Community Birth Story: Julian Ellwood

Community Birth Story: Julian Ellwood

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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.

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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.

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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.

20140203-214116.jpgPhotography 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

Community Birth Story: Iris Adela

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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.

Community Birth Story: Pippa

Community Birth Story: Pippa

As told by Bergen:

By my best estimation the baby was “due” around December 25th or 26th, but I thought that, maybe, the stress of the holidays would bring her closer to the 24th. I also was convinced that she was a boy, so that just goes to show how much I know.

 

I’m not a big fan of the concept of a due date being a single day and I am more than happy to let a baby cook until done. While it was nice to spend our first Christmas in the new house as a family of three, by the 28th I was so uncomfortable with that big, big belly and worn out from weeks of prodromal labor every evening that my attitude was in serious decline. That evening, around the time that my contractions would usually start, I took one dose of blue cohosh. Half an hour later, a dose of black.

I don’t know if that was just some really potent stuff or, more likely, that by that action my brain told my body that I was ready to accept labor. This being our second baby, I had plenty of worries about how we might adjust to being a family of four. Either way, as Belle and I lay down for stories before bed at around 8:30 my water broke in a small trickle, gushing more over the next hour as the baby moved around. I didn’t have my water break with Belle and I was so thankful that this novel experience took place at home rather than, say, at the grocery store. Evan and Belle were both so excited! Evan went into hyper-clean mode, breaking out the vacuum, washing clothes and even cleaning out the car! We knew there was no way that Cora was going back to bed after this, so we put on a movie for her.

After my water broke we did a round of heads up phone calls; The midwife, Liz, my mom, Evan’s mom and texted my good friends Erika (who was planning to come for the birth) and Roshontia. I even told a small group of friends on Facebook, who kept me company digitally. Though my water broke we knew that didn’t necessarily mean that labor was imminent. I went to lay down and get some rest, but was too excited to even really sit still. Sure enough, an hour after my water broke the contractions started. Another round of phone calls and Facebook messages and texts. Ah, technology.

When the contractions started to get uncomfortable I slipped into my beautiful, deep soaking tub. The one extravagant thing that I asked for in our new house was a tub deep enough to labor in. I knew it would help me stay relaxed. Evan helped me keep track of the contractions. When we were both too distracted to do the math we found a free iPhone app contraction timer. This worked great until things started to get intense and we found out that the free version only held info for 10 contractions!  We quickly download the full version which at $0.99 seemed a bargain! About this time my mom and little sister Anam showed up. A quick hello and Anam went to be with Belle. Once the contractions were about 3 minutes apart we gave Liz the go ahead to come over. Erika arrived shortly there after and then Shanna, Liz’s apprentice. Party in my bathroom!

Evan stayed by my side supporting me over the side of the tub through every contraction. I could never do this without him. At about 2 AM Belle had enough. Overwhelmed by the hour, the excitement and the company she went across the street to Grandma Amy’s house for the rest of the night. Shortly thereafter I felt I was done in the tub and between contractions every minute or so apart made my way to our bedroom and my birth sling. Time had long since gone wibbly-wobbly so I don’t know how long I hung in the sling, but soon it was too intense and I wanted to be as close to the floor as possible on my hands and knees. It was helpful to have so many people surrounding me and supporting me emotionally and physically. Everyone already know each other (Liz has been a friend of my mom for years) and their banter kept me entertained between contractions. Mostly though I wanted to be quiet and focused during each contraction, and found myself doing a lot of sushing. I didn’t want to make noise or move much. Pretty soon both the baby and I were ready to be done. Pushing was so much more productive than with my first birth and the baby moved down quickly. With Belle I was so tired and inside my own head that I don’t remember much pain during pushing. Or much of anything during pushing. Rest assured that I felt this baby just fine!

When the baby crowned I thought we were done. I kept pushing but nothing much seemed to be happening. I heard someone mutter “oh, shit”. When I asked “did someone say shit” there was a long pause and then a fairly unbelievable “uh, no.” Then Shanna asked me to get up on one knee. Then Shanna PUT me up on one knee. Oh shit, indeed. It was obvious there was some kind of hold up. My mind went straight to a shoulder dystocia since one position to help the baby unstick is on one knee, a runners’s lunge, which opens the hips. Liz made some adjustments to the baby, but I didn’t know what and then the baby was out. I collapsed across Evan’s lap, plum exhausted. I caught my breath for a second and then realized that there was no crying. I heard Liz, Shanna and my mom asking the baby to please breathe now. Then passed a couple of years, or maybe seconds. Neither Evan nor I could bring ourselves to look. I couldn’t bear to ask how the baby was since the silence was beginning to speak for itself but I needed someone to talk to me so I asked about the baby’s gender. No one knew. Liz gave the baby a few breaths. Erika held my hand. Then a cry. And a baby girl.

Turns out that the cord was wrapped around her neck. Usually it’s the work of a moment to slip the cord over the baby’s head but apparently this cord was fairly short and crossed over itself so it didn’t have enough slack for slipping. The harder pulled the tighter it got. It was tight enough, I think, that the baby wasn’t progressing any more. By raising one knee my hips opened enough for Liz to untangle the cord a bit.

After the cord was done pulsing they clamped and cut and gave her a more extensive check out. Her throat seemed to be pretty irritated and she made small grunting noises for the first 8 hours or so. But she nursed easily, wasn’t having trouble breathing and her heart and lungs sounded just fine. It wasn’t an emergency that had required the medical intervention of a hospital because our midwives were there with their skilled hands to make sure the situation didn’t become one.

In all the fuss no one had looked at the clock. After consulting several iPhone pictures 3:20 AM was agreed upon as the most likely time of birth. She weighed 9lbs 8 oz and measured 21 1/4 inches long; the same size as her big sister but exactly one pound heavier. I blame Christmas.

The placenta came without a problem and was wrapped up to be sent out for encapsulation.

I had a few shallow tears, but we agreed that no stitches were necessary. I had some pretty bad tears the first time around and would almost have rather given birth again than have needles jabbed in some very tender places for an hour. I remember the topical pain killer having very little effect. After pains suck, though. A lot. Even more with babe numba two.

It had been 7 and 1/2 hours from water breaking to placenta; a far cry from my first almost 40 hour labor. Evan joked that if the length of my labors decreased by the same ratio then the next kid would come in an hour and a half! This was a much more empowering birth for me. I felt like I was participating rather than just along for the wild ride. Since I’d done this birth thing before I felt I had some idea what I was doing. I’ve also been learning more and more about birth since becoming a postpartum doula. Being surrounded by loved ones (both physically and digitally) helped my attitude tremendously. We didn’t know anyone with children when Belle was born, let alone know so many fabulous families who respect birth and genuinely love family building.

Seeing that all was well, everyone decamped and headed home to grab a few hours of sleep before starting their days. Erika and Anam stayed for a few days to help out. Roshontia brought us dinner.

 

Belle is simply head over heals for Pippa and proud to be a big sister. I melts my heart to hear her talking to her little “Pip” when she thinks no one is watching, giving her small kisses and telling her how much she loves her. I was terrified of having a second baby. It has been a wonder to me that Pippa seemed just what we needed; not a hassle, but a blessing. She makes us all better just by being alive.

 

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