Where to start my son's birth story? On the day he was born? Or before that?
Our third decided his birth would not come unprepared and offered us not one, but two false starts. To prepare his siblings for his coming? To make sure we were ready?
To be quite honest, I had not been ready, even fearful of his arrival. Wondering if it had been a good idea to have a third, given that the other two were already demanding so much of me with their near constant fighting.
So came one Saturday and I noticed I had quite a lot of contractions... I went about my day, dropping off the eldest at horseback, going to the thrift store, having lunch... But the contractions kept on, strong and steady, but not at all alarming.
When we got home, I decided to see how much time was in between, as my midwife had to come from quite far. They were ten minutes apart, but steady.
I pmed my midwife on Facebook, telling her that I'd had quite regular contractions, so it could be near. Yet, by the time I wrote this message, my father in law and mother in law showed up. Unannounced.
And the contractions dead stopped. There would be no baby today!
This was a couple days before my official due date, which was the 8th of October. I'd given myself the 12th as the baby's birth date.
The week went by and nothing steady or regular came about.
The on Thursday - one day after the official due date - my husband went to work in France and I had an extreme bout of nesting, setting up everything for baby's arrival, cleaning the house, taking care of our animals. I hadn't had this amount of energy for weeks, so I wondered? Would it be near? I had incessant contractions throughout the day. My dad came to pick up my daughter so I could rest a bit in the afternoon. Even with rest, the contractions continued. And I cleaned and organised some more, doubting wether I should call my husband to come home. Wether I should inform my midwife or not.
By the time my husband was back, I was in quite a state and we decided to call the midwife to come over. We made the bed as we figured it could be somewhere during the night and we'd managed to sleep a little during the birth of our second child too.
Midwife arrived after dinner and we talked a lot. My contractions kept coming and by nighttime, they were getting quite intense.
I decided to go to bed and get some sleep while I still could. We'd put the kids to bed earlier.
I didn't sleep well that night, and by one in the morning, I knew it wouldn't be now. I felt guilty for having called my midwife and have her come over. I was pretty upset and didn't understand this coming and going of contractions, as I'd not experienced this with my two other children.
By morning, we wondered wether or not labour would continue, I went for a walk in the woods with my midwife, but decided it would be best she go home.
I consented to a vaginal exam, which I hadn't really wanted originally, but she wanted to make sure she wasn't leaving only to come back a few moments later; given the two hour drive. I was at three centimetres so she was ok going back.
In hindsight I'm not very happy having had the vaginal exam. I knew she could go home and it did push me off my balance at the time. Plus it hurt.
That was Friday morning. On Saturday morning, the 11th, I woke up and I knew it was on. BUt I didn't feel compelled to call my midwife again. I phoned my mom to take my daughter to horseback, so we'd have some time to get the last couple of things done.
By the time my daughter came back from horseback, I had been in and out of the birth pool several times. I'd paced around a lot. Had spend some quality time with my son in the birth pool. The yoga ball had stopped being useful as contractions became more intense and I felt like I was sitting on the babe's head. We tried watching an episode of Downton Abbey, but I couldn't concentrate on tv at all.
We had the fire going and it was a lovely sunny day.
I still hadn't called the midwife, as I knew it would make me feel inhibited, and I wasn't ready just yet to pop the lovely birthing bubble our family had formed. The kids walked around while I paced and sand and occasionally took hold of a chair to squat through contractions. Deep squatting really helped. Singing too (my oeuvre was mostly the Bastille CD, but also other songs on my birth playlist).
Somewhere in the afternoon, my daughter said it was time to call Leen (the midwife), and I told my husband she might be right. Initially I'd considered calling when my water would break.
Around the same time, it became too difficult for me to have the kids splashing around in the birth pool with me, so my husband took our son to watch something on tv and my daughter stayed to play doula. She sat beside the pool and held my hand.
I'd also found that positive moaning was more productive and meant less intense contractions, so I was alternating singing and "yes!". My husband came in and said he wouldn't let in Leen when she arrived, and I'd just have to shout if I wanted her there. I nodded, that was exactly how I wanted it.
When she arrived I was already pretty deep in laborland. He escorted her though the other door into the living room, my daughter was still by my side. Apparently she'd told him "this won't take very long", given the intensity of my "yes"-es. She was also quite surprised about the "yes" and the singing.
My water broke and I asked my daughter to get Leen to come and check wether it was clear. She did, like a pro, I may add.
Leen came in and said everything was clear, and asked if she could sit there, next to the pool. I was ok with that. The next contraction was huge and intense and seriously downward. It became clear that baby had seriously moved through the birth canal with the sack intact and I'd never even noticed. That one contraction was seriously painful, as if with the breaking of the water, he'd taken a wrong course and I felt like he'd break my tailbone.
"He's wrong, I have to move around" I said.
Leen suggested to get on all fours, but I felt like I couldn't move. She said to breathe and turn. Which I did.
It took another push for his head to be half born.
The another push for the rest of the head.
And with one more push, my new baby was born.
I took my baby and let him float in the water. It was pretty magical. I called out for my husband and kids to come, looking at the baby in the water. He was perfect. He opened his eyes slightly and stirred his limbs.
I called out again, then Leen said to take him out of the water.
My daughter got to cut the cord with her daddy.
We had been guessing about his weight when I was pregnant (given that our son was 4kg710). He seemed really tiny.
Yet he weighed 4kg225 and measured a whopping 54cm!!