We chose to have our baby boy at home. I know that option is not optimal or even possible for many births, but we felt that it was the best option for us. I wanted to avoid the increased risk of C-section that comes with epidurals and pitocin, and hospitals make me anxious and uptight, especially since the death of my mom. I wanted the most peaceful, comforting environment possible for such an intimate event. (Our home can be peaceful when Lily is not around.) We did lots of research on the safety of home births, and found a midwife who has delivered well over 1000 babies. She was wonderful to work with and gave us a very comprehensive level of prenatal care, with 45-minute visits at each appointment.
A good friend of mine, Joelle, introduced me to the HypnoBabies childbirth course, which I started using to prepare in January. It required a huge amount of time - often over an hour per day - and kept us up late many nights. I practiced relaxation, visualized the ideal birth, read birthing information, did prenatal exercises, practiced relaxation cues and scripts with Adam, did perineal massage, and learned self-hypnosis diligently for three months. I learned that the reason Lily's birth was so difficult was because she was facing posterior, and my contractions were pushing her into my back instead of my cervix. I also learned that this can be avoided by posture and prenatal exercises, which I did religiously.
Everything was going great until a week before my due date, when he somehow turned posterior in spite of all my efforts to prevent it. I was frustrated, afraid, and even angry. After several days, I went to the chiropractor and then we did several belly lifting exercises that are supposed to help. Thankfully, he wiggled right around. And the next morning at 3 am, my contractions started, about 10 minutes apart. I was actually excited!
I stayed in bed listening to relaxation recordings on my iPod until 7:00, when everyone got up. Then my contractions became closer together and more regular. Adam's mom was with us, so she got Lily ready to go to a friend's house. Unlike with Lily's labor, when my back was in so much pain between contractions, I felt great between each one. I ate breakfast, read a story to Lily, and talked with everyone, pausing to completely relax during each contraction. By the time they left to go at 9:30, my contractions were strong enough that I had some anxiety about Adam leaving (he had to take them to the car rental place). But I got totally relaxed on my birthing ball, listening to my iPod, and I hardly noticed he was gone.
After he got back, he was able to give me a priesthood blessing. Then I took a shower. My contractions were getting fairly strong now, but Adam just supported me every time I had one, and we talked cheerfully and I washed my hair in between. I even blow-dried it afterwards. It felt so natural and normal, except with the addition of increasingly more intense contractions every few minutes.
My midwife, Lisa, and her assistant Ellie showed up around 12:30. I relaxed on the birthing ball again, propped up against the bed with pillows. It was so comfortable, even though the contractions were strong enough that I couldn't talk during them. I stayed completely focused on being relaxed, no matter how intense they got, and kept saying "relax" and "open" to myself. Amazingly, with a number of the contractions, I could actually feel my cervix opening.
Shortly after they arrived, some blood appeared and they told me it was a sign of later dilation. I was surprised, but decided not to get my hopes up. During Lily's birth, everything took so much longer than I expected, and I felt extremely disappointed when I had been labor for 12 hours and was still only dilated to a 6. This time, I was determined to simply let things happen as they happened without focusing on the timeline.
On my way back from using the bathroom, I had a contraction that stopped me in the hall. As I knelt there with Adam supporting me, I started to feel emotional and began to cry. But strangely and amazingly, I was not crying from emotional exhaustion, discouragement, or pain like I remember doing during Lily's birth. If anything, it felt like I was crying because I was happy! It even brings me to tears now, to think about all of us kneeling together on the floor of our little hallway, with me asking my midwife why I was crying, and feeling so much joy and happiness that it made me laugh through my tears. She was smiling and telling me how great I was doing, and again said this emotional stage is a sign of later dilation and transition.
I decided to get in the bathtub, and then things got very intense. It was extremely difficult to keep my whole body relaxed now, but I focused with all my concentration on keeping all my birthing muscles relaxed. Adam was using all the tools we practiced to help me stay focused, and it felt like a complete team effort. I could not have done it without him. I felt powerful instead of helpless like I had during Lily's birth. Instead of this happening to me, I was doing it. I was in control and we were in it together. When Adam said "relax", I relaxed automatically. With Lily, I remember that when Adam told me to relax, I felt indignant and almost angry, since of course he had no idea what I was going through, and "how dare he tell me to relax?" When he said I was doing great, I told him he was lying, and when he said I was getting closer, I said "how do you know?" and started crying. But this time, all those things same encouraging words made me feel stronger. We were in it together, we were in control, and we were rocking this birth!
When I stood up to get out of the tub, I felt a sharp pop like a balloon bursting, and they told me my water had broken. Ellie informed me that the contractions would probably be somewhat stronger from now on, and I got a little worried. I felt like they were as strong as I could handle, and I thought if they get any stronger, I don't know how long I can do this. But the next one felt different, and STRONG, and I knew something was changing. Adam helped me to the bedroom, and then suddenly with the next one I had to push and it was unbelievably intense! With three pushes and in only 6 minutes (and a few very unearthly sounds coming from me!), our baby was born at 1:58 pm.
With a huge smile as they handed him to me, I said, "I did it!" and I felt like I had conquered the world. We did it! Then Joshua was in my arms, purple and crying and perfect. Adam cut the umbilical cord and we climbed into our own bed, and I nursed Joshua for a long time with a feeling of complete exhilaration. I was so happy! Everything I had visualized had happened exactly as I pictured, down to the time of day and the number of hours I was in labor. I didn't tear at all, and didn't have any of the extra bleeding or other problems I had after Lily's birth. The experience was not easy or pain-free, but it was amazing! I felt like I had accomplished a major physical feat, such as climbing a mountain or running a marathon. It was such as contrast to my previous experience, when I just felt beat up. This time, I had met the challenge, and came out on top!
As I have reflected on this experience, I feel like this is what birth is meant to be: a challenging, difficult, but wonderful experience. I don't think God meant it to be terrifying or horrible, but at the same time, it should be a sacrifice to do something as significant as bringing a new life into the world. Everything worthwhile in life takes effort and hard work - education, marriage, parenting, living the gospel, earning a living, learning to play an instrument. But the effort can be so meaningful and even rewarding. I learned that birth can be beautiful, meaningful, and rewarding as well.
Lily adores Joshua.
Welcome to the world baby Joshua! We are so exited to have you!
I know that not everyone can have an experience like this, although I wish they could. I can sympathize with women who have had long, very difficult and painful birthing experiences. But I hope that we can start sharing the wonderful side of birth as well so our daughters don't have to grow up mortally afraid of what they will inevitably have to endure someday. I hope my daughter can look forward to having children as a challenging, but empowering right of passage. I am so grateful for the healing and joy we were able to find through this experience, and I want to pass that on to her.

