see how close to complete I was...

A Homebirth Funny

I didn't get a chance to write the next few parts of Eva's birth story over the course of the weekend but I wanted to give you something, so I thought I'd write this little post about a home birth funny.

Over the course of my pregnancy, I was surprised that when I told people about our plans for home birth, one of the things that they asked about most was the placenta. This was surprising to me that this aspect of birth was one that people were most interested in in terms of how it would go down at home.

Most commonly, the question was/is, "So, what do you do with the placenta?"

The answer is this: you bury it. Well, at least that's one option. When she was born we were informed that it is now allowed to put it in the garbage, but burying it is the recommended option.

And, because our number one priority following her birth was not having the Dude go out and a dig a 6 foot hole to bury it, the midwives just told us to pop it in the freezer and bury it later.

The idea of having a placenta in our freezer is one that many of our friends found rather amusing as we prepared for our home birth. Some people informed us that they would be scared to go get ice cream or something, in case they grabbed the wrong container.

So, we found it highly amusing when BFF's mom and sister delivered this lasagna to us the other night:

I'm sure any guests visiting us will be glad for this clarfiication :)

Eva's Birth Story: Part Two

**Sorry about the irregular spacing in this post. For some reason, all the paragraphs are screwing up but I'm sick of trying to fix it.

When we left off at the end of part one of Eva's birth story, it was shortly after 3 am, and the Dude and I had just called my parents and told them to get on the road and head down.


As a funny sidenote, my brother and SIL had been staying with my parents for the summer until they got possession of their new home so when I called at 3 am, my SIL woke up and was confused. She thought my parents had left earlier in the night the first time I called, so seeing our phone number on call display made her think we were calling her with the news that the baby had arrived. She answered and said "Do you have something to tell us?" and I was like, "Um, yeah, I'm in labor. Mom and Dad need to get here". Meanwhile, at the same time, my mom picked up the extension upstairs and couldn't understand why my SIL was also on the phone. It took us a good 5 minutes to get things straightened out but we managed.


After we got off the phone and knew my parents would be arriving within the next two hours, we decided to take care of the few last minute preparations while I was still able to somewhat concentrate on other things in between contractions. We stripped our bed and re-made it with two sets of old sheets and vinyl tablecloths, covered the pillows with plastic bags and old pillow cases, cleared off my dresser for midwives supplies and, most importantly, I donned the Monkey Milkin' Shirt.


The Dude and I continued to lay down and attempted to get as much rest as possible in the meantime. This is when I really felt like I started to get into the zone. My baby was really on the way.


By just before 5 am when my parents arrived the contractions had increased and I was confident that we were beginning to see the magical longer, stronger, closer together. I think my mom was surprised to see how far into labor I actually was by the time she arrived. We spent the following hour timing them, only to find that they were coming consistently at 2.5 minutes apart and lasting for 45 seconds.


We had been instructed to page the midwives when we thought I had begun active labor. They had encouraged us to not become obsessed with timing contractions but gave us a 3 minute apart for an hour guideline to go by. They also said, when your contractions are "toe-curling" and you can no longer talk through them or focus on anything else while you are having one.


By 5:45 am, we decided that we were probably at this point. I wasn't in any state to pick up the phone and page, so the Dude paged for us and we waited only a short time for the student midwife, Colleen, to call us back.


Evan explained to her where we were at and she asked to speak with me so she could try to get an idea of how I was coping and how things were progressing from me. We spent about 10 minutes on the phone, going through a few contractions together, and she told me that she would call my on-call midwife (her supervising midwife), discuss things with her, and then call us back with a plan. I have to admit that at this point, I still had the nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me that I was not really that far into labor and that we had paged way too early.

Colleen called back shortly and let me know that she and my primary midwife, Carrie, felt as though I was likely either at the beginning stages of active labor or else at least very close. She said that they would be there within an hour or so to assess me and we would go from there.

After we hung up, I texted Katie, my bff saying "It's showtime. My parents are here and midwives are on the way". She texted back immediately, "What?? Whooohooo. I'll be there soon" and arrived within a few minutes.

Over the next hour, the sinking feeling that we had paged too early became even more pressing as my contractions began to slow down. They were definitely no longer coming two minutes apart. When Colleen arrived at 7 am and informed me that Carrie was just a few minutes behind her, I told her that I was nervous I paged too early. She told me not to worry, they'd check me out and if I wasn't ready for them to stay, they would leave for a bit and come back later.

Colleen, who I had not met previously (because she was a student with the other team) helped me through a few contractions. Carrie arrived a few minutes later and they got me situated on the bed to check out where I was at. They both reminded me not to feel discouraged if I wasn't as far along as I thought and that I was doing a great job. They also told me that it was not uncommon for women to experience a slow down in labor once they have called the midwives because they start to feel more relaxed and safe knowing they have that support and it's not a big deal.

I was pleased to know that I was between 4.5-5 cm and that hopefully, with a stretch and sweep, things would get moving. And, um, that stretch and sweep? Ouch.like.ouchie.

I think I might have cried. They promised me it would not be like that every time they checked me. And thankfully, they were right. After they checked me, they also gave me a shot of gravol in my hip that would hopefully give me the opportunity to rest between contractions. And it certainly did. I was able to fall asleep in between each contraction. At one point, I think I almost fell of the birthing ball.

We decided that the midwives would stick around for an hour and see how things went. If the contractions continued to peter out, then they would leave for a bit and come back when things picked up again. However, as that hour passed, we realized that things were not petering out, and the midwives would not need to leave. Things were picking up quickly!

Here I am resting on the birthing ball, with my fabulous husband - who, I might add, was a total rockstar, and Colleen giving me a back massage.

Checking the baby's heart rate - each time they checked her heart, they kind of laughed and said something about how this baby didn't even notice what was going on. She was happy as a clam in there.

My mom and Katie were my other labor support people. They were my silent warriors. They didn't say a whole lot but they were always there with exactly what I needed. Whether it was a drink, some crackers, a hand to squeeze, or a backrub, it was also there when I needed it and most often, without my even asking.

Over the next few hours, the Dude and I managed the contractions together as they got progressively longer, stronger and closer together. I must say, there is no way I could have gotten through labor without him. He was a total lifesaver. He was always there, touching me when I wanted it, not touching me when I didn't want it, saying the right things at the right time and never leaving my side. Well, okay, he did have to leave my side a few times, but he always made sure I was comfortable first and that someone else was with me. With every contraction he reminded me to breath deeply, to relax my shoulders, let the tension out through my bum and all the way out my toes. He breathed with me and moaned with me, encouraging me to keep my pitch very deep and low, which was exactly what helped me stay on top of each contraction.

As things got stronger, I remember finding myself repeating some of my labor scriptures to myself in my head. Specifically, I kept repeating "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on you". At one point, the Dude said "You are so strong. You're doing such a great job" and I remember telling him that I couldn't do it without him, and that the Lord was giving me the strength that I needed.

Around 10 am, Carrie and Colleen situated me on my bed to administer the antibiotics that I would need for testing positive for GBS. It took about 10 minutes and then they detached the IV so I was able to move around again. Movement in labor = A plus. The birthing ball was the tool that I used the most often, as you can see in some of the photos. The rocking and bouncing sensation was one that I found very effective. This was about the same time that my Dad decided things were getting a wee bit intense for him and he headed out for the rest of the time. Honestly, by this point, I would not have even noticed who was there.

When we hit 11 am, it was time for them to check me again. As they got me set up in the bed, they informed me that if I was 7 cm or above that they could offer to break my water. They told me that if they did, it would have the possibility of shortening labor but would likely make the contractions much more intense. I opted to have them break the waters if I was ready. Still at this point, I had a fear that over the course of the 4 hours they had been there that I had probably only progressing 1 cm. They said in that time, 1 cm is the minimum they would have liked to see so as long as I was at 6 cm, they would be happy.

Thankfully, they measured me at between 7 and 8 cm so they were able to go ahead and break my waters. They waited until I was having a strong contraction, so that the sac and everything would be taut and one of them (I can't remember who) broke it. Not a lot came out because her head was so low and acting like a plug so they told me that most of the fluids would come out when she was born. Once the water was broken, and Carrie told me she could feel the head, I asked if she felt hair. She said that she sure did feel a lot of hair on my baby. I just knew it.

They suggested that I try the bathtub again because many women find it eases the intensity of contractions after the waters are broken, so with the Dude's help, I eased my way into the tub and waited to see what would happen.

When they said that breaking my water would change things and intensify my contractions, they were not kidding!

To be continued ....