Luke's beginning

I'm so excited to share my friend Carrie's story. Luke's birth story, coupled with a family member's abruption around the same time, had a huge impact on the way I thought about birth.

The nurses called him lucky. One of the doctors said he was a miracle. We know that God was watching over us as Lucas came into the world. Here's the story of his rough start, but, all in all, a wonderful beginning.

My first pregnancy and delivery was pretty typical except for a few brief moments when my little girl’s heartbeat dipped during delivery. Otherwise, it left me completely at ease for the second time around, which came 18 months later —  to the day. I never had any problems during my pregnancy with my son besides the typical swelling of the feet and ankles and horrible heartburn.

So, when the big day arrived, all I had was excitement to go along with those fun contractions. I had been having contractions all morning, but didn't think much of it since this had been happening for the past several weeks. While my husband kept telling me to rest, I kept on doing what I needed to accomplish for the day. On my way back from a little errand, I began to realize that the contractions were getting pretty strong and started timing. When I arrived home, I surprised everyone by saying that we might be going to the hospital. I labored at home for a couple hours, timing contractions, double checking my bag, and wishing that my water would break so that I would know that it was really going to happen. Thankfully, it didn't.

Once we arrived at the hospital, the nurses took 20 minutes to come check on me. I must have been holding it together pretty well while getting checked in. They had no idea that Luke was just about ready to get the show on the road. I shocked them when they discovered I was dilated to 7 centimeters, and they quickly got me moved to a delivery room.

From there things really slowed down. Three hours later we were still waiting for my water to break so that dilation would happen faster. The nurses double-checked that I didn't want the doctor to break my water, and I figured that since we weren't in a hurry, we might as well let things happen naturally. Thankfully, this was exactly what needed to happen, because once my water did break things started to go wrong — really wrong.

As soon as I hit 10 centimeters, my water broke, which caused him to drop, and since the cord was wrapped around his neck, it must have caused so much tension that the cord ruptured and the placenta tore away. Without the placenta remaining intact, blood wasn't circulating into his body. But no one knew any of this just yet. The nurse was calling code blue and searching for my little guy’s heartbeat. From the silence on the monitor, I knew she couldn't find one. I held my husband’s hand tightly and searched his eyes for reassurance. He said that it was okay, but I knew he didn't believe it. The room quickly filled with nurses and doctors. Half of them surrounded me as they asked questions of each other. Then they all said, "Push!" And, quite easily, as a matter of fact, he was here!

I heard him cry and expected them to hand him to me, but instead he was passed to the team of NICU doctors and nurses that had rushed in 6 minutes ago. I tried to catch a glimpse of him, but couldn't see much. They said they'd have to take him to the NICU to look him over and that I could see him for just a moment. I'll never forget looking down on his little head covered with a striped, cotton hat and seeing his deep blue eyes looking directly back at me. I murmured a few sentences to him and then they took him away.

My husband asked to go with him, and though I needed him beside me at that time, I knew our son needed his daddy more. Thankfully, our family was there awaiting the birth of the new family member, and they kept me company until I was finally able to see my son. As the nurses finished their post-delivery duties, they repeatedly filled me in on what happened. They said that I did great. That getting him out in 6 minutes saved his life. A few minutes more and he wouldn't have made it. I was numb to everything they were saying and could only think about when I would get to hold my baby.

Two hours had passed before I was able to be wheeled up to the NICU. A doctor came by immediately to fill me in on how he was doing. I did my best to make it look like I was listening, but I just stared at my little baby and wondered if this was really happening. We weren't able to hold him, just touch him through the little doors of the isolette. He was given the last available bed in the whole facility. They were getting ready to give him a blood transfusion and hoping that his blood pressure would rise.

We hardly slept that night and were back up in the NICU early that morning to see how he was doing. The nurses were so kind, were eager to answer our questions and offer any support that they could. It was hard to hear them say how lucky they thought him to be. The transfusion went well and we were able to hold him for a little while. Twelve hours after he was born! It felt so good; like a whole in my heart had just been filled. His blood pressure was still a concern, and they continued to run tests to determine why. Later that day we found out that his platelet levels were terribly low and that he would need to be given more. He was put on five days of antibiotics in case there was an infection causing this, which meant that hopes of him coming home with us were looking pretty slim.

By day two, his blood pressure was looking much better, but he still needed to be given plasma and another blood transfusion. They would run tests that night to see if that corrected everything. Fortunately, the doctor had determined that he was healthy enough to eat. FINALLY! Poor little guy had been going to town on his pacifier, and he was hungry. Family brought our daughter to visit us at the hospital, and that really helped keep our spirits up. We stayed as long as we could, but that night I was discharged and we had to go home empty-handed. I'll never forget the emptiness I felt as I climbed into bed that night. He had been with me every night for the past 9 months, but tonight we were apart.

The following morning, we learned that his platelet levels were still low, but hadn't fallen. He was eating really well and the doctor was finally convinced that I could give him everything he needed. We had an awesome nurse that pushed for keeping him strictly on breast milk. By day four, we learned that he was creating platelets on his own, which meant that there wasn't an infection and the low levels were simply due to his rough start. It also meant that he could be taken off the antibiotics. Things were looking up and we had settled into a little routine.

On day five, we received the wonderful news that he could go home the next day. We wore permanent smiles for at least the next 24 hours. It was over. All the worrying, wondering, and fear were behind us and all that was left to do was thank God, pack up our things, and head home. While we had to wait a few days extra, we still got to experience the happy homecoming we were expecting; a memory that will stay with me always. We are so thankful that we had such wonderful nurses and doctors to take care of Lucas and that we had so much support from family and friends, but most of all, we are thankful that today he is thriving and healthy.

Quinn's beautiful hospital birth

I'm so happy that my friend Regina chose to share her story here! She sent it to me after we were talking about how we both felt misled by "The Business of Being Born":

Before jumping into my second child’s hospital birth story, let me give you some background. Our first child was born at home with a certified professional midwife who, although she was highly recommended, ended up being a big bully and pushed many “natural” interventions on me by playing on my fear of the hospital. I am thankful that my daughter and I are safe despite the midwife’s mismanagement of my labor. That experience with the midwife led me to search out why my experience was so different from others who have homebirths, but then I learned that it wasn’t so different and I realized that there are birth bullies everywhere.

Fast forward to when I became pregnant with my second child. I was so sick at the thought of calling our former midwife for my files that I made my husband do it. I couldn’t bring myself to even talk to her on the phone. We talked to many people during our search for an OB/GYN (which began before we got pregnant, but continued for 12 weeks into it). We finally settled on a doctor who was highly recommended by friends, strangers (on the internet), homebirthers, and hospital birthers. She was from Ghana and didn’t bat an eye when she heard our first birth had been at home, instead she asked why we were choosing to use the hospital this time. She made no judgement of anyone after my story was shared, simply said, “Well, we’re going to make this birth a good one.”

On to the birth story! My labor began early one morning. We were using Hypnobabies for our “birthing method” so I chose to remain still and utterly relaxed in the quiet house. For 5 hours I labored this way, enjoying the quiet, and believing that I was still in the very early stages of labor since my contractions were no worse that strong menstrual cramps. When I finally started timing the contractions, I was surprised to see how regular they were: lasting 1 minute and coming every 5 minutes.

I finally forced myself to get up and start collecting things for our hospital bags and our 2.5-year-old girl’s bag. Within minutes of getting up, the contractions severely intensified and I started feeling sick. My husband woke up in the midst of this and I informed him of what was going on. The lucky man was only aware of my labor for the last quarter of it. ;) Somewhere in the midst of packing, contractions, dealing with my fear of labor, getting our girl up, fed, and off with the child care I lost my center and couldn’t regain full control of myself. There was no where to retreat to hide; I had to keep going forward and I didn’t want to.

After what seemed like an eternity, we finally arrived at the hospital. I had been laboring for 6.5 hours at this point. As the nurses cheerfully checked me in, they tried to comfort me. When I expressed my desire to be left alone, they quieted down and stopped touching me except for necessary things (which is exactly waht I wanted--I can’t stand being touched while in labor). One of those necessary things was an IV for antibiotics since I was GBS+. It took several tries to get the IV in because I was mildly dehydrated from not drinking much over night and because I kept moving during contractions. I was never scolded, but eventually the nurses figured out a way to help me hold still long enough to get the tricky IV in.

Once most of the business was taken care of (I later learned they totally ditched the intake interview and paperwork), they finally checked my dilation. At that point, I learned that--yay!--I was almost 8cm dilated but, sadly, that meant that there wasn’t time to set up the birthing tub. I had been looking forward to a water birth. Guess we should have gotten to the hospital sooner, but I thought I still had hours and hours to go.

As soon as they were done with those checks, I was off that hospital bed as quickly as I could move. They brought me a birthing ball that I draped myself over and rocked and moaned. At some point, they fastened the baby heart monitor onto me and that thing proved to be a pain. The baby did not like staying on the monitor and that made the nurses (and therefore, me) nervous. If there were one thing I could change about the whole birth, it would be the monitor alarm. I understand they need to know the baby’s doing OK (they were just trying to get the baseline at this point so they could switch to intermittent monitoring) but if only they could have turned off the alarm sound I could have focused so much better. The alarm kept going off and it would startle me out of any focus I had been able to find.

Otherwise, the nurses were great. They brought me hot rice packs, took the clock off the wall so that I couldn’t see it, rearranged the room so that I could labor on the floor, and were otherwise very helpful and sweet. Sometime in all this, my OB arrived and sat quietly in a corner doing paperwork and observing. About 40 minutes after arriving at the hospital, I started feeling the urge to push. My OB commented on it and had the birthing stool brought in but didn’t do anything else except encourage me until my water broke.

My water broke with a very loud snap. As the nurses cleaned it up, they realized I was bleeding with it. I was bleeding steadily, though not heavily. They moved me up to the bed to get a better look and after a pushing contraction, they guessed that I must have torn inside the birth canal though they couldn’t tell for sure at that point (this did turn out to be true, thankfully). At this point, the OB requested that I remain on the bed so she could keep a closer eye on the bleeding and asked me to push as hard as I could with each contraction--I believe her words were, “Time to get this baby out!” They allowed me to get comfortable and change positions for pushing, they just wanted me to stay up on the bed for now. Somewhere in a lull between contractions, one of the nurses joked to me that she was sad I was up on the bed now, she had been looking forward to seeing the OB get down on the floor to catch the baby. This lightened the mood, which was helpful.

Within 10 minutes the baby was crowning, and the OB asked if I wanted to catch the baby (I had expressed this desire in my birth plan), I didn’t care at that point and just wailed, “I don’t care; I just want the baby out!” Our baby boy’s head was born with the next contraction and the OB said very calmly, “The umbilical cord is around his neck twice. Not tight but not loose. Don’t push just yet, Regina.” As soon as the cord was unlooped, his body was born and he was handed directly to me.

I was surprised when our son didn’t cry right away. He waved his arms around a bit and kind of mouthed at the air. It seemed strange to me, so I started rubbing him. The nurses started rubbing him as well almost as soon as I had started, so I assume that was the right thing to do. He started crying within a few seconds and everyone left us him alone again.

I kept him on my chest for almost an hour before anyone asked to examine him. Because I was GBS+ and had delivered only an hour after getting the IV started, he needed separate antibiotics and some blood drawn for culturing (I know some people call this ridiculous, but I didn’t want to mess around with GBS). I hated to do it, but they promised to hurry. He was away from me for about 5 minutes and was in my husband’s arms or the bassinet (hospital liability rules) for the whole trip. After he was returned, he was weighed and measured in our room, the hospital bed was exchanged for a queen-sized murphy bed, the much-delayed intake interview was finally conducted (which the nurse giggled through because the questions were ridiculous post-birth), and then we were left alone.

About 5 hours after the baby had been born, I finally called a nurse and asked her when they would wash him (I wanted to feel my baby’s soft hair--it was still matted with blood and mucus or vernix). The nurse said they’d do it in a while. So, 8 hours after birth, he finally had his first bath with both my husband and me in attendance. That night, I snuggled in bed with our finally-clean baby and no one batted an eye when I kept him there with me rather than putting him in the bassinet.

Overall, this was a nice experience. Sure, I don’t like giving birth, but I don’t think it could have gone much better with all the small things that went wrong. This hospital was just a small hospital in a small town but they did a great job taking care of me and my baby. It was like staying at a nice hotel. Oh! And the food? It was delicious! The meals were good-sized and the kitchen delivered extra snacks to the new mothers throughout the day. It was great! I was ready to go home after our 48-hour stay, but it was a nice, restful time there and I would be glad to deliver there again.

Eris' hospital birth

Alex shares her story (and a darling video!) from her daughter Eris' birth:


I had the textbook-perfect pregnancy, from the winter solstice to the autumnal equinox, despite having polycystic kidney disease. I was extremely physically active throughout, including taking a Dancing For Birth prenatal class. Since I was Group-B Strep positive, I was instructed by my Family Physician to call as soon as my water broke, which it did with an audible popping sound at 1:40am in the morning on my due date. After calling my doctor to describe the orange fluid leak, I woke my husband at about three in the morning to head to Swedish First Hill hospital in Seattle, Washington state, USA. After we checked into triage, more amniotic fluid gushed out in their bathroom, causing me to be responsible for closure of their bathroom for bio-hazard clean up for the rest of the night. 




I napped between mild contractions until 7:33am in the morning, when I was checked and my cervix was found to be 3-4 centimeters dilated and 70% effaced already, qualifying me for a Birth Suite! At this point, the nurses asked me to rate my pain on a scale from one to ten, where ten was the worst pain I'd ever experienced. I was sorta sore from the internal exam, so I said three or four. They said, "So, five or six?" My husband and I laughed. My doctor told me to walk around for two hours, which I did, and by the time I was checked again in the Birth Suite at 11:10am in the morning, I was 4 centimeters dilated and 100% effaced with the baby at 0 station. They asked me about my pain again, and I was doing fine as long as I wasn't laying around, so they just intermittently monitored my daughter's hear rate with a hand-held monitor. 

I danced during contractions, later retreating to rocking in a rocking chair between them. The port on my hand for my occasional IV antibiotics was not restrictive in the least.  My doula arrived on the scene and pampered me with back-rubs and cups of tea for the rest of my labour. As the endorphins kicked in, the world seemed surreal, and reality melted away, but not in a bad way; more like in a "Yellow Submarine" sort of way! By 2:09pm in the afternoon, I was 6 centimeters dilated after sitting in the rocking chair listening to movies, and my doctor recommended the jacuzzi tub, which slowed contractions but made them far more productive! At 3:29pm in the afternoon, my uterus simply started pushing on its own. My doula whispered softly that she was going to tell my doctor I was having the "urge to push" and that I would then be surrounded by a lot of people and noise and to just stay inside myself. I was surprised to be found to be 10 centimeters dilated, since I was expecting the feeling of "giving up" or wanting pain medications that was described during transition in all the books I'd read. Those thoughts had never crossed my mind, and I remained relaxed and in great spirits.

They put up a support bar over the bed so that I could squat and push. My doctor donned booties and joked that she always regretted it when she didn't. Foreshadowing of the splashy event about to take place! At a potty break to reduce the physical barrier of my full bladder, my external intermittent fetal monitoring briefly registered a heart deceleration, which frightened me, but switching to a hands-and-knees position solved it. The two and a half hours of pushing really didn't hurt until the last minute, and felt good, albeit tiring! Strangely, I did decide to yell during this stage, despite the great reduction in pain, sort of like a war-cry! My husband dozed in spite of it all.


In between contractions, I shouted for somebody to order me some oatmeal, which I ate after the birth. At 6:32pm, all 6 pounds and 13 ounces of her shot out like a baby horse! She was 19.5 inches long. My first words to her were, "Hi. I built you. I guess that makes me your mom." Then, my husband said something like, "I think we'll keep her" and I looked up at him with tears in my eyes and said, "I'm so relieved that I love her!" 


Unfortunately, she had swallowed a bit of meconium, and I had significant tearing that needed some stitches, but we recovered quickly and we still got out of there after our standard 24-hour watch period. My daughter also punched a nurse right in the face during her first bath!

My hospital experience was terrific, and I look forward to another great hospital birth of my son, Orion, coming this May!  It is funny because during the last labour's potty break described above, my doctor told me, "We should do this again sometime!"  Sure enough, we will! 

Lisa's baby stories

Birth story one

It was January 26th, and I was 9 days past due. My OB had scheduled an induction to be started the following morning, so in addition to being tired of the pregnancy, I was worried about being induced. I very much wanted to have a natural birth, and was afraid I wouldn’t be able to accomplish this if I had the induction. For a week I’d been trying everything I could think of to bring on labor, except eating spicy foods since I have a huge aversion to them. It was four in the afternoon, and my husband was heading out to his evening classes. We had just tried one of the more…intimate ways of bringing on labor, and I was having some mild contractions, but I figured they wouldn’t last since I'd been having them on and off for a week, and they always went away after an hour or less. So off to class my dear hubby went, and I promised to call if things picked up and became regular.

When around 5:30 the contractions had not yet gone away, and seemed to be fairly regular, I started timing them. They were 10 minutes apart and lasted about 20 seconds or so. Nothing to get excited over, but excited I got since this was the most that had happened in weeks. I had a snack and watched some TV trying to distract myself so I wouldn’t get my hopes up to high if this didn’t turn into real labor. I timed them again at 7, and they were 7 minutes apart, lasting 35-40 seconds. Now I did get excited. But I didn’t want to call my husband yet, just in case. Besides, they weren’t close enough to go to the hospital. I double checked that my bag had everything I wanted/needed in it. I spent about an hour fiddling with baby clothes and planning what I would put my baby in for his first pictures. At 8:30 I timed my contractions again, and they were 5-6 minutes apart lasting a solid 40-45 seconds. So I called my husband. He got home about 9 pm, and was raring to go to the hospital. We timed my contractions again, and they were still about the same as before, so I said we’d wait. He spent the next hour and a half timing my contractions, and asking me if I was ready to go yet. He was so anxious. At 10:30 they were a little less than 5 minutes apart, still lasting about 40 seconds. Off to the hospital we went.

The hospital wasn’t far, and there was no traffic since it was late at night. But in the span of that short car trip my contractions actually slowed down. When we checked in they were back to being almost 7 minutes apart, lasting only 30 seconds or so. Luckily, I was dilated 4 centimeters, 100% effaced, so they let me stay. I would’ve been really bummed if they had sent me home, which I was afraid they would do considering how much my contractions had weakened. It was a little after 11:00, and I’d now been in early labor for about seven hours.

The hospital was great about my desire to maintain mobility during labor. They put in a Hep-lock so I wouldn’t have to be attached to an IV, and they put it about midway up my forearm so that it wouldn’t interfere with my ability to use my wrist or elbow joints. They told me that since I was still fairly early in labor, they would wait until I thought things were really picking up before they did another cervical check, and attached the monitors. After that, they wanted to attach monitors once every hour or so for about 15 minutes, so that I wouldn’t have to be continuously monitored. I spent most of the next couple hours walking back and forth in my room.

Sometime after one in the morning, maybe closer to two, I got really nauseous very suddenly, and threw up everywhere. I was also beginning to feel pretty miserable in general, and decided I was going to lie down. They hooked up the monitors, and checked my dilation. I was 7 centimeters, and I think they said contractions were about 3 minutes apart, lasting for about a minute. After monitoring the baby and I for a little bit, they removed the monitors so I could move about as I liked, but I did not want to get up again. At this point, I remember there was a wonderful nurse who would sit with me for a while and help me through contractions. She didn’t stay in the room all the time, but when she came in she would stay for several contractions, and talk me through them. My husband spent most of the remainder of the labor alternating between pacing, and asking me if he could do anything for me. I remember he also had a wet washcloth that he would hold to the back of my neck or wipe my face with when I asked. I remember being really hot, and not wanting the sheets on my bed anymore. At some point, they had hooked me up to continuous monitoring. They gave me an oxygen mask, which I didn’t want to use. I think they gave it to me because of the baby’s heart rate, but I’m not sure. I also remember that the thing they put on my finger to monitor my pulse was for some reason seriously getting on my nerves. At some point, after asking the nurses several times if I could take it off, I just removed it myself and told them I wasn’t wearing it anymore. They didn't make a big deal out of it. The nurse just put up her hands in a sort of placating way and said, "OK, sweetie, that's fine." I think that was around the time I was dilated 8-9 centimeters. Somewhere in all of this they broke my water, since it hadn’t yet broken on its own.

I spent a lot of time thrashing about in the bed trying to find a comfortable position, and I didn’t want to get up. I was crying because it hurt so much, but I dozed in between some of the contractions, that’s how tired I was. Finally, I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore, and asked for pain medication. I had been at 9 centimeters the last 3 times they checked, and I was frustrated and tired. They called the anesthesiologist, and then that wonderful nurse came back in. She told me I needed to get up from the bed and go pee, which I didn’t want to do, but between her and my husband they got me to do. Then she had me stay standing leaning against my husband while she changed the pads that were on the bed. Finally, when I got back in the bed, she said, “Let me just check you one last time, dear, before the anesthesiologist gets here.” Lo and behold, I was at 10cm. I think I laughed I was so happy. She cancelled the anesthesiologist, and a few minutes later, I felt like pushing.

They say I only pushed for 20 minutes before my baby was born. I remember that during the pushing stage, the contractions didn’t hurt. My husband helped support me sitting up in the bed, and he rubbed my shoulders in between contractions. I vaguely remember the “ring of fire”, but it didn’t last long, nor did it hurt nearly as badly as I’d been told it would. I remember the awe in my husband’s voice when he said, “I can see his head.” What I remember most is the doctor telling me to reach down and grab my baby, as he guided my hands under my son's arms, and allowed me to pull him the rest of the way out and onto my chest with the final push. I remember my son’s eyes locking with mine as I greeted him, and those few seconds of silence and recognition before he resumed his cries.

My beautiful boy was born January 27th, 2010, at 6:37am, 8 pounds, 1 ounce.

Birth story two

So I was 10 days past due, again, and still no baby. I went to bed cranky and uncomfortable. With my first, I went into labor at 9 days past due, and he was born at 10 days past due. I’d been having pro-dromal labor on and off for days, but so far no real labor. At my appointment four days prior, I was 4 centimeters dilated and had really expected to be in labor by now. After all, second babies are supposed to come sooner, right? Not.

I woke up at 2:30 a.m. needing to use the restroom. When I got up from the toilet, I felt my water break. Yay! I was having contractions, but they didn’t feel any different from the false-start contractions I’d been having, so I waited. They started becoming regular around 3:30 or so. This is when I woke my husband up. We took our time getting ready. I made sure I had everything ready to go for my toddler when he woke up so it would be easy for my dad to take care of him. We were about to head out at 4 a.m. when my boy woke up crying. I laid back down in bed with him to try to get him to go back to sleep. It difficult at that point to lie next to him through a contraction without him knowing something was different. But I did it, since I didn’t want to scare him.

At 4:45 we finally headed to the hospital. By now my contractions were 3 minutes apart, and really hurting. The hospital is typically a 45-minute drive over the mountain, but there was no traffic, and hubby sped a little. We arrived just after 5 and were checked in to L&D at 5:20 a.m. They hooked me up to the monitors for 20 minutes, put in a Hep Lock. Hubby fetched me some ice water to sip on in between contractions. They checked me, and I was 6 centimeters. After 20 minutes, they took me off the monitors and told me I could walk around if I wanted. I had originally planned on laboring in the tub for a while, but at this point it just seemed like too much trouble. I didn’t even want to get out of the bed really. I don’t know how far apart the contractions were or how long they were lasting at this point. I was no longer paying attention to the clock.

I got out of the bed anyway since usually that helps speed things along. Hubby was basically holding me up during contractions. At some point, the midwife (CNM) arrived. She suggested squatting during contractions, but I couldn’t. It hurt too much, and my legs were shaking just trying to stay standing. Shortly after this, I wanted to get back in the bed. Hubby says it was just after 6 at this point. I was feeling a lot of pressure, so the midwife checked me and said I was at 9 centimenters. I started crying. I was upset because I’d gotten stuck at 9 centimeters for almost an hour last time, and I was immediately anticipating the same thing happening this time. Hubby was holding me, and telling me, “It’s ok, you’re doing great, that’s 3 centimeters in an hour, etc.” The next contraction came, and I told the midwife I had to push. She asked me to try not to, but I couldn’t help it, so she checked me again. She said I had just a little lip of a cervix left, but that I could go ahead and push past it.

I only pushed for about 10 minutes total. I started out pushing on my side, but then things got scary. First of all, this was completely different from my first in that the pushing stage hurt, a lot. With my first I stopped really feeling the contractions while I was pushing. This time was the opposite. The contractions hurt worse. I heard the midwife say, “He’s stuck, go get the on-call doc, now.” A nurse ran out of the room, and I think a couple more came in. Apparently we had a shoulder dystocia. They had me turn on my back. One nurse was doing compressions on my abdomen just above my pubic bone, kinda like CPR. That hurt like hell. It hurt more than the contractions and pushing. Another nurse was helping my hubby push my legs back during contractions. Whatever they did worked. He wasn’t stuck for long. I was told less than a minute.

As soon as he came out they rushed him over to the little warming table and gave him some oxygen. Apparently oxygen deprivation can be an issue with a dystocia. So I wasn’t able to hold him immediately like I was with my first. But everything was fine. He didn’t suffer any complications. Once they were sure he was ok, they handed him to me so I could hold and nurse him. They had to cut the cord quickly to get him to the table with the oxygen, but they still handed my husband the scissors to cut it down further once it was clamped. I thought that was nice. Everyone left the room for a while to give my family some privacy. We spent over an hour bonding before they took him to weigh him and clean him up.

And so, my second son was born at 6:29am Sept. 20, 2011, 9 pounds, 4 ounces, after just over an hour in the hospital.

Baby Liam's med-free hospital birth

Johanna shares her story of a medication-free birth in the hospital with a Certified Nurse Midwife (visit Midwife{ology} for an explanation of the difference between CNMs and Certified Professional Midwives, or CPMs):

Shortly after I woke up on Tuesday, November 24, four days past my “due date” (HA!), I lost my mucous plug. I hadn’t had any other signs of impending labor and had pretty much resigned myself to being pregnant well past Thanksgiving. When I told Evan about this new development, his eyes lit up and he said, “I think today’s the day!” I told him not to get too excited because I wasn’t having any contractions.

I dropped Evan off at work and once I got home, I started having irregular contractions. I didn’t think too much about them because there was no pattern and they weren’t too painful. I went about my normal day, except that I spent a lot of time moving back and forth between sitting on my yoga ball and tailor sitting on the floor. The contractions go a bit more serious, but I was convinced this was not the real thing yet, so I tried to keep myself distracted. I finished knitting a blanket for my sister’s baby and picked up around the house, breathing deeply through each contraction. I called my mom to see if there was anything she needed me to pick up at the grocery store for Thanksgiving dinner and I let her know that I might be in early labor, so I asked her to not tell anyone and to say a prayer for a safe and easy labor.

I went to the grocery store, and I had to stop periodically and lean against the cart to breathe through a contraction, but I was still not convinced that I was in labor. I picked up what my mom needed and got some frozen pizzas for our dog sitter “just in case” she needed to come that night.

I had a midwife appointment that afternoon, so I headed there a little hopeful, but still skeptical that I was actually in labor. I told Judith (the midwife I met with) that I had lost my mucous plug and I had been having contractions all day, but they still weren’t too strong or regular. She said that it might be early labor, but it might stop still, which was common among first pregnancies. She offered to check my dilation, but I declined because I was afraid it would either crush me if I wasn’t dilated, or possibly make me overly excited if I was. I asked who the midwives on call were for that night and the next, in case I ended up going to the hospital.

On the drive home, I was hit with a contraction that made me get serious –- I had to grip the steering wheel and breathe very slowly and deeply. A few minutes later, I was hit with another one. When I got home I checked the clock, and it was exactly 10 minutes from when I had left the midwives' office. I called Evan and told him he’d need to find a ride home because I wouldn’t be able to make the drive to pick him up with the contractions as strong as they were. Evan got very excited and said he’d finish up and get a ride. I paced and bounced on the yoga ball as I waited for him to come home.

Evan blew through the door, super excited and ready to go. I was still willing to believe that it wasn’t the real thing (talk about denial), so I suggested we order dinner and then see how I felt. We had a big pasta dinner, and I drank a small glass of wine, but the contractions kept coming. I went upstairs to take a bath to see if that would slow things down. As I was about to climb in the tub, I noticed a trickle of pink-tinged fluid. I called the midwife on call, Melissa, and she said that it sounded like a rupture in my membranes, and that I should take my bath and call her if my contractions got to be one minute long and three minutes apart. As soon as I climbed in the tub, my contractions became much stronger. I kept an eye on the clock and noted that they were roughly three minutes apart. I got out and got dressed, and brought my hospital bag downstairs.

I let Evan know how the contractions were going and he got even MORE excited! We started Contraction Master on the laptop, and while he gathered up what we needed, I paced around the living room, stopping and kneeling against the back of the couch when a contraction came. Evan called Melissa back and she told us to come in to the hospital. We called our dog sitter and our parents to let them know we were on our way to the hospital.

The car ride was rough, but not as bad as I thought it might be. Thankfully, I had Contraction Master to distract me. As a contraction would start, I’d hit the “S” key and say to Evan, “Here comes another one,” and breathe or moan through it. We arrived at the hospital, and the nurses at the emergency room sent us up to OB triage right away. When we arrived at triage, Melissa greeted us and a nurse hooked me up to the EFM to get an initial reading on my contractions and Liam’s heartbeat. Melissa told us that she had to go deliver another baby, but that once the 10 minutes for the strip were up, the nurse would be able to let me walk the halls until Melissa could examine me.

Those 10 minutes were really hard -– we propped up the back of the gurney I was sitting on so I could lean over it during contractions. At this point, I had to moan to get through them. I was drinking a lot of water and beginning to feel nauseous. Finally, I was released from the EFM and Evan and I walked the halls of the birth center, stopping for every contraction so I could kneel and rest against the railings on the wall. We walked for about a half hour before I wanted to rest in triage again.

Quickly after that, Melissa came in and examined me –- I was 6 centimeters dilated, and she was admitting me. She also noticed meconium in my waters, so she said that their protocol required continuous EFM at this point. Evan and I talked it over and decided to agree if we were able to get a telemetry unit so I could still use the tub and move freely. No problem –- she got one for us right away!

As soon as we got into our room, I stripped my clothes off and put on a hospital gown (I knew I’d be more relaxed if I wasn’t concerned about messing up my own clothes). I was hooked up to the telemetry unit. I labored draped over the back of the bed as the admitting nurse asked me a bunch of questions. I remember thinking, “How long is this going to go on? Can’t she see I’m in labor?” As soon as she was done, our nurse Sara came in and asked if I wanted to use the tub. YES! I ripped off the gown and got in the tub. Such a relief!

I don’t remember much about the order of events after that. I know at some point, Sara and Melissa brought Christmas lights into the bathroom and my room so we could turn off the overhead lights, and someone got out my necklace from my Blessingway. Evan stayed right by my side, holding my hand, pouring water over my belly, and encouraging me every step of the way. Sara was in and out, bringing juice for me and Diet Cokes for Evan. Sara was an amazing nurse, more like a doula actually, and she supported both of us beautifully. I know I was in and out of the tub. I labored on a yoga ball, leaning over the back of the bed, and on the toilet. Melissa was in and out of the room, encouraging us.

Somewhere around 2 a.m., I started to feel pushy. Sara called Melissa in and she checked me –- 9 centimeters! She said I could start doing little “grunt pushes” if that made me more comfortable. It did! Soon after, the pushing contractions got more intense. I started pushing in every position I could think of -– on all fours, on the yoga ball, standing and squatting, and on a birthing stool. I was having trouble getting the pushing “right” -– that is, doing it in a way that helped Liam descend.

I felt like I was in and out of awareness, but I kept hearing encouraging voices around me. Evan reassuring me that I was making progress and that I was doing a great job. Melissa and the nurses commenting to each other how “beautifully” I was laboring and how well I was listening to my body. As I progressed, my vocalizations became louder and more primal. I started making noises that I didn’t know I was capable of.

I was exhausted from pushing, and from being awake for nearly 24 hours. Finally, Melissa suggested that I try pushing in the side-lying position to see if that would help me conserve my energy. I agreed to try it (I would have tried anything at that point).

Melissa had me hold my left leg up, while I had a death grip on Evan in with my right hand. Melissa checked me and told me that the baby had started to descend, and with a few good pushes he would be born. But, I was still having trouble making my pushes “good.” I felt stuck and exhausted. I started saying over and over, “I’m so tired.” Evan kept encouraging me and everyone was telling me I was almost there. We started talking to the baby -– Evan saying, “Come on Liam, help your mom out, she’s working so hard.” I started chanting, “Come on, baby!”

I felt him move down ever so slightly and slowly. I felt my body begin to stretch and Melissa told me to rest for a moment and reach down to touch my baby. I felt the top of his head and his hair, which I was told by the adoring nurses, was curly. Melissa supported my perineum and told me to push on the next contraction. I pushed and pushed with each contraction, and his head slowly emerged -– first a forehead, then eyes, then a nose, and then his whole head. It hurt so much and I had to focus every fiber of my being on pushing beyond the pain and with all my strength.

At this point, Evan was super excited, telling me he could see the head. Melissa told me to open my eyes and look at my baby. I remember shouting, “I CAN’T! I’M PUSHING!!”

So we kept pushing, and with one incredible push and a sound that seemed to at the same time come from deep inside me and from somewhere beyond myself, it was over. I opened my eyes when I heard a squawk and there he was – Liam, all pink and covered in vernix and meconium.

Melissa suctioned his nose and throat and placed him on my chest. At some point, the NICU team had assembled in my room –- another standard procedure when meconium is present. As soon as Liam was checked out by Melissa, they cleared out immediately.

I was totally in awe of him. I remember repeating over and over, “I can’t believe we did it. I can’t believe you’re here.” Liam nestled right up in between my breasts and gazed up at Evan and I, and he stayed there for his first hour. He never left our room the whole time we were in the hospital. His Apgars were 8/9. Evan gave him his first bath in the room and spent lots of time with Liam skin-to-skin on his chest.

I am so grateful that I was able to give birth without augmentation or pain medication. Evan was the perfect coach and we had a great team at the hospital. Giving birth to Liam was one of the most powerful experiences of my life, and I am so grateful to have him.

For our inaugural post ...

My daughter Natalie's birth story! She was born on July 7 this year:

On Tuesday night/early Wednesday morning a week before I was due, I woke up around 4 or 5 a.m. with some pretty strong contractions. I couldn't sleep through them, so I got up, had a bite to eat, and used the computer a bit. Eventually, they faded away, so I went back to bed ... though of course my sleep for the night was shot!

Wednesday was a very rough day. I was exhausted from the night before and uncomfortable (I was having Braxton Hicks contractions constantly), the weather was sweltering hot, the boys were driving me up a wall ... it was a long, cruddy day. My husband ended up coming home from work early because I was in such pathetic shape! I was getting pretty desperate to get this kid OUT.

Then, on Thursday, July 7, I woke up a little after 5 a.m. with some pretty strong contractions. I started timing them around 5:30, and after about another half an hour, I decided that this was probably the real thing, and we should get going. (My previous labors were 3 hours and 2 1/2 hours, so I wanted to err on the side of caution!)

We made it to the hospital at about 6:30 or so, and on the way there, contractions were still coming about 2-3 minutes apart, though not terribly painful. Unfortunately, after we checked in, they stopped altogether! This was pretty unusual for me, as my previous births had been so fast. I was at 4 centimeters when I got there, but things didn't progress at all after an hour. After another hour, I was still only 4-5 centimeters.

At that point, the OB on call, Dr. M, said I could either go home if I liked, or they could admit me to labor and delivery, start me on antibiotics (I was GBS-positive yet again -- batting 3 for 3 on that score) and then break my water. While I hadn't had any inductions before and preferred to avoid them, I was frankly getting desperate, and I didn't want to have to go through the whole run-to-the-hospital scenario again (especially as it involved my husband missing work, as well as my mother-in-law, who was watching the boys). I also wanted to make sure I got the full course of antibiotics, as my previous labors had been too short for me to get the full dose.

Once I got to labor and delivery, things started right back up again. The contractions weren't particularly strong or fast, but at least they were there! We had a fantastic nurse who was very low-pressure and encouraging, and since things were moving slowly, for the most part, we were left pretty much to ourselves. I walked around the halls for a bit, I sat on an exercise ball, and our nurse poked her head in now and then to make sure we were doing OK. Dr. M asked at one point if I wanted to have my water broken, but since things had picked up, I said no, that I preferred to wait and see how things went on their own.

When the contractions started to get a bit stronger, I got in the shower, which was heavenly. Eventually, I wasn't sure if I could stand up much longer, so I got out. At 12:30, I was still only dilated to 6 centimeters, though. (I know that sounds silly to be discouraged by that, but at that point, I'd already been in labor twice as long as I had been with either of my first two!)

Immediately after that, things started getting very intense. This time around, I recognized it was transition -- I hadn't been very aware of it during my previous two births. I tried to quell the panicky feeling I was getting and to take slow breaths. I wasn't terribly successful -- I told my husband that I was scared, that I didn't want to do this, that I wanted it to be over ... he was very comforting and reassuring and told me we were almost done. (He knows better than me how my labors go, I think!) I also started thinking, "I wonder if I should have gone for the epidural after all" ... which I recognized as a sign that I was probably getting close to the end.

Things had started really getting in gear: At 12:45, Dr. M told me I was fully dilated and could push whenever I felt like it. I really didn't WANT to -- because pushing is my very very very least favorite part of labor -- but after about five more minutes, I felt that familiar, undeniable urge. I think I pushed maybe four times -- around five minutes total -- and Natalie was born at 12:56 p.m.!

They put her on my chest right away, and the first thing I noticed was that we were both covered with yellowish-green gunk. I immediately asked, "Is that mec?" and the doctor nodded. Natalie had passed some meconium in utero, and apparently not too recently, either -- her fingernails were stained with it. So after a minute, they had my husband cut her umbilical cord and took her to another corner of the room so they could make sure her lungs were clear. (They were, thankfully!)

Because I'd been so much more uncomfortable this time around, I was expecting her to be bigger than the boys, who were 7 pounds 6 ounces and 7 pounds 9 ounces, but our sweet little miss was a mere 7 pounds even and 19 3/4 inches.

We spent a couple of hours cuddling her in L&D -- she was nursing beautifully -- took photos, and made the requisite phone calls. Afterward, we headed to the mother-baby unit and had visits from a couple of friends and, later in the day, from my in-laws and the boys, who were immediately smitten with their baby sister.

While her birth was longer than I anticipated, and more intense, it was fantastic. Everyone we dealt with through our whole stay was great, Natalie is doing wonderfully, and I feel terrific. I truly couldn't have asked for a better experience.

Our sweet angel: