Musing on Birth Plans

The following views are expressed on the American maternity system, which is the only one I have personal experience with.

Birth Plans get better known each year, by both moms-to-be and care providers. Pregnant mamas view them as a way to express their desires for the minutiae of birth (getting all those questions we're bombarded with when we're there out of the way early) and care providers see them in a mixed light.

A midwife typically sees them as either quite welcome (as she wants to make her client's birth as easy and comfortable as possible, so knowing what she wants is essential) or unnecessary in a different way than the OB does. Midwives offer natural care in general, so they figure if you're going to choose one, that is the sort of birth you'll want. They tend to ask about vaccination, birth tests, eye goop, etc. beforehand.

OBs tend to see them as either unnecessary (because they have no intention of following them) or dangerous (as this is a woman who is not going to submit to every procedure s/he suggests unquestioningly) because few mothers desiring a medicalized birth submit one. Also, OBs are not involved in birth the way that midwives are, so most of the information is useless to them. A midwife sits through the birth and needs to know that her client wants to be checked only rarely or wants to use a certain type of natural pain relief. In a hospital, the nurses deal with all of this information. Things like pitocin, etc. are like asking a baker not to use a certain spice that they typically overuse. They've learned to work that way and they don't want to deviate.

I had the standard form Birth Plans (my second was never submitted, but to take the 'you can't plan a birth' argument away, I had renamed it "Birth Preferences") for my first two births. In my first, it was partly respected. They did not reduce the number of vaginal checks at all and I was told I could not refuse, that I had no right of consent. So, against my will, basically anyone who walked in the room was allowed to stick their hand inside me (or that's how it felt). I ended up with a cesarean that had none of the elements I had requested (other than photos being taken and my arms were free because I made it clear there would be a fight even if my body was like a dead fish if they tried to strap me down) in my birth plan.

It was so defeating, I never submitted to my second OB (though he was nothing like my first). My VBAC was nothing like I had hoped, other than the end (the baby care was quite well done) in that she came out vaginally and I got to catch her (I had to negotiate for this while pushing). It would have been thrown out due to unforeseen complications, so it wasn't a big deal.

With my third baby, I was seeing a midwife and one day, the subject of birth plans came up. I asked her if she wanted me to give her one, though I wasn't sure what I would put in it since her standard birth policies were all in line with my wishes. She said that she liked birth plans and then, remembering that I fancy myself a writer, she asked for me to deviate from the standard form. She wanted me to write my birth story in advance. My ideal birth story. I joked that there would be little story to that, since I'd just wake up pushing and pop the baby out in bed. We laughed, talking about precipitous birth and I agreed to write one based on my personal birth history. So what followed was a realistic, but desirable birth for me and I'm going to finally share it here.

Beautiful henna art by my friend Nikol on my 9 month belly

My Realistic Ideal Birth Plan for my Third Baby

On October twenty-second, I wake up around 10am, unable to ignore the contraction urging me to adjust myself in bed. I roll onto all fours to stretch out my stiff back and breathe through the pressure, trying to ignore it. When it passes, I check the time and groan. I'm still tired, but 10 is a good time to get up. I roll over and snuggle Naomi and kiss her cheek, then reach over and rub Lilly's fuzzy head.

Naomi peeks open her eyes and grins at me, whispering, "Time to get up! It's morning." I smile at her and nod. She rolls over and snuggles up onto my shoulder, grinning and sighing happily. I'm about to tell Lilly that it's time to wake up when I feel the beginning of tightening and close my eyes, feeling myself breathe in and out as it comes. Naomi is saying happy little things and snuggling me, but I don't really notice much. I'm too busy cursing prodromal labor.

It passes and I tell Lilly it's time to wake up, squishing Naomi a little as I reach past her. She giggles and clings to my arm. Lilly groans at me and I rub her head again. She grabs my hand and opens her eyes to grin at me. I smile at her and she asks Naomi to move so she can cuddle me. Naomi stands up and dances in place while Lilly scoots over and tucks up against me.

After we cuddle, I turn on the television and sit up as another contraction comes. Grumpily, I look at the clock to see they've been coming every three minutes, as I suspected. When it's over, I get up to pee and go out to the computer to complain about how my body likes its little games and catch up with friends on facebook. A few contractions later and I don't want to be at the computer anymore, so I go over and lie on the couch and turn on the living room television.

I turn on the XBox and go to Netflix to see what looks good. I pick a romantic comedy or something equally mindless and absently write down my contractions as they happen. Lilly interrupts me a few minutes into the movie asking for breakfast and I know I don't feel up to cooking with how I'm contracting, so I tell her to go make some cereal and find out if her sister wants some, too.

Realizing that I should probably eat, too, just in case this isn't a fake-out, I follow her into the kitchen and en up having to lean on the counter through a contraction, glad that we have a bigger kitchen than we had in the old house. Our old one made me claustrophobic (no small feat for someone who likes safe little enclosed spaces). When it's over, I poke through the freezer and realize that I want a burger, but we don't have one, so I settle for a turkey and cheddar bratwurst, hoping I won't regret it.

Naomi informs me loudly that she wants a sausage, too, so I grab one for her and toss it on the plate to heat them up while getting out the bread and ketchup. I sway through yet another contraction and then make us our breakfast. I grab my water cup from the fridge, glad that Lilly put it in there the night before. I had been too grumpy from a few hours of contractions to want to do my night time ritual.

I go back out and eat my breakfast and enjoy my movie. The kids don't pester me after I tell them that I need to relax and watch a movie, so no, they can't take over the XBox today. When the movie is over, I get up and restlessly walk around, wondering when it's going to die down and give me a break. I roll over the yoga ball and bounce on that for a while while getting back on the computer.

I post on [my parenting forum] about what's going on in the pregnant chatting thread and make another whiny status update on facebook. I read the replies to my last one and smile at the people sending me labor vibes and laugh at the ones who wonder why I'm not rushing to the hospital over a few contractions. I growl at my mom's usual well-meaning "Is there anything I can do?" I know she just enjoys being a part of my life, but it still irritates me.

I realize I'm getting irritable with the contractions and they're starting to hurt more, so I call a friend to come over and hang out and let our kids play. I text Brandon to let him know how long I've been contracting and how often. He texts back asking if he needs to come home and I text back with "Not yet. I'll call when it's time." I add that my friend is coming over and then she knocks on the door. I toss on some clothes as I let her in. We chat and the kids play and I feel better.

When the contractions continue to build, she smiles at me knowingly and doesn't say anything about it. After a while, she casually asks me how long it's been going on and I realize it's been five hours. She gives me that look that people get when you tell them you've been contracting for five hours and I roll my eyes. "Oh, I've had prodromal labor longer than this," I assure her. "I had it for seven hours the day before Naomi was born. Five hours wasn't too unusual with Lilly. For. Four. Freaking. Weeks."

She tells me that she hopes that I don't have to do this for the next four weeks and I readily agree. Things are starting to get really intense and I tell her that I think I want to take a bath to help and we say good-bye while I go in to draw a bath, hoping it will stop things if it's not real and give me that blessed water relief if it is.

Before I get in, I take a few belly pictures and the kids join in, so I have some cute ones. Then I tell them they can have the XBox while Mommy takes a bath, grab my phone and set it in reach, but far enough away to stay dry, on a little folding stool and refill my water cup before getting into the warm water.

The next contraction is much more manageable and I relax and just enjoy the waves rippling out from my belly as they happen. I can breathe and think again and know that I can do this, be it real or practice, and it will be fine. I just let my mind drift and roll around in the water like a great whale trying to stay comfortable in the too-shallow-for-a-person-my-size tub.

I fold my arms against the side and lie my head in my hands while the contractions continue without slowing down. I have to pee and carefully crawl out of the tub over to the toilet. While I'm peeing, I feel a pop and gush. I freeze. I know what I just felt. Nervously, I wipe and check the paper--it's clear. No meconium!

I stand up and water gushes down my leg, so I climb back into the water and wash my leg off, then stick a towel between them while I go to grab a pair of poise underwear to catch the gushes. I debate what to do while checking the clock. It's 5:30pm and I know I won't be done before Brandon gets off work, but I am still tempted to call him.

I call Brandon and tell him that my water broke and that I'm sure he can finish his shift if he wants, but it's up to him. He decides he'll come home and we say "I love you" and hang up. I call Tara and let her know that it's baby day, then I call Rachel to let her know, too. I assure her that it's still too early to go in, but that my water is broken, so it's going to be soon regardless.

I go out to the living room and pace about for a while, grabbing things to sway through contractions. I'm hungry and still want that burger, so I call Brandon quickly and ask him to grab me one on the way home. No, I don't want fries, just the burger. McDonald's, of course. It's got to be that terrible-for-you-greasy-goodness. Yes, a double, I agree as I pull on a tank top and a skirt.

I turn on Deftones and start dancing around to 'Digital Bath.' Since it's just me and the kids, I am utterly unrestricted and I sing loudly and emotionally with what I've always considered a song about birth, from making the water warm to the cord breaking away. I want things I can dance to, sing to, be loud to, so I cue my sansa playlist and tell Lilly to unlock the door for Tara. I belt out with Seether and Three Day's Grace and grumble about never getting around to making my birth mix, but I don't really care as long as I can sing.

I'm not sure when Tara got there, I'm so lost in the music, but when I look over at the chair, she's sitting there, smiling and Brandon's on the couch. They wave at me and I say hi, feeling a little self-conscious, since I always hide when I sing and dance anymore. They tell me not to let them bother me, but I want to eat the food that's smelling up the room and had permeated my music fugue state.

I ask Tara if she wants anything, but she's already had dinner and Brandon goes to feed the kids, who are delighted to see him home early. Lilly tells him that I'm having a baby, which is what I told her for why I was wearing a "diaper" when Naomi demanded that I explain. Naomi asks me where the baby is and I remind her that the baby hasn't come out yet.

I'm not comfortable sitting on the couch, so I stretch out on it instead and put on Food Network as something easy to watch and either talk through or zone out to. I end up adjusting with every contraction until I end up with my labor ball on the floor. Tara sits near me and is just a comforting presence, since there's not a lot to do except keep me company at this stage. When some of the contractions get more intense, she applies counter pressure and I feel better.

I get to the point where I need to start visualizing to get away from the soreness building from all this work and when the next contraction comes, I'm in mind, floating above an ocean that is the pain and discomfort. I leave the water and float above it. Some pain breaks through and it's a wave lashing against my ankle, but I just breathe and it falls away, not hard to leave behind in the surging ocean.

This has always been my meditation technique for escaping negative feelings and pain in particular. It's effective and has very nerdy roots, which are comforting to me. I'm so worn out and want to take a nap, so I move to the bedroom to try to do just that. Tara brings a chair in and the door to the hall is left open to provide her some light to read or knit or however she usually passes the time in a birth while mama naps.

I lie there in the quiet dark, unable to sleep, as usual, but slowly drift between contractions for a while. When I open my eyes, the kids are sleeping next to me and so is Brandon. Everything is dark and the contraction that woke me up is so intense that I was vocalizing before I even woke up. I need to pee and I roll out of bed, grabbing another pair of poise panties to change into on the way to the toilet.

Sitting on the toilet is very uncomfortable and I find myself whining through it until I'm done, wipe and crawl onto the floor to get away from it. I rock on my hands and knees and moan loudly. The contraction passes and I go to the kids' room, where Tara is sleeping on the spare bed and let her know that I need her.

She stays a calm, comforting presence and helps me get back from the intensity of what labor is becoming. She rubs my back and encourages me while I moan and breathe and occasionally curse my contractions. She asks if I think I need to go in, because it's clear that things are picking up strongly. I ask her what time it is and she tells me that it's 2am. I tell her that I want to let everyone sleep a while longer. She asks me if I want to listen to music again. That sounds good and I tell her so, so we go back out and I cue up my playlist again.

I get up and dance the baby down a bit, feeling intense pressure against my cervix and some rolling around that I interpret as the baby getting into position. My singing woke up Brandon and he comes out to make sure everything's okay. Tara assures him that it is and he sits down and reads on his Nook while I dance and sing.

By 4, I know it's time to go in. I'm having visions of the lovely, big, blue birthing pool at the birth center and I call Rachel, hating to wake her up, but knowing that she was probably expecting it anyway. Brandon gets the kids and puts them in the van while I eat some soup and post on facebook and twitter before we go. Tara grabs the infant bucket for me and my bag and we go out to our vans. She tosses my stuff in ours and follows after us to the birth center.

The drive in the night is intense for me, but I relish the dark, peaceful streets. I love being on a drive at night, even though I'm moaning and whining as quietly as I can through the strong surges pushing the baby further into this world and getting her ready to meet it.

Brandon pulls up to the door without stairs and lets me out while Tara parks. I hobble over to the door and Rachel lets me in. No way I can climb stairs in labor. I have never been a fan of stairs anyway. I see the tub is filling up and I sigh gratefully. I have to go to the bathroom again, so I do and whine through it again. I put on another clean poise panty and am happy to see my water is still clear, even if it's gushing as usual.

I come out and plug the laptop into the speakers I brought from home to play some music. I don't feel like singing right now, so I put in the classical/instrumental/foreign playlist. Brandon and Tara come in, each carrying a sleeping child and put them on the bed in the other room, where they continue to sleep, uninterrupted.

I end up on the floor, leaning against the bed as the next contraction comes on intensely and I moan, wanting very much to get into the water. Sheena listens to the baby briefly with the doppler while I rest on the floor and checks my blood pressure. Everything's fine, of course.

Before too long, the pool is full and I take off the poise underwear and climb in, feeling instant relief. I float a little bit and then roll over to just relax in the water with my cheek lying on the edge of the pool and my arms draped over it. Brandon takes some pictures and then sits by the pool, holding my hand.

I'm able to just meditate through the contractions now, lost in the instrumental music. They're coming fast and strong, but not painful, between the music, water and how relaxed I am. I drink ice water and just feel my baby and body working to bring her into the world.

After an hour or so, I need to pee, so I get out and walk around a little, then I want to nap again, so I change into something dry and lay down in the bed and rest while the contractions take a break for a while. When I wake up, the sun is filtering through the window and the contractions are back, having only let up to let me get the sleep I needed to be ready for the last part of labor and birth.

I have someone turn the music back on and relax to Origa's 'Kawa yo, Watashi no Kawa yo.' Then 'Fukai Mori' comes on and I sing with the Japanese that I know. I cue up 'Ningyo Hime' by Rie Tanaka and then I want Yoko Kanno, so on goes Origa's 'Inner Universe' and then 'Rise' as I get more into singing.

I want back in the water, so I go back in the pool and have the music go back to stuff in English so I can sing more mindlessly. Back to Deftones and 'Digital Bath' again and so forth. The kids wake up and come in to see why they woke up in the birth center. They want to listen to my heart, etc. and then go get some toys to play with while things really pick up for me.

I'm using the singing in place of moaning, so my voice is strained through contractions, but it feels good to get through them that way. But it's getting harder and harder and I am uncomfortable, moving into moaning instead, moving around and trying to get comfortable. Things are getting intense and I'm getting negative, but Tara and Rachel assure me that I'm doing well, it's okay, I can do it, because I am doing it.

I realize I must be in transition and I try to concentrate on breathing and relaxing, but it's hard and I turn the music to something darker that has me use my diaphragm more. Still, during contractions, which are coming fast and furious now, I have trouble keeping it up. I throw up water and feel better, then the urge to push comes over me.

I tell everyone what I'm feeling and Rachel tells me to go ahead if I feel like it, so I do. I get up on my knees and hold onto the side of the tub, one leg up and press my belly against the wall of the pool from the top and let my body do what it wants. Brandon takes pictures and goes around behind me to see if he can see anything and Tara changes the music back to something brighter, turning it down to just be background sound. Brandon tells the girls that the baby's coming and they can come in, but need to be quiet. They come in and watch.

I push and it feels good to work with my body. My abdomen feels better, but I feel increasing pressure in the birth canal and each contraction, I'm able to press lower on my belly. I switch legs and there's a burning feeling, so I reach down and feel the baby's head crowning. Brandon has switched to video and I gush happily and say silly things that I know I'll mute out of the video later.

I push for a little while longer and baby's head comes out. I rest between contractions as Rachel watches and checks, making certain everything looks good. Another contraction comes and I push with it and feel the baby's shoulders slip out, then she's pouring into my hands and I guide her out a bit and move so that I can sit back and pull her up to my chest.

Someone hands me a towel and I wrap the back of her in it and turn her over to look into her face and see her wrinkly, beautiful little self look up at me, a little cheesy with vernix that I wipe off her face a little. I'm laughing and the girls are cheering and wanting to touch the baby. Brandon hands Tara the camera so he can touch his new baby and she switches it to still images and takes pictures.

The cord stops pulsing and Rachel clamps it and asks Lilly if she wants to cut it as I stroke it in amazement, as I love how umbilical cords feel and it shows how we've been connected these last several months. Lilly does and cuts her sister free and beams in delight. Naomi coos over the baby, saying "She's so cute!" over and over. 

I hand her to Brandon and move out of the tub onto the bed, changing into a dry shirt and getting under the blanket as I don't like being wet on land and he hands her back to me. I offer her the breast and she latches on, watching my face as she nurses for the first time on instinct. She pauses and her eyes widen as the colostrum obliges her efforts and she continues to nurse with that new baby amazement over everything.

I push out the placenta and Rachel shows me the mother side and the baby side and explains what I'm looking at, pointing out anything interesting about it and then off it goes. Since I am in a rental property, I can't plant a tree with it and I'm not interested in placentophagy, so it can be disposed of however. Tara gets pictures for me while it's explained, since Brandon doesn't even want to see it. He's not a fan of blood or organs, while I'm fascinated by them.

Baby and I cuddle, nurse and rest while Rachel checks to make sure I haven't torn (which I haven't, just a few skid marks, as I'm not very stretchy, but the water helped prevent tearing like I'd hoped it would) and I still stick an ice pack down there to feel better. I hand baby off to be weighed and measured as someone tells me what time she was born and I relax and watch everyone while Brandon resumes taking pictures of everything for me.

The girls climb up on the bed and hold their baby sister carefully. When it's time to hand her back, Brandon gives them the 'congratulations, big sister' presents from their sister to them that we had prepared ahead of time. Everyone gets a chance to hold the baby and coo as I make phone calls and take a cell phone picture to post on Facebook. I post the baby's stats and name (assuming we've come to an agreement by now) and that we're doing well.

Someone brings me the sandwich I've been waiting 9 flipping months for--turkey with miracle whip and I eat it while looking down at my beautiful little girl and Brandon goes and feeds the kids the breakfast they're whining for. Whenever she feels it's time, Tara goes back home to her family while we rest and recuperate with my new family of five.

And here is my actual birth story to compare: http://musing-mommy.blogspot.com/2011/11/katarinas-birth-story.html

This post was written for inclusion in the Preparation for Birth series at A Little Bit of All of It

Katarina's Birth Story

"Every pregnancy is different." We remind each other of this fact often, but despite that, still look for patterns in our own to make them more predictable. It's hard waiting and not knowing. This pregnancy reminded me of that very strongly. My body followed its pattern of earlier symphysis pubis dysfunction and earlier prodromal labor--but not earlier labor itself. The baby inside me settled differently, responded to stimuli differently and, in general, was as unpredictable as could be.

I assumed on the 'safe' side, that I would have a day-long labor as I've had in the past. Well, right from the start, my actual labor started differently--it started at night. Around 9:20 pm or so. I just figured it was more false labor, but the contractions were intense enough that after a few hours of it, I texted Tara, my doula and turned on my contraction timer and recorded that they were averaging approximately a minute every 3 minutes.



I danced around to music and sang a little bit. My contractions were only really bearable when I was standing or dancing, so it seemed like the best thing to do. I couldn't get baby to drop and my labor pains moved around into my back a bit and down my legs--things I'd heard about, but never experienced myself before. I figured the dancing was still helpful anyway.

I posted on Facebook a few times, to keep everyone in the loop as promised, then decided I had to have a shower around midnight. I got into the shower and sat down, letting the water fill the tub and rain down warm on me. The contractions broke a little, but did not become less intense. I still felt better for having it. I put on a Poise panty just in case, so I could just go to bed and not worry about making a mess with my water.

I tried to get some sleep, as I'd advised Tara. I had a strong feeling that I was definitely in labor. I'd been tricked once before, so I still questioned it repeatedly, but I wanted to be rested as much as possible regardless. I was very glad I'd made the kids let me take a nap earlier. Off and on, I used the hypnobirthing/hypnobabies wrist drop while breathing through contractions and while I wasn't able to do anything involving the 'hypno' part, it still helped, surprisingly.

I woke up to contractions off and on and started chanting positive messages: "I'm fine." "It's the baby; I'm going to have a baby." "I can do this." "I've done this before." At first, they were just in my head, but I started having to breathe them out as it got harder to tolerate them while being so tired. Eventually, they became verbal and I decided I was too loud and gave up on sleeping, trying to let my family get as much as they could.

Every time I went to the bathroom, it was terribly painful from the pressure of the baby and I finally couldn't take doing it all on my own anymore, so a little after 6am, I called Tara and told her that I needed her. I had tried to make it at least until 7, but I wanted her there as soon as possible and I knew she would take about an hour to get everything ready to go. My bloody show was becoming more and more red and it seemed a good sign that things were progressing.

I called and left a message at the birth center that we were having a baby today, but didn't want to call and wake up Rachel herself when I was so sure I still had half a day left or so.

Tara came and we talked for a little bit, then I dozed on the couch off and on between contractions while she stayed next to me, dozing on the labor ball that I just could not stand to use more than to squish baby down a bit. She helped me get through more intense contractions and I returned to chanting my positive messages when I wanted to scream.

A few times, I did howl and yell, but I tried to turn it into singing, goofy sounds or more positive words when I could. My family woke up and Brandon made the kids breakfast. I was torn between starving and so nauseated I didn't want to eat. Tara had retrieved a bucket, just in case, but thankfully, I never used it. The birth center returned my call to see what was going on, but I wasn't able to talk, so I gave the phone to Tara.

Transition hit hard and fast around 10:45 or so. The birth center called back again and talked to Tara to assess where I was in labor. Tara confirmed that I was definitely in labor and that things were going quickly. Neither of us had really recognized transition yet, but my contractions had doubled and I wasn't tolerating them much anymore. I kept trying to chant my positive phrases, but I was shouting them and crying.

I was afraid of how intense it was getting, flashing back to Naomi's labor. Nausea had taken any desire to eat away and I wanted the birth pool, which I cried into Tara's shoulder as I held onto her and we swayed through a contraction. She called and told Rachel to fill it, who said she wanted to wait and check me first (which I figured, since I'd always had slower labors).

I lost all my positive and started crying that I couldn't do it, things were too hard, it was killing me, etc. and Tara just stayed positive, just as I'd asked and told me I was just in transition and it was almost over. She and Brandon got the girls ready and all the stuff out to the van while she continued to support me every couple minutes in between. Everything seemed to be flying, suddenly.

Then as we were walking me out, I grabbed Tara, falling into a contraction (to which, I had begun pleading and occasionally screaming in shock) and told her I was feeling pushy. It was a strange, half-feeling, but I knew it very well and instead of the joy with which I announced it with Naomi, it was a half-panic. She asked if she should call Rachel to come and do it here, but I was determined to get to the big, blue pool and was sure I could make it the barely 10 minute drive.

Before I could put on my seatbelt, another contraction left me screaming and arching and my water broke. I yelled at Brandon to buckle me in and hurry and that my water had broken. I started apologizing before contractions, because I knew I couldn't not scream through them. But more, 3 minutes into the drive, I was pushing and couldn't stop.

Brandon sped, worrying about being pulled over, but worrying more about not making it to the Birth Center. He kept telling me that he didn't know why I was apologizing, that I was okay. I just kept doing it--it had become a mantra. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I was writhing in the seat, trying to get away from the intense pressure on my perineum. I knew it was the baby's head and I didn't want to sit on her.

We pulled up to the ramp and Brandon ran out and banged on the door to get the midwife while I unlocked the doors as Tara ran up and unbuckled. I arched away from the seat, screaming that I was crowning, the baby was here, I was going to sit on her! When Rachel opened the door (Tara meant to call her to let her know we were on the way, but things had just moved so fast right before we left, we forgot plenty in the whirlwind), she heard and saw me and ran out, Sheena following behind.

Then she told me what I knew and didn't want to hear--I needed to get out of the van and into the Birth Center. I howled that I couldn't and she argued with me. The second there was a lull, I was being pulled out of the van and supported to the ramp. Due to my weight, I'm always nervous about people supporting me, so I was terrified that I couldn't do it. I made it almost up the ramp and then collapsed onto my hands and knees as another contraction caused my body to push and push hard!

I continued to argue with them that I couldn't get to the door as I tried to do what I knew had to be done. Just a few more feet, but my contrary birthing brain kept arguing grumpily at them (which was how I was able to keep going--that fighting urge).

"It's too cold to have the baby out here!" I heard Rachel say and I forced my hands and legs to crawl me in the door. I chewed Rachel out for not filling the pool for me and yelled that I wanted it. They started filling it while Rachel apologized, pointing out that none of us expected me to be going so fast! Later, when I had access to logic again, I'd know that there was no chance I would ever have got in the water anyway--I couldn't stand up to get in! I could barely move my legs and my uterus had a mind of its own.

I was pestered toward the bed, but I finally called it and just worried about crawling out of my pants and Poise panty (which had contained my entire water mess, hooray!), then lifted up one leg and reached down as I screamed while my body pushed again and I felt something soft and strange, but hard at the same time, coming out of my body.



I wondered if I was feeling buttocks instead of a head and asked what was coming out of me. There was a questioning, "Maybe your bag of waters?" as people shuffled to see, but I just kept wanting to know what I was feeling. Then the rest came out and I realized it was my baby's head just as someone told me that was what it was!

I couldn't see Brandon and I yelled for him and a camera. I had kept meaning to ask for pictures during labor, but it wasn't to be, things just went far faster than I expected. Instead, it was going the way we had hoped (only a little faster at the end than I meant!). Brandon appeared and pictures were taken, though it was Tara taking them.



Graphic pics:
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/014.jpg
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/017.jpg
http://i182.photobucket.com/albums/x110/Xakana/Katarina%20Birth/018.jpg


The kids were playing in the lobby/living area of the Birth Center and totally missed the actual birth because I screamed one more time and my baby girl flew out of me. I looked down in shock and couldn't actually comprehend that I was looking at my baby. I was very confused. A closed-eyed baby was in my hand, very still. Someone mentioned that the cord needed to be moved off her neck and it was. I heard someone say it was 11:42 when Rachel asked for the time.

After a moment, I realized that she wasn't moving as they rubbed at her and brought over the oxygen. I rubbed with them and started down, still in shock, responding mechanically. I said, "I had a baby!" in surprise as I finally absorbed that it was my baby in my hand, not breathing. Then she gave some coughs and started writhing as I yanked off my shirt and pulled her to my body, still attached to me. I looked at her ginger hair and grey eyes and noted what a round little chubber she was.



My body contracted again and I felt something coming out. I reached down and birthed my placenta, setting it on the floor. It was still partly inside, so Rachel was looking at it and waiting for it to finish. She said to give a little cough and it would finish coming, but I told her I couldn't do anything right at that moment. My body was tired and barely listening to me, though that was too much to convey.

I felt okay after a moment and gave a little push and the rest came out. I realized I'd had a lotus birth in the back of my mind, but now I was too interested in the baby I was holding. I also noted that my placenta looked to be much smaller than Naomi's.



I mentioned that Lilly should be called in to cut the cord and the girls were brought into the room to see their new sister. Lilly asked a ton of questions as Sheena opened the clamps and scissors kit and we answered her. Lilly cut the cord, though it took her a few tries to get all the way through. I examined it in fascination both before and during the whole process.




The baby had covered one of the towels in meconium shortly after being born but was mostly clean all over from all the rubbing to get her breathing. I was helped to get into the bed and snuggle with my naked baby. She and I just stared at each other for a while. I was super weak from the intensity of everything that had just happened and she was so chill that I didn't offer to nurse her. We just looked at each other, both of us surprised. She was so quiet and calm and we realized her purple complexion on one side was due to a bruise when looking for birth marks (she had none).



Her head was perfectly round, which made sense since she went from feeling high in my belly to shooting through my pelvis in only 11 minutes. Only four minutes passed from us arriving to her coming into the world outside of me. It was an hour before the shock wore off and she and I tried to nurse. I finally got her latched on (her rooting instinct hadn't kicked in) and her eyes went wide and she drank enthusiastically, looking more surprised every time she sucked and got milk.



Time flew by after that and I was only half-aware of what was going on. When Tara was ready to leave, I asked that she stay and Brandon go to Subway to get me my celebratory turkey sandwich that I had so been looking forward to. So she did and took pictures during the newborn exam. Naomi got to trim the cord down and I finally got to find out how much the baby weighed--8lbs, 13 oz and she was 20" long.








I fuzzily did the math at just under 14 1/2 hours from beginning to end.




Brandon and I talked about names (he still had my list on his phone and when he brought up one of my favorites from the old list and paired it with my favorite from my new list as a middle name, I liked the combination) and texted Tara as soon as we'd decided, then I called my mom while Brandon posted on Facebook that we had chosen--without revealing the name.

He told his sisters, parents and one friend who texted with a good story as to why she deserved to know (and hadn't been a pest about it, so he was happy to tell her anyway). He had been pestered severely by coworkers for weeks for a name (that he wouldn't have told them had we known) so he took delight in keeping it to ourselves for most of the day.

I ended up with two stitches, before which, I got up to pee and Katarina Xylia cried for the very first time as she woke up without me. Immediately, Mommy instinct hit and I called out for someone to pick up the baby, but she wasn't totally content until she was given to her daddy (since I couldn't hold her right then). She knew him right away and settled back down.

I ate and was encouraged to nap some more after a failed attempt to go shower. I didn't make it to the shower (nearly fainted) and instead, the pool was filled back up for me to take a bath. It was heaven and I brought Katarina in and we bathed together. The moment she hit the water, she relaxed and slept against me, so content. It felt so wonderful.



I was encouraged to stay a bit longer and nap some more since I was barely able to walk. It took me longer than average to recover, since things had gone so fast after so little sleep and I wasn't feeling my body's cues, so I didn't know when I was hungry and thirsty. Once I was hydrated, fed again (pizza) and napped, I was able to get dressed and walk out, feeling much better. We went home around 7pm and my sister met us at home to make sure that there were two adults to help me into the house in case I nearly fainted again, but I did fine.

My fastest labor, my heaviest baby who was the calmest, most alert newborn baby I've ever seen. My first totally natural birth--it was intense, but amazing and everything went the way I'd wanted (except for the land birth, but that's what I get for hoping for a fast birth!). I'm feeling good and I have a little baby who likes to talk already (and two proud big sisters and a sleepy, proud Daddy holding Katarina as I typed this out).