Hazel Belle Marie!
Giving birth to Hazel was an exercise
in thought control, my own thought, that is. Her birth felt like a
mind game (and like giving birth!). I had to surf so many feelings of
confusion and fear. It also was a wonderful experience of putting
what I know and believe about healthy labor into practice, aka being
nice and thankful.
Hazel is my first baby to be born
before my due date; she was due on Christmas Day. I had hoped she
would come early, but I was, of course, expecting her to be “late”
like her brothers. The only thing that went similarly to my first two
births was the fact that I had lots and lots of prelabor. I knew I
was dilated for a long time leading up to the day she was actually
born. After a few nights of pretty intense prelabor and a lot of
feeling like she was so low she was just going to fall out, I did
start wondering if maybe, just maybe, this baby may come before
Christmas.
Each night I'd have contractions that
would organize and seem real for about 2 or 3 hours, and I'd think
about whether I wanted to get up and lean into the labor or go to
sleep. Tempting as getting up to run around the block would seem, I
always decided to choose sleep. On baby #3, you're no dummy! ALWAYS
CHOOSE SLEEP! One night, things felt more serious than usual as we
sat in our Christmasy living room and read about Bilbo Baggins in the
tunnels of the goblins with a mysterious, phlegmy creature, and I
figured that if there was any semblance of continued contractions in
the morning I'd see if maybe we could do something about it. In the
morning, I was still having pretty consistent contractions even
though they weren't very painful, so I decided to check in with
Cindie. I had the sense that if I could just get ideal conditions
going, like having my children in a safe, happy place, getting
everything ready for the homebirth, and spending some relaxed time
with Brendan, that maybe the labor would finally pick up.
During our call, Cindie agreed that
December 20th would be a great day to have a baby (for all our
schedules!), and that maybe doing some walking would be a good idea
and that consideration of stripping the membranes could be ok too. We
shipped the boys off to their grandparents and decided to go walk
around U.Village. Being 5 days before Christmas, it was crispy-cold
and glittering with lights and holiday cheer. My contractions stayed
consistent and started to intensify a bit. Brendan kept track and was
encouraging. After a while, we called Cindie who was very positive
that this could be the day. She suggested we eat, and we set up a
time to meet Amanda at the office for some checking and cervical
massage. After lunch, Brendan and I headed to The Herbalist to buy
some last minute supplies like herbs for post-partum baths and witch
hazel :). The woman at the cash register asked when I'd be having my
baby, and we said “probably today!” She expressed doubt because,
of course, I wasn't showing enough, and people who are not you or
your midwife know a lot more about your due date than you do.
As we headed over to Midwife Seattle to
get checked, I talked with Brendan about my anxiety that it was all
going to be rocket-fast and scary or much harder than Ivo's sweet
birth and that I wasn't going to handle it well. He reassured me that
I might indeed lose it, and that would be just fine. He, Brenna,
Cindie, and Amanda would all be there to help me, so I didn't need to
keep it together for anyone if I just couldn't. We also reminded each
other again and again that day that God is good all the time. Amanda
allayed my other fear that I wasn't actually in labor and was being
impatient and jumping the gun when she checked me and declared me 6
or 7 centimeters dilated. Hooray! She joked that she was worried I'd
just have the baby right there on the table! My contractions did pick
up a bit on the way home, and we made excited phone calls to my mom,
Bethany, and Brenna, and asked Brenna to come right over.
When we got home, we got right to work
setting things up, and Brenna had us call Cindie. I sat down to labor
with Brendan and rest, and everyone gathered in my bedroom. Things
slowed WAY down, and Cindie checked me. She could easily push me to 8
centimeters, but declared that she didn't think I was in active labor
yet. I agreed. It just didn't feel serious enough. I was discouraged
and confused, and I worried that maybe I wasn't going to have my baby
that day. I also felt like one of my fears was coming true: everyone
was there and waiting, and I wasn't performing. I realize, of course,
and even realized then, that they didn't mind and that I wasn't
required to perform to any specifications, but it still felt
frustrating. Brenna and I went on a quick, very cold walk around some
blocks to see if we could kick things up. It worked! Still, though,
the rest of the afternoon and evening unfolded slowly.
Though very stop and start, my
contractions were consistent and escalating in intensity. I finally
stopped worrying that I wasn't really in labor and tried to enjoy
myself. Brendan and I continued the hug technique that we developed
during Ivo's birth, and I enjoyed the snuggling and sitting in front
of our wood-burning stove next to my beautifully lit Christmas tree.
(Side note: I wondered if I was crazy for setting up a Christmas tree
when I knew I'd have a newborn baby when it was time to take it down.
I'M SO GLAD WE DID IT. It was such a lovely scene for having a baby.)
I ate jelly toast and drank coconut milk and basked in the warm
conversation of my friends. Amanda Richards came too :).
When things got more serious, Brendan
and I retreated to the bathroom where I labored the rest of the time.
If my contractions slowed or I started getting scared (because of the
pain or fear that it was going to keep stopping/starting and take
FOREVER) we'd come out to get the encouragement of our friends. I was
very active throughout the labor and kept making myself change
positions. My rest between contractions was somewhat relieving but
Hazel was VERY active. I could feel her twisting and turning. I'm no
expert, but I'm almost certain that she was in a face-up position
(meaning her head was down but her nose was towards my pubic bone
instead of my tail bone). I think she was spiraling around to get out
in the best direction. Her twisting and turning was pretty
uncomfortable, but it did keep me thinking about the prize at the end
of the trial!
Now for a little interjection about
Brendan. He was awesome. Warm, consistent, encouraging, prayerful,
and wearing the same shirt he had on when Ivo was born. He's a man of
little variation (at least when it comes to fashion). Naturally, he
was hungry, and he ate smelly (delicious smelling, but still...
smelling) lentils that our lovely friend had brought over. I felt
like a saint to put up with it, but it felt good to do something nice
for someone else. I'm ALL about gratitude, appreciation, kindness,
optimism, and hugging during labor. They help a lot. It's
scientifically proven! As it is said in Dune:
“fear is the mind-killer.” In other words, fear and anxiety cause
the release of adrenaline which makes labor more difficult. Happy,
lovey feelings, though, promote the release of oxytocin, a “feel
good” hormone which causes uterine contractions. But I digress...
Brendan
and I are at our best when I'm in labor. I have to trust him and be
thankful, and he has to pay careful attention to me and use his calm,
cool logic to encourage me. And I do love the hugging.
My
favorite part of the whole thing, though, was at the end of my active
labor stage and the start of my pushing phase. The ladies had all
been enjoying their night off together in my living room and
providing a lovely, warm, camaraderic background to my birth. BUT,
just I was thinking these contractions had to be getting close to
their peak, I made a very different kind of sound, and suddenly all
the ladies were at the bathroom door asking how I was doing. It was
so cool. They are so well-educated and experienced. Just hearing my
noise change told them instantly that I was ready to push. I think I
said something about it feeling different when they asked how I was,
and Cindie asked if I was pushing. “Oh yeah!” I thought, “that's
what that is!” MIND GAME OVER! It wasn't going to take forever!
That was around 10 PM; it had been about 8 hours since everyone got
to my house (but still felt to me like about 4).
I
hobbled to my bed and did side-lying, gentle pushing only when I had
the urge to do so. I had to pull really hard on Brendan's shoulders
to get through the contractions, and once I almost sprained his neck;
but, he forgave me! Things got very burny/sting-y, and I should have
know that I was crowning; but no one really said anything of the
sort, so I thought I still had a way to go. On one very strong
contraction and with the feeling of fire and brimstone I cried out to
God to help me, and I remember Brenna's voice telling me to keep
control. It was a good reminder! There was the worst feeling I had
ever known down there (remember: 2 prior natural births!), and I was
feeling afraid of what was to come. Unbeknown to me, however, I was
through the hard part. My baby was sitting on my perineum up to her
shoulders because, when I was crying to God for help, Hazel was
pushing her head out into the cool air of my bedroom. Cindie said
something like, “Jessica, can you lift your leg up, and we'll help
get her up to you?” What!? She's out?! I had no idea! Sure, I can
lift my leg! So, I did, and she twisted out the rest of the way and
was put on my chest. And for all that drama, no tear :).
I was
wildly happy and suddenly felt very tired. I love the afterward of
birth, especially at a homebirth. Everything is so calm and
comfortable (well, except for that you-just-had-a-baby feeling) and
fun and relaxed! We had so much fun checking out Hazel's beautiful
face, calling parents, and chatting about theology and the amazing
grace of God late into the night.
Things
got very hard over the next couple of weeks with illness, burst
eardrums (mine), two rounds of mastitis, horrible allergic reactions
(Ivo's), and a frenotomy (Hazel was tongue-tied, which was not a big
deal AT ALL, but I stressed about it). Still, though, we believed and
believed and believed that God is good all the time. All the initial
difficulty, made everything seem lovely by the time she was 3 weeks
old, and I was suddenly on my own each day with my THREE children.
I'd say it was the easiest transition yet. I still have trouble
sometimes, when I have a rough day, with feeling like I'm just not up
for the job. But, that's mostly because I expect myself to be nothing
but grateful and thrilled with my blessings from God every day of
their lives, and that's VERY UNREALISTIC. Having three (under 3.5!)
can be quite a challenge, but believing that God is good and that
they are gifts does make a huge difference in my ability to cope.
Now,
almost 6 months, later, I'm already sad that Hazie Belle is growing
up so, so fast. I keep thinking back to the early, early days of her
life when the boys were just getting to know her, and it's almost
more than I can bear that those days are already past. I love each
day. I may not like the specifics of each day, like the tantrums of
my newly minted two-year-old over his not being allowed to play with
his poop, the umpteenth talk with my almost-4-year-old about how,
even if he IS playing superhero we CANNOT pose in a threatening way
at said 2-year-old, the baby who slept 8 solid hours a night at age 4
weeks but only does 2-3 hour chunks now, the dead rats in my hot
water heater closet, and the constant, CONSTANT presence of clutter
in my everywhere, but with an eternal perspective, I love the company
of souls that I keep.
In
case you're wondering:
Yes.
We think we will have more. We definitely want to foster, adopt, or
both, but I also can't shake the feeling that I'd like to have
another birth. Lord willing, though, I'll be doing my doula
certification over the next year, so maybe I'll get it out of my
system by going to other people's births... but I doubt it!
