Karen's Story- 9 lbs.- HBAC

9 pounds

19 5/8 inches

HBAC

Prequel
I was mentally unprepared for the birth of Ollie, our first child. I remember thinking in the hospital “They are professionals. I’ll just let them do their jobs.” They did, I was poked, prodded, probed by seven different people to measure my cervix, had my water broken, pumped full of pitocin and finally operated on.

Child #2 Wren was a VBAC. I hired a doula to help me during labor and to make sure the breastfeeding problems didn’t resurface. I was induced once more and received an epidural during transition, which was incredibly painful because I had to sit still for a 1/2 hour in a position that hurt until the meds kicked in. 45 minutes later my daughter was born. I thought, “Man, if I knew that was as long as it was going to take, I wouldn’t have gotten the epidural.

My husband Matt and I decided to have a home birth with our 3rd after finally taking a comprehensive birth class. Now I knew what I didn’t want- IVs, electric monitoring, to be told where or how I could labor. I just didn’t want to be messed with if everything was going ok. My new doctor approved my decision and became a medical backup for my midwife Tracey.

Comfortably Pregnant
Early pregnancy felt different this time. It wasn’t really morning sickness, it was nausea where I probably wasn’t going to puke, just kinda feel like it all day long. I preferred the puking frankly, because then it would be over whereas this was like a bad house guest that never left. Once this cleared, I was comfortably pregnant until the last two hours, when I became intensely pregnant.

The whole period of early labor was pretty ignorable. So I ignored it, shuttling Ollie to and from school, quilting, and watching crappy reality TV. I was so relaxed and unbothered by the days increase in contractions that Matt and I didn’t realize how quickly the baby was coming until almost the end. Perhaps we would’ve had an inkling if I at any point thought to time something.

I mentioned offhandedly key tidbits of information to my doula and then to my midwife that should’ve clued my into the fact that labor was afoot. Around 9pm I said to the doula that the contractions of the day included a lot more sharp spiky cervical ones- at which point she make me call her back up doula and my midwife. Then around midnight I said to my midwife contractions felt like when I had Wren and felt like pooping after every one. She asked if Matt was setting up the birthing pool. I said I had told him to and heard water running upstairs so he should be, and that- by the way- I didn’t know the date. She told me I’d have my baby on February 28th and she’d be there in about an hour. That was when I realized this labor was real and we didn’t really have very long to set up.

I went upstairs as Matt emerged from our bathroom squeaky clean and dripping the hot water for my pool.

It’s not his fault that he didn’t read my mind and instantly turn on Home Birth Mode. I had said set up, not fill up (although the pool was already inflated) and not long beforehand I told him I was still unsure of the time line. In fact, in the past weeks I would tell him about the random contractions I was having with about as much drama and zazz as you would saying the sentence- ‘Hey that cloud looks like mashed potatoes.’ Matt just didn’t want to be stinky with company.

I clarified and said to fill the tub and then put my biggest pots on the stove. Back to Matt, water was not running, he was duct taping the liner down around the pool. Back to the kitchen, added kettle to the hot water party. Back to Matt, bathroom was flooding, leaky hose connection, empty pool. Grabbed stack of towels, threw on the floor. Back to kitchen, checked if lids are tight and burners are indeed on high. Too deep breath and put on the silk labor gown I made because I knew if I don’t put it on now I won’t care about it later. It did its job. I felt pretty and relax. I could change nothing so I tried to stop worrying and just tried to figure out anything else I could do until someone could keep me company. Back to the kitchen for kettle, hose was in, the water was still hottish. Later I tell Matt the big pots could go in and they don’t. I said it again and get an ‘OKAY!’ Once they are emptied they are not immediately refilled and put back on the stove (hose is now cold) as Matt starts to load the dishwasher first.

“Fill the pots!”

“I am!”

Internal Voice “No you’re not you’re loading the dishwasher, you can do that after the pots are on the stove!”

Actual Voice said “Alright!”

My contractions feel best when I’m moved and raised my arms high over my head. Now I wished I had my doula. I had back labor and wanted a professional to rub the small of my back, not my shoulders. I went back to walking like I was in the midst of a stick-up and crapping on the toilet.

I knew I was in transition when my midwife Tracey and apprentice, Sora arrive. Tracey saw two contractions before my water broke like a cannon blast (on the toilet thankfully) and I was pushing with the next one. She told me to walk to the pool, it didn’t matter if it felt like the head is between my legs just keep going. I chucked the robe while waking and was in my filled, perfectly warm pool (thank you Matt) before then next contraction was over. Back up doula Melissa arrives. With the way I progressed and with the fact that this was our 3rd child, Tracey thought the baby would of been out in five minutes, but I had been pushing for an hour. She listened to the heartbeat and gauged its position. The baby was posterior, and that’s what was slowing things down. My eyes had been closed as I concentrated, I was leaning on the wall of the pool, forehead in hands. Matt tried to move me.

”Stop it.”

“Your face is really close to the water.”

“I’m not going to drown.”

I opened my eyes and noticed the teeny tiny pieces of fecal matter floating past my nose and think ‘don’t care, but what is up with all this pooping?’ I mean with Wren’s VBAC I felt like pooping with every contraction, this time I was pooping with every contraction.

I found out later that with a baby coming out posterior not only do you get back labor, but the baby’s head presses on your colon like a snowplow ironing out a tube of toothpaste on its way out. Oh well, that’s why there’s a fishnet on the birthing supply list. They made me change positions and soon I was pushing with a burning sensation. Because my back was to the corner of the room, no one could really see the baby crown, or catch a good picture or shot with the video camera. Future modesty intact and my perineum not, 9 pounds, 19 5/8 inches of baby is out at 2:05am. I just held it; looked as it as I caught my breath. Maybe a minute went by before someone asked me if was a boy or girl. I hadn’t thought to check and hadn’t gotten that far yet mentally. I was still just soaking in that hairy little body in my arms. Checked, “It’s a girl”. Matilda Quinn Lukes.

After Birth and After Thoughts
From the beginning of the pregnancy I kept thing there were two in there. After our only ultrasound showed one I still bought a fourth matching picture frame for school pictures, just in case we somehow missed one.

Along with a marginal cord insertion on the placenta was a small second amniotic sac with a calcified deposit inside. We didn’t dissect it, but it looked like an early lost twin. This is more interesting than heartbreaking to me. Because that only ultrasound came well after I stopped measuring big on belly checks, we never saw two and then only one the next ultrasound. I’m very glad I had no reason to mourn or worry about the other baby during my pregnancy. I had only a thought that wouldn’t go away. I will not be framing a picture.

Tracey had a very complex tear to repair on me. Perhaps if I had peed at some point that day the baby could have turned around and I wouldn’t have needed a catheter later. She spent more time stitching me up than I spent pushing. On follow up visits it’s funny to see someone looking at your business end with such an expression of pride of craftsmanship. I believe she would have framed a picture of that if she could.

This HBAC is right up there with asking my husband to marry me as one of the best decisions of my life. If we followed our original plan of laboring at home for as long as possible then going to the closest hospital to us, labor would have been miserable. Giving birth in a pool works wonders for pain relief. It was not my goal to have a water birth. I just wanted to be able to do what felt best as I went along. As a VBAC in a hospital, I would have been on an electrical monitor which would have removed the chance of using a tub or shower during labor. I cannot imagine laboring posterior on a bed, hooked to machines with nurses and others coming and going. Also my original doctor’s group gave me a due date of February 10th even though I balked at their counting skills and tried to have them change it on my chart. My count of February 14th didn’t even take into consideration that my cycle is longer than 28 days. That pushes probable ovulation and conception back even further. My daughter was covered in vernix on February 28th. She was not overdue and neither my new doctor nor midwife were worried about the length of my pregnancy. Would my original group let me go into spontaneous labor 18 days after their count began? I doubt that. Both previous pregnancies had been induced, so I had no real idea of how long it takes me to make a kid.

I am proud that I didn’t complain during labor (internally maybe as the pool filled) but I was busy at the time and pretty focused on what I was doing. I was able to do that only with the support of those around me.

About a half hour after Matilda was born our 5 year old son woke to pee. After using the bathroom Matt shows him the baby and asks if he wants to kiss her. He says no and goes back to bed. The sun was coming up on Matilda’s birthday before we got to lie down and do the same.

The Baby Formally Known as…
The playgrounds of the country are overrun with Maddies- so the nickname Mattie is out of the question. Initially she was to be Tillie like her great, great aunt Ottilia, but if we call her Tilda she can sign her name ~ and how awesome is that?