Ezra's Birth Day Home Birth Story

I always intended to share Ezra's birth story on my blog. Today is his 1st birthday, and so it seem like the appropriate time to transfer it to my blog and share. What better way to commemorate the day of his birth than to reflect and remember all of those details and photos to bring me back to this day, one year ago. It is his birthday, but it is also the day I birthed him. The little details and emotions of that day fade over time, soften a bit. The memory will always remain, and this story will help preserve those memories. While I edited the story a bit and chose to share the very few blog appropriate photos I have, this will by far be my most personal, in depth and longest blog post. It's REALLY long! I would have condensed it and made a blog version, but copy and paste is all I have time for today, otherwise, I'll end up waiting another year. Enjoy!

The morning before Ezra was born, I had a prenatal appointment with my midwife, Catherine. At my previous prenatal appointment a week earlier, Catherine had asked if I wanted my membranes swept. Without thought, I refused, not wanting any intervention. I also fully expected to go into labor that weekend  since she had checked me then and said I was 3 cm dilated and completely efaced - and because my self given due date was that weekend, a full week before the ultrasound due date. So, by the time the next appointment came, and baby hadn’t, I was anxious and ready for my baby, and went ahead and had Catherine sweep my membranes. She said I was between 4 and 5 cm dilated at that time. That was at about 11:00 am Thursday morning, June 9th, 2011.

I went home, did some laundry and cleaned the house. Armando came home with Esperanza asleep in the car a little before 3 pm. I brought her in from the car and laid down with her in bed, expecting to nap with her. After just moments of lying down, I felt my first contraction. I had absolutely no doubt that it was a contraction. I’d had Braxton hicks for weeks before, along with other odd feelings and pains that I had thought might have been contractions, but really weren’t. So, when I felt that first real contraction, I knew it was real because I didn’t question whether it was a contraction or not. I just knew.

The contractions continued throughout the afternoon. I got up, leaving Esperanza to finish her nap. I had too many thoughts racing about in my head, making it impossible for myself to nap. I went about cleaning and cooking around the house. After a couple of hours of contractions, I began to write down the time to keep track of how far apart the contractions were and how long they lasted. Everything was inconsistent. They also were far from intense or painful. But, they also weren’t going away. After an hour or two of enjoying the silent knowledge of knowing our baby would arrive sometime soon, I finally let Armando in on the fact that we were gonna have a baby that night.

When Esperanza woke from her nap, we went downtown Camas and ate Thai food for dinner. I was still having inconsistent contractions, easy to hide, but still very, very noticeable for me. After dinner, we took a walk around downtown Camas as my contractions continued. Still not intense, and still very inconsistent. Some of them were 5 minutes apart, some of them were 20 minutes apart. Though none were very painful, there would often be a somewhat painful one followed closely behind with a less painful one, kind of like an ‘aftershock’. This aftershock effect was something that continued all the way up to the actual birth.

I sent text messages to my sister Mary and my friend Val giving them a heads up that baby would be here that evening. I asked Mary if she’d go ahead and plan on coming over to stay the night, just so I had at least her there in case things sped up faster than expected. By 9 pm my contractions still hadn’t intensified but were becoming a little more consistent. I was trying to find a rhythm that made sense to me. I called Catherine, my midwife, to let her know what was going on. She said she was going to stay in town and for me to call her when my contractions got stronger and closer together – more like 5 minutes apart consistently for 30 minutes.

I laid down with Esperanza to put her to sleep around 10 pm, and continued to time my contractions. As I laid there, waiting for Esperanza to fall asleep, the contractions were getting closer together, and more consistent. It occurred to me then that things were progressing faster than I thought, even though I wasn’t in too much pain. It was during those few minutes lying in the dark while Esperanza fell into dream land that I decided it was time to consider making some phone calls, starting with my midwife. By 11, the contractions were 5 minutes apart, but still not intense or very painful. I called Catherine and she was at my house within a half hour.

My house was quiet, with a few dim lights on. As Catherine set up her equipment, I strolled around the house snacking, cleaning little things, organizing and mostly just trying to figure out what I should be doing with myself since labor land wasn’t calling me yet. Mary was cleaning the bathroom. Armando was either watching t.v. or on the computer in the back room. Catherine never once checked me to see how far along I was dilated. She didn’t ask to, and I didn’t ask her to. Even still though, deep down, I could feel that I was closer to birthing this baby than I was capable of admitting. If I had to throw out a number, I’d say I was probably dilated to a 6 or 7 by this time. I had expected to feel intense pain by then though, be deep into labor land…a state where I wouldn’t be thinking about what was going on around me, who was there, what they were doing, or be involved in any conversations…but be more focused on what was going on inside of me. I never did get to that deep state of labor land that I had fallen into while in labor with Esperanza. For this birth, I had to make a conscious effort to block things out so I could focus completely on my core, my baby and the anticipated event that lied not too far ahead of me.

By about 1 in the morning, I needed to decide who else I wanted to be there as my birth team. I kept going back and forth on if and when I wanted anybody to be there, besides Mary. Mary was my person to help with Esperanza in case she woke up. I knew that labor and birth would be easier for me if Esperanza stayed asleep, but I also knew there was a huge possibility that she would wake up. I was prepared for both scenarios. My mom, my friends Val and Alisha were also planning on being there. I had warned all of them that I could change my mind at the last minute and want it to just be Armando and I. In the end, I invited them all via quick text messages. I think I wrote things like ‘contractions are getting closer and a little more intense, you can come now’. Either way, the fact that I sent text messages at that time meant that I definitely wasn’t in very much pain, or far from reality. It would be just 2 more hours until I gave birth.

I continued to pace or rock back and forth on the birthing ball and retreat into my own world. Catherine's assistant (I cannot remember her name) would check the babies heart beat every so often. My sister drew me a bath after convincing me it would make me feel better. As I walked into the bathroom though, the heat and steam from the hot bath water was extremely overwhelming. I could not take a bath. It was too hot and stuffy. While there is no such thing as being truly comfortable during a contraction, at least for me, the thought of sitting on the hard surface of the tub while having contractions seemed like it would intensify the discomfort. As I walked out of the bathroom to tell Catherine I was not taking a bath, my contractions began to carry over into one another, wave after wave. I couldn't even finish a sentence. They were so close together, I felt like I wasn’t getting a break at all in between contractions. And they were very painful! Finally. But I was still completely with everyone in reality. I wasn’t floating around like I had when I was in labor with Esperanza. I was totally grounded , eyes wide open and aware of everything going on. Reality actually seemed even more intense. Not just of my surroundings, but also even more so with my feelings. It was very intense. The pain was so extremely overwhelming. I was so aware of my pain. Good pain, but still pain. I knew it was good. I was not afraid afraid of it. I welcomed it. I knew that it was the most painful and uncomfortable contractions that did the most work, made the most progress and would eventually lead to the birth of my baby. I did of course still look forward to the end of each contraction. Up until this point, I didn't feel like I was making any progress. But that changed almost instantaneously. I talked to people in between my contractions as if nothing was going on. Then a contraction would come and bring me back down to the floor. When it was over, I'd get back up and continue walking around.

We had set up the living room as my birthing place with a twin size mattress on the floor. I had originally hoped to find the strength and energy to birth in a squatting position or all fours. Even though this was my hope, I knew my own strength, or lack there of. I knew that the power and force of birth would put me in a different position. And that was alright.

Eventually, I found myself laying on the floor, in what would be my birthing position. On my side with my head on the mattress/pillow, and my body on the floor. I had reached a point where I was now having very steady, rhythmic contractions. I had also discovered I could no longer walk around, pace or even have conversations in between contractions. I had to rest in between contractions now, and for me, that meant I needed to be lying down. During contractions, I would bury myself into the mattress and moan deeply. As the contractions began to get more and more intense and painful, my moans turned into deeper groans, louder roars. I could feel the roar building up, traveling slowly from deep inside my belly up to my throat and finally out of my mouth. The noise that came out of me was unrecognizeable. So raw. So primitive. So animal-like. I was a lioness with a roar. Okay, I was no lioness, but I was one raw mama warrior. It was at this point where I reached transition. With each contraction, I could feel the intense work my body was doing from within and my baby moving further down the birth canal, little by little. As these deep noises came out of me with each very painful contraction, it occured to me that I was now pushing. I felt a very clear sense of accomplishment with each passing contraction, and push. I felt my baby slowly traveling further down my pelvic bowl. While there is no way to explain the urge your body feels when it begins the surreal and monumental task of pushing a baby down and through the birth canal, it is not something that can be controlled or stopped. Neither are the noises that escapes ones mouth. Birth is so primitive and there's no room for self reflection at that moment. All modesty, vanity and self control vanishes as instinct kicks in.

Once I was sure that I was in fact pushing, I had to tell Catherine. She of course, already knew that. I, on the other hand was astonished that I was already so far along. I had expected, and was fully prepared, to continue to have these powerful contractions take control over me for several hours longer.  I was also shocked because I had not expected to feel as good about pushing as I was. It didn't physically feel good of course, it was painful. The most excruciating pain imaginable. It was actually even more painful than I had remembered Esperanzas birth. This seemed much more intense. This pain was not just Earth shattering, it shook the universe and it amazes me that no one else felt it. Several times I remember saying outloud, to no one in particular, "Oh my God, I forgot how much this hurts". I was also very hot. By this point, my entire birth team was there. Armando, Mary, Valerie, My Mom, Alisha, Catherine and her Assistant. Esperanza was still in the back room, somehow sleeping right through my roars. Armando was keeping himself busy by doing dishes in the kitchen.

Alisha was lying close to me, holding my hand. I queezed with all my strength when a contraction took over me. At some point, my mom switched places and I was squeezing her hand. I think I tried biting her wrist a few times. She put cold compresses on my forehead to cool me off. Catherine was at my feet, leaning back against the coat closet door, with a smile. She must have received the message that it was time to take a closer look, and when she did, my baby's head was very close. She and her assistant brought the birthing supplies closer (towels and such), preparing for the birth.

At the next contraction, I really felt like I was going to explode. There was so much presure. I was a very different feeling than I had felt when Esperanza was born. I felt my skin stretching and bulging in places I didn't remember. I envisioned it exploding and asked Catherine why there was so much preasure. It was the water bag, it was still intact, unbroken. Catherine practices little to no intervention as a midwife, and those were my wishes. The water bag would break on it's own, when it was ready to. But still, this water bag was really causing a lot of discomfort as my baby was making his way out. As Ezra's head crowned, inside of the water bag, I reached my hand down and felt the little bit of his head that was beginning to emerge from between my legs. I didn't want to loose focus and be caught off gaurd when the next contraction came so I quickly withdrew my arm and allowed myself to fall back into that bordering place where I saw labor land, yet still heard and sensed the people and feelings surrounding my body and child.

I pushed through the next contraction. I grunted from deep within, focused so intently on my core, my baby, my body, my desire to end this excruciating yet magical moment and hold my baby. In the distance, I heard Catherine tell me not to push too hard. She didn't want me to tear. I didn't listen. My body didn't listen. The idea of tending to a wound was much more appealing than letting this contraction end and having to endure yet another one. The contraction continued and I kept pushing. It lasted so long, the pain was like none other and I knew I could push him out with this one contraction and all the pain would go away after. I pushed so hard, for so long and let out the deepest loudest cry. I knew that it is the strongest and most uncomfortable contractions that do the most work, and I wasn't going to let it go. I managed to gather another burst of deeper strength and pushed even harder with muscles I didn't even know existed. I felt my babies body slide completely out of me. And then relief. Instantaneously the pressure disappeared, the pain was gone. Completely. I opened my eyes. Catherine had caught my baby then laid him down next to me. I took several long breathes, stroaked his slimy pinkish-purple little body with my hands, then picked him up and laid him on my chest. He was perfect. It was 3:21 a.m. on Saturday morning, June 10th, 2011.

I birthed the placenta and spent a long time in a euphoric stage snuggling with Ezra. He latched on to nurse easily as Catherine assisted a bit. I was able to squeeze out a few drops of colostrum for him. I passed him off so the others could hold him and take pictures. Catherine stitched me up, everything got cleaned up, I took a shower, people began to go home, the assistant prepped the placenta for encapsulation, Ezra got weighed and checked out and then Armando, Ezra and I snuggled up to relax for a bit. As the sun began to rise, everyone but Catherine and her assistant had left. Ezra lay asleep next to me. A very sleepy Esperanza emerged from the hallway, wonder in her eyes. She laid down next to me on the opposite side of me as Ezra. She was so sleepy. I asked her if she wanted to meet her brother. Before she could process my question and respond, I cleared a visual path for her to view Ezra. Her eyes widened and she was in awe. We were now a beautiful family of four.

Some things to remember about Ezra's birth:

- His left hand was up near his cheek when he was born (this must explain why during the third trimester it felt like a hand was ready to come out of me)
- Ezra cried a lot after birth but then settled down after he pooped enormous amounts of meconium, twice. 

- The water bag broke as Ezra's head crowned and the bag was all around his body as he was born.

- The umbilical cord had a knot in it. Fortunately, it was not tight.

- His APGAR score was 9.9 (his coloring wasn't 'apgar perfect')

- He was born on his first ultrasound due date

- I was in active labor for 4 hours and pushed for 21 minutes

And now, the picture story...