birth stories | Two Rivers Childbirth

Community Birth Story: Aaron Matthais

By Two Rivers Childbirth
February 7, 2014
Birth Stories Project

As told by Jessica:

My husband Spencer and I learned we were expecting our first child in the Spring of 2013. We had been trying off and on for years, and had nearly given up hope. I managed to keep my pregnancy a secret from Spencer for over a week. Over a nice dinner out, I finally alerted him that, “Our love has a life of its own now!”

The next several months passed quickly and our anticipation steadily grew. In the summer, on our routine 20 week ultrasound, we found out we were expecting a boy–which my husband had already proclaimed with conviction from the moment I broke the news. We had already been referring to my growing bump as “he”!

It was an uneventful, naturally progressing pregnancy. As both a glutton for knowledge and at times a somewhat anxious person, I read everything I could get my hands on about pregnancy and labor and delivery. I talked to everyone I knew who was “in the know”. I wanted to be mentally prepared for anything. I also wanted to know the “right” things to do to give my baby the best start.
There was never any question that I wanted a natural, vaginal birth with as little intervention as possible, though I’ve always felt most comfortable with the hospital setting, just in case. I made a birth plan to make sure my wishes were known and followed when possible—everything flexible of course for the health of me and baby. I also obtained the service of a birth doula, Natalie, who was an invaluable resource both prenatally and for the birth.

My original due date was December 12, 2013. Two days earlier, I had contractions that I though for sure would progress since I hadn’t had any false contractions and they lasted all night into mid-morning. But then they stopped dead. The same thing happened every couple days or so for the next several days, so I stopped getting excited about it. By this time I was very ready to get the baby out!
I was getting more and more nervous as the days went by, as the hospital and obstetric practice I used has a policy of inducing labor at 41 weeks. I knew inducing increased your likelihood of a Cesarean section—which was my biggest fear. I was scheduled for a fetal stress test and ultrasound to make sure everything was still alright on December 23.

Fortunately, on December 18th at 8:53pm, my water broke in a gush in my driveway as I got home from a local church function. As someone who likes to have expectations, I was not expecting that at all! I called my healthcare provider and my doula, and then sent a text to my husband to come straight home from taking his last law school final of the semester (which he amazingly finished also at 8:53pm). The plan was to head to the hospital to ensure my membranes had ruptured and to put me on a monitor to see if I was having contractions—if so, they would then admit me and our doula would meet us there.

I felt no contractions, so I was surprised when they hooked me up and alerted me that I was indeed having contractions, and that they were already 3-4 minutes apart. What I felt at that point had been going on for at least 3 weeks and wasn’t even as intense as menstrual cramps! I was only 2 cm dilated and 50% effaced however, and 4 weeks prior I had already been 1 ½ cm dilated. I was very disappointed, thinking that this meant I’d have a long labor.

Our doula, Natalie, arrived shortly after. She and my husband and I walked the halls of the hospital labor and delivery ward till about 2:30am on December 19, interrupted only briefly by a deceleration on the baby’s intermittent monitoring at 1:00am. I was given two bags of IV fluids and monitored while side-lying for 15 minutes while they made sure the baby was ok; and gratefully he was.
My contractions had ramped up quickly and steadily since I was admitted shortly after 11:00pm. By 2:30am, I didn’t really want to swap stories with Spencer and Natalie anymore, and walking was no longer pleasant. I switched to laboring on the birth ball until about 3:30am. I had been avoiding getting rechecked because I was afraid with how little dilated I was at admittance that I would be progressing slowly; I didn’t want to be disheartened by the information. So I was thrilled to find I had from 11:00pm to 3:30am progressed to 7 cm and 75% effaced, -2 station! The time I spent from 7 to 9 cm dilation was only 29 minutes, but it was definitely the most intense. I spent this time in the hospital’s shower, with Natalie using the handheld shower head to direct the hot water over my pelvis where the contractions were most intense. All the while she recited Catholic prayers, which served to bring me comfort and ground me even more, though I was so overtaken with the contractions that I couldn’t participate in reciting them myself. I felt I had to mentally and spiritually pull into myself to get through it—it was all I could do to even barely open my eyes, the pain was so intense.

During this time of transition, I became very vocal, and stayed such for the rest of my labor. The nurses rushed in concerned I was pushing in the shower. When they asked me if I felt like pushing, the best I could answer was, “I don’t know. I don’t know.” They compelled me to get out of the shower, into the bed, and they rechecked me—9 cm dilated, 100% effaced, and +1 station! The obstetrician then came in and alerted us I was actually at full dilation except for a small section of the right side of my cervix. Until that last bit thinned, she told me I had to delay pushing or else risk rupturing my cervix. I spent 40 grueling minutes at this stage—the period of rest that some people have between transition and pushing did not happen for me. I had to pant through contraction after contraction, and I locked all my attention and energy on my doula and her instructions. The doctor had left temporarily and came back when I finally had had enough. I rarely use profanity, but I shouted in simultaneous anger and desperation to the nurses to, “Go get the damn doctor—I need to push!”
That inner lip was still there when the doctor came in a minute or so later, but thankfully she was able to manually move it out of the baby’s way. Finally I could push! As I had heard, pushing wasn’t nearly as intense as transition; I’m sure part of it is knowing the crowning glory (pun intended) of labor is near! It was at that time 4:57am.

Spencer and I’s son, Aaron Matthias, came quickly after that, and was born only 48 minutes later at 5:45am. I did end up getting an episiotomy, because his head was larger than we expected. I hear it never goes completely as expected though, so it’s ok! I did get to have my desired natural vaginal birth, my rite of passage into motherhood. Not to mention a beautiful new baby, who was a very healthy 8lb 7oz at 20 inches long!

I got to hold Aaron immediately skin to skin. I was so happy I was crying tears of joy and laughing at the same time! Spencer was as proud as I’ve ever seen him. We both spent that first hour just enamored with our son–the new soul God allowed and entrusted us to bring into the world. I’m so grateful for the support that I had throughout the pregnancy and labor and delivery from all the healthcare providers involved and especially from my husband, family, friends, and my doula. I strongly believe they all were vital for the positive birth experience I had, and for setting the tone for Spencer and I to have the best beginning possible with our son.

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Click HERE to learn more about the Community Birth Stories Project or to submit your own birth story.

Community Birth Story: Julian Ellwood

By Two Rivers Childbirth
February 4, 2014
Birth Stories Project

As told by Ashley:

The birth of Julian Ellwood was a long process, and I mean a long process even in the world of birthing babies. I had contractions for over a month, starting before my due date, and lasting 2 weeks after. When I say “I had contractions for over a month”, I don’t mean Braxton-Hicks. I don’t mean that I had occasional contractions. I mean that I had contractions that would last for a minute, 5 minutes apart, for hours. I would fall asleep at night, wake at 8AM, and they would have stopped. We had many false alarms, many “Maybe this is it” moments, and finally, I stopped tracking my contractions.

I was frustrated and exhausted. At estimated 40 weeks, I had an appointment with Liz, my midwife, and she checked me for progress, to put my mind at ease and she found that I hadn’t dilated at all. I went home defeated, still having contractions.

Every day, I went for walks. I did yoga. I climbed the stairs, up and down. I ate spicy foods. I did squats in the grocery store. I got chiropractic adjustments. I had acupuncture. I tried everything within my power to get this sweet, stubborn little boy to come earthside.

At almost 42 weeks, I had another appointment. I had been up through most of the night before with contractions every 4-5 minutes, and had all but given up when they stopped sometime in the early morning. My appointment was on March 7, 2013, my cousin Joshua’s birthday. I had made a joke to him that we were going to try to have a birthday for his birthday when I left for my appointment.

At the appointment, Liz and I discussed home induction methods, because my labor had not yet progressed. We discussed castor oil and black/blue cohosh, and decided that if I made it to Monday with no sign of a baby, I would go in for an ultrasound to make sure that everything was okay with my little guy. Then, we would start with castor oil. I was dreading it, but I wanted so badly for my son to be born after all of the nights of anxiously waiting for him.

Before I left the office, Liz suggested checking my cervix for progress again to make sure that I would be ready for induction. If my cervix was not effaced, it would be pointless for me to try and induce labor. With my aunt, Yvette, at my side, I was prepared to hear the same thing I had heard almost 2 weeks prior. Instead, I heard Liz gasp audibly. Then, she started to laugh. Alarmed, I asked her “Why are you laughing? You don’t just laugh and not tell me what is going on!” She looked at me and said, “You’re going to have a baby, soon! You’re 5 to 6 centimeters dilated!” Incredulous, Yvette asked her how often someone comes into their office not knowing that they are in active labor. Liz’s response was “First time mothers? Never.”

That night, the contractions stopped again.
The following day, a Friday, I asked my cousins Joshua and Kaila to accompany me walking in Shepherdstown. We walked for over an hour. Meanwhile, I felt my contractions pick up again. I didn’t mention them to anyone and tracked them myself. I did not want to get my hopes up only to be disappointed again. At this point, it had been more than 24 hours since my appointment.

We arrived home after 7PM and I discretely informed Yvette, that she should call the family members over who wanted to be there for the birth. My contractions had gotten to about 7 minutes apart but I just knew this was it.

My cousin Laura arrived about an hour later and we set up in the living room. Kaila, Laura, Yvette, and I put on some of our favorite funny television show episodes and I milled about my living room, occasionally using my birth ball to lean on, or getting on all fours to rock my hips. My contractions got progressively stronger and continued to get closer together. They were never consistent, but they were closer together. Around 11PM or midnight, I got in the big Jacuzzi tub in our master bathroom. It was exactly what I needed. Time passed quickly in the tub and I had the ladies bringing me cold wet cloths and drinks. Around 3AM, Yvette called Liz and our birth assistant Shawna. Shawna and Liz arrived, finally, around 4AM. I was incredibly relieved to see them, which Laura caught in a beautiful photo.

When Liz arrived, she asked to listen to Julian’s heartbeat. I stayed in the tub and she used a Doppler device on my belly. When it took her longer than 30 seconds to find it, I started to worry. Around a minute into it, she asked me to get out of the tub. She could not find his heartbeat.

My stomach dropped.

We transitioned into the bedroom and I laid on the bed in various positions and she could briefly find his heartbeat but it was quiet and intermittent. At that point, Liz looked at me and said we were going to the hospital. There was no discussion and we all got dressed and ready and hopped in our vehicles.

We arrived at the hospital around 5AM. At that point, I was around 7-8 centimeters dilated. The nurse hooked me up to fetal monitors and started my IV. I vaguely remember threatening to have my cousin Laura insert the IV if they blew another one of my veins.

The hours passed slowly. I felt defeated. My Liz, Shawna, Yvette, and Laura were allowed to stay in my room and they were wonderful supports to have. I was exhausted beyond measure and nodded out between contractions. My doctor, at some point, mentioned that if Julian was not born by 6PM, I would be having a c-section. I was desperate and wondered aloud to the women with me if I should just give up and take the c-section. My back labor was extremely painful and every few minutes, the nurse was making me move positions because Julian’s heart rate would drop.

Around 4PM, Liz implored me to take Pitocin. She asked Yvette to have a talk with me. And, though it was something I had rallied against in my birth plan, I finally broke down and agreed to it. At this point, I had been 9 and ¾ centimeters dilated since around noon. I agreed on one condition, that I was allowed to reevaluate in half an hour and I had the right to have them stop the Pitocin.

I was on the Pitocin for about an hour and a half and I went somewhere else, mentally. I felt so different than I had. My contractions centralized and I no longer had back labor. I was, though, too tired to talk.
After the hour and a half, Liz told me that I should get an epidural. She knew it was not a part of my birth plan but she also knew that I needed rest. And, if I ended up needing a c-section, I would already have the catheter in for a spinal block. I felt so frustrated with my body. This was not how I had imagined my son’s birth.

The doctor told my birth team to take some time to get dinner and rest up as it was bound to be a while before the epidural was through. An anesthesiologist arrived and prepped my back for the epidural, as my nurse took my hands and had me curl around a pillow. Just before they started the epidural, I had a contraction. I looked up at the nurse and she sensed my panic. She asked me if I was okay and I said “I’m pushing. I’m pushing and I can’t stop.” She asked me to try my hardest not to move because at that point they had started inserting the epidural and if it came out they would have to start over.

In the next 15 or so minutes, my birth team was back and doctors and nurses came in the room in a flurry to set up for delivery. I was prepped and my birth team members assembled around me. I remember asking Yvette to put her hand on my belly because the epidural had numbed me so much that I didn’t know when I was having a contraction. Julian’s head crowned quickly and then all of a sudden, a nurse was on top of me pressing down on my pelvis. In a quick movement, Julian was out and on my chest briefly before they whisked him away. He was purple and floppy. I heard him cry briefly and then he stopped. I laughed with joy just knowing that he was out. Something in me knew that he would be okay.

A few minutes later, he started crying.

I found out that, later, that Julian had many more obstacles than expected. He had passed meconium in utero about a week prior and his skin was stained green in places because of it. He had lost weight because he was “overbaked” and had hanging skin on his belly and upper arms. He had aspirated at birth and had trouble breathing so they had to give him breathing assistance and suction his airway. His head had been flexed and had a pretty impressive cone shape. There was also very little amniotic fluid left in his sac. My membranes had never ruptured and when they had tried to rupture them in the hospital, no fluid had come out. He also had a shoulder dystocia. The nurse had climbed on top of me to try to open up my pelvis more, to turn Julian and pull him out. Julian was a little dehydrated, but he was healthy.

Julian Ellwood McElwee was born on March 9th at 5:53PM, just 7 minutes shy of his deadline. He was 8 lbs, 4.2 oz and 20 inches long.
My favorite moment was captured in a photo. The relief on everyone’s faces as Julian started to cry was evident to everyone.

It was important to me to share all of the details of Julian’s birth. It taught me one beautiful thing, if nothing else. I cannot control the Universe. His birth may not have been what I had wanted. But his birth empowered me in a way I had been told it would, but that I just didn’t understand until he was here.

Photography by www.LauraRenePhotography.com

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Click HERE to learn more about the Community Birth Stories Project or to submit your own birth story.

Community Birth Story: Iris Adela

By Two Rivers Childbirth
February 4, 2014
Birth Stories Project

As told by Kristin:

January 2 2007, I gave birth via planned caesaren of our first child, Fiona. She had been breech the entire pregnancy and after many attempts to flip her, the midwives I had been seeing transferred my care to an OB. I was told by him that vaginal birth would not be safe (or allowed in their hospital) and if I went into labor then my husband would not be allowed in the OR. So we scheduled my C-section for 39 weeks. I was crushed and cried for days. I had prepared for a natural birth and without even the option to go into labor I felt like I had been robbed of a rite of passage into motherhood. Fiona was born healthy and the whole experience went as smoothly as it could. While it was not the birth I had envisioned, I fell in love deeply with her and with being a mother.

When we started planning for a second child I knew I HAD to experience labor and birth. I also knew my best chances to have a successful VBAC would be at home. Fortunately, I live in a community where I have many friends who have had homebirths and even HBACs, so I felt incredibly supported. A positive pregnancy test in August 2012 was exciting for many reasons of course, but at the top of my list was the possibility of an HBAC. After exploring local options I felt even more excited when I “clicked” with my midwife Zaina.

Fast forward to April 9 2013, my EDD. Contractions start and I am thrilled! Finally I get to feel labor! I was suffering horrible allergies though and was a little panicked that I wouldn’t be successful delivering at home. Again, “my tribe” comes to my rescue with encouragement and support. Throughout my pregnancy I had surrounded myself with women (and even some men!) who felt the value of birth. These friends helped me mourn and work through the birth I had lost. They didn’t tell me “at least you have a healthy baby,” but validated my feelings of loss over having had a c-section. Equally as important, they were my sounding boards when I had decisions to make, fears and questions. I truly had a birth team emotionally and physically. Even now I can not delete the texts and messages that were sent back and forth during labor. I cherish the love I felt from my birthing goddess friends.

The 9th and 10th came and went. Contractions consistently 20 minutes apart. My hips and legs ached. Friends came to offer comfort and my contractions would fizzle out. I don’t even remember how many times my friend Bergen drove the hour out to my house. Fiona was such a trooper on these days since I really wasn’t very available to her. I was not sleeping well at night between the contactions and allergies and starting to wonder why in the heck I had ever wanted to experience labor!

On the 11th Bergen and Karen came to offer help. My husband, Lonnie, had also taken that day off of work. Zaina came by for my prenatal and I asked her to check me. She didn’t tell me how dilated I was but did say I was making good progress and to try and rest between contractions. I later found out she had told Lonnie that I was 3cm. Lonnie took Fiona out of the house and after enjoying a sushi lunch with Bergen and Karen, I decided to go and try to rest. Lonnie came home not long after, so Karen took Fiona out so that we could have some peace and quiet. Lonnie enjoyed a much needed nap but I could not sleep. The contractions were STILL steadily 20 minutes apart and they hurt much worse when I was laying down.

After Lonnie put Fiona to bed I figured it would be another long night of no sleep so indulged in a glass of wine to help me relax. It was really calming to have the darkened house and some time alone with Lonnie. The past few days had been filled with excitement and visitors so we really needed these moments to reconnect and chat. My birthing ball and shower were becoming my best friends as I was just going back and forth between the two. Our shower has a seat in it so I would sit bent over and just let the water pound on my back. When a contraction would come I would lean into them or get down on my knees and lean my head on the seat. The rhythmic hot water stream really helped me to zone out and I feel aided in my progressing. It was also helpful zoning out on the T.V. It was actually during Conan that I realized my contractions were much closer together and more intense. Lonnie started keeping track of them and around midnight made the calls to Zaina, Karen and Bergen.

I couldn’t sit still. Laying hurt. Sitting hurt. Well, everything hurt. Rocking, leaning, swaying and squatting helped. I was also becoming much more vocal. The pain was becoming much more than I was prepared for. I couldn’t get myself to visualize through the pain and felt like my contractions were “owning me.” I remember telling Lonnie that I wanted to feel in control of them but I felt like they were in control of me. I needed his encouragement through them. Lonnie would remind me that I could do it and that I was bigger than the pain I felt. Zaina helped me find “my voice” and positions that felt better.

I had taken so many showers the hot water was gone so we had to wait to fill up the birth pool. Most of that time I spent either on my knees leaning my upper body on my birth ball or standing and hanging off of Lonnie. Moving, swaying and rocking during the rushes really helped me find a use of the energy I was feeling.

Finally the hot water was back and Lonnie filled the pool. The hot water was so soothing. I really enjoyed it for awhile but it didn’t “take away the pain” like I was wishing. Fiona and I had made an “affirmation wall” and reading the words on it couldn’t have come at a better time. I focused on certain lines and words during contractions. Friends had sent me inspirational gifts, pictures, stories and poems that I also read in between and felt uplifted and surrounded by their love. I didn’t feel like I could get a very good grip or leverage while standing or squatting in the pool, so decided to get out. I couldn’t figure out where I wanted to be and am so thankful for Zaina making suggestions of where and how to try. I felt like I made a circle of our upstairs between the bed, the toilet and the pool. Nothing felt right. I never felt scared but I did feel helpless.

Our baby’s head was very engaged and I was feeling really intense pressure. I kept thinking that I needed to use the bathroom but sitting on the toilet was more than I could handle. I started feeling a very strong urge to push. This was probably the most difficult part of the whole experience. Everything inside of me begged to push but I knew if I did before I was fully dilated that it would cause more problems. Talk about a lesson in self control!!!

I still just didn’t feel “right” anywhere upstairs so decided I wanted to go downstairs. Looking back I am so thankful that I felt this urge because I believe walking down those stairs really sped things up by pushing baby down further. I ended up on my hands and knees in our living room and had “the big mama” contraction. It felt like it was never going to end and I remember thinking to myself that surely it was impossible to die from pain. I was really loud. Lonnie jokes that it sounded like Satan coming out of me! My water broke and I threw up (gosh did that feel good!) My friend Shanna, who was Zaina’s assistant, arrived. Or maybe she got there sooner? I must have been in transition at this point because everything became very foggy like I was in a dream. People were talking and gathering things and it felt like I was not really there. I remember Shanna talking to me and kept thinking that I wanted to be friendly with her but couldn’t. (Although when she sneezed I did manage to say “bless you.”) I was so focused inward at this point a parade of all my best friends could have been there and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I didn’t like being on my hands and knees anymore and wanted to stand. I also wanted to push sooooo bad. It hurt even worse to hold back. I still had ” a little lip” and felt like I was going to cry. Actually I think I did. Zaina told me to hang in there for 2 more contractions. Ah, a goal! During all of this I was hanging on Lonnie. He was just like a big tree for me to lean on. His neck and shoulders hurt for days afterwards.

When I was given the O.K. to push it was like the heavens opened up and angels were singing. It may sound strange that pushing a baby out would feel good, but oh my goodness it did! Finally, something I could put the pain and energy towards! I loved pushing and only remember it hurting when I tore alittle. I can’t remember exactly how long I pushed but it felt like it went by really quickly. In between contractions I would completely go limp and Lonnie would hold me up while I gained strength for the next push.

Karen had run upstairs just before the baby started to crown to get Fiona out of bed. She had been very excited the whole pregnancy about seeing her baby sister or brother be born and had become quite a big fan of watching youtube homebirth videos. She still asks to watch them.

So here I was, hanging on Lonnie. One foot propped up on our ottoman. Squatting into the pushes. Fiona sitting in our “big chair” watching. Our family of 3 becoming a family of 4. At 6:39am on Friday April 12 2013 I gave birth in the living room of our home. Zaina caught our baby and told us to reach down and grab her. I told Lonnie to help me, that I was afraid I would drop her. I was shaking from the adrenaline. Fiona announced that it was a sister. I sat down and met this new person. I remember thinking ” I did it. I actually did it.”

Everything from that point was sort of in slow motion. Karen told me to reach down and feel the blood pulsing in the cord. It was a surreal moment to feel and know that all this blood from my body was passing into this new little body.

It took us a week to decide, but we gave our sweet new baby the name Iris Adela Potts. Adele is my grandmothers name who was named after her Aunt Adela. Fiona’s middle name is Rose so she had requested her sister be given a flower name too. Iris was decided on because while in labor it had starting storming until right before she was born. Iris is the goddess of the rainbow. Iris is an amazing addition to our lives and I am more and more in love with her little soul every day.

I’ve been asked if labor and childbirth are what I had thought they would be and if I am glad I did it at home. It hurt way more than I could have imagined. Had I been in a hospital I would have begged for medication. I would have taken any drug offered! Which makes me even more thankful that I was at home where that was not an option. I was forced to tap into myself. I begged for help during the most intense contractions, and while my birth team could certainly assist me, I was the only one who could ultimately get me through. Lonnie was “my drug”. He was my rock. It brought us closer together than I could have imagined. I have so much new love and respect for him and his strength.

Having had a completely unnatural, intervened, hospital birth via C-section and a homebirth there is no comparison. I love Fiona and am thankful she was born into our lives and know I made the best choice I knew at the time for my family. I have finally made peace with it and am thankful for what the experience taught me. The unmedicated home experience, however, was as raw, real and beautiful as life gets. It has shown me how amazing my body is. I did it. With the help of my wonderful midwife and birth team, I learned how strong I really could be. I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to birth the way my body needed to and to have been surrounded by people who believed in my body and my baby. Just because I had had a C-section my body wasn’t broken and my birth team knew that, even when I doubted it.

I told Lonnie we can never get rid of the ottoman I had my leg propped up on. I walk past “the area” in our living where Iris was born and the memories of her birth come flooding back. It feels so good to finally write them down and share them.

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Click HERE to learn more about the Community Birth Stories Project or to submit your own birth story.