Ten years ago, if you had asked me about the future, there was no way I would have said, “I would love to give birth at home.”
10 years ago, I probably would have scheduled a C-section.
But here I am, a little over 4 months postpartum, in which I had planned to birth a baby in the master bedroom bathtub. This journey to home birth began four years ago with a miscarriage. If you want to read more about that, I wrote more about it here.
This post is raw, messy, and beautiful, with maybe even a little or a lot of TMI. But the story is ours.
When I found out I was pregnant with Piper, home birth was really the only option for me. Rowan was born in a birthing center in Southern California, and we had moved away from the area. There were only two options in Fresno: hospital birth or home birth. For me, the choice was easy; I was having this baby at home.
Flash forward nine months, give or take. Rowan was born three weeks early, so we prepared for early birth. While we knew there was no guarantee of another early Babe, we still needed to be ready just in case.
Honestly, the weeks between 37 and 40 weeks for the longest of my life.
- I had never been pregnant for that long.
- I was in early labor for 3 weeks.
People tell me that my contractions were just Braxton Hicks during that time, but the baby had us all on our toes. For three weeks, I would contract consistently all day long. I was tired, and my body was exhausted. Every five to ten minutes, a contraction would hit. Thankfully, they weren’t too painful.
Sweet baby Piper was sunny side up, and the angle at which she was sitting was making things a little challenging to move forward in a timely fashion.
The morning of my 40-week appointment, the contractions started getting a little rougher, and I probably should have timed them, but I had been timing for 3 weeks, and frankly, I could never get it right. If I had planned for a hospital birth, my chances of getting induced would have been high during this pregnancy. But because this was a home birth, I didn’t watch the clock; I just started breathing more, smiling more, and laughing more. It was probably hilarious to watch while I walked through Target that morning.
When my midwife came over for my 40-week appointment that afternoon, I had been glued to my yoga ball, bouncing and dancing.
The baby was still sunny side up. My midwife and I worked through a few techniques to get the baby to flip that afternoon. Before leaving. My midwife wanted to spend a few moments using the Rebozo technique on my belly to see if that would finally encourage the baby to sit correctly.
With how quickly Rowan’s birth moved, sometimes I feel like I missed out on his whole birthing experience. I was clueless, primarily because of the entire day in general. So, I prayed to experience birth during this pregnancy and looking back, I think I prayed too hard.
It was around 7 pm when I was in the middle of a contraction, running to the bathroom when I felt a pop and water trickle down my leg. I knew it was baby time.
Now for a little TMI. Are you ready? I remember going to the bathroom at around 7:30 pm and feeling a drop. I remember looking at the toilet paper and thinking what is that? So, like any good home birther would do, I texted a picture to my midwife.
She came back with two words: bloody show.
I did my best to time contractions, and even after 3 weeks of timing, I still didn’t know what I was doing. I estimated that the contractions lasted around a minute and about 3 to 5 minutes between. I don’t remember this, but I texted my midwife that I either had to squat or swing back and forth through the contractions.
Somehow, during all my squatting and swinging, I took one last bump shot and cleaned my kitchen.
Brady put Rowan to bed around 8 pm, and by the time Brady walked out of Rowan’s room at 8:30 pm, my contractions were stronger, and the breaks between them were pretty much non-existent. The contractions came like crashing waves over and over. I labored in our bedroom, on the toilet, in the shower, and on the bathroom floor. Let’s just say things got a little blurry and blended together at this point.
People ask me if it hurts, and I’ll say having a baby without drugs is no joke. And because I was more aware of my body’s pain sensations this time, I tried not to think about the pain during each contraction. I knew each contraction would bring Piper closer, so I would rub my belly, coaching both of us through the pain. I said, “come on, baby, you’re doing so well; we can’t wait to meet you.” And even though I felt ridiculous smiling through the pain, having a positive perspective is magical.
Brady played birth photographer and doula at this point. This was our first time experiencing birth together, and he played his role well. The fact that he can love me after seeing me in a diaper because I didn’t wanna get the stuff out all over the bathroom floor is amazing.
Experts say you know labor is almost over when you start thinking, “why in the world am I doing this? This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Why didn’t I choose to have drugs?” I think that went on for like 15 minutes.
At 9:30 pm, we got a text from my midwife that she was 15 minutes away. She had gotten stuck in construction traffic, and the freeway was down to one lane. I finally said that I was ready to be in the tub. With every contraction and urge to push, I prayed the baby would stay put until my midwife arrived, even though I had been mentally preparing myself to have an unassisted birth since I found out I was pregnant.
Right at 9:45 pm, my midwife sprinted through the door and up to our bedroom. As soon as I saw her, I knew the contractions were over; I could breathe and speak clearly. Pushing was coming, but I think God blessed me with a five-ten minute break while my midwife got settled.
I won’t go as far as to say pushing is the easy part because birth is just hard, no matter how you look at it. But I do prefer pushing to contractions because I feel more in control. It’s weird, though, because the pushing part of birth is a blur.
I pushed and rested and pushed some more. I pooped. Aren’t you happy you decided to read this?
When her head popped through, Home by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros played over the Echo Dot in our bathroom. Brady said, “she has hair,” I think I pushed two more times, and she came swimming out into the world.
Piper was here born at 10:14 pm.
The weirdest feeling is when a baby appears in your arms after the final push. I was trying to catch my breath, not drop the baby in the water, and snuggle this sweet new thing.
Piper and I sat in the tub for a while before getting cleaned up and taking measurements.
It was after midnight when the midwife left. Our night ended together, laying in bed, Piper nursing, and Schitt’s Creek playing softly on TV.
Born June 11th, 2018
7 pounds 11oz
19 1/4 inches long
Most, if not all, of the photos taken on the night Piper, was born were taken by Brady. He was a photographer, my support system, and a bit of a birthing assistant that night. He was amazing!