Be sure to catch all the pictures at the end. Taken by my lovely sister Katy Estrada.
Thank you, Mom, Mary, and Katy for being present and for all the help.
Thank you, Arthur, for your endless supply of patience.
In my third trimester (around 30 weeks I think) I had preterm labor contractions and went to the hospital and got medication to tell them to knock it off. I ended up being fine and went home. But surely that meant baby would arrive early, right? Baby did not arrive until 12 DAYS after the estimated due date. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me.
We had an ultrasound at 9 days after just to check in and make sure all was well. My mom had been staying with us for about a week at this point to help out and get ready. The evening before my water broke I was stressed and crying about being overdue and my mom and I came up with a To-Do list to get done since we were waiting on baby anyway. One of the items was to have a date with Arthur while Ma watched the two boys.
The next day we had a lunch date, after a nice conversation with each other and OK food at the Olive Garden, I got up to use the restroom before we left and I thought, “Hmm. Am I leaking?” I took a couple of steps and said, “My water may have broken?” I took a couple more steps and quickly realized it did indeed and the leak was picking up speed. I turned around and made eye contact with Arthur and said, “We have to go!” Poor guy wasn’t done eating. But it was very exciting and a relief! We scrambled to call our server over and we still ended up paying. Of all the times you could get away with a dine and dash that was it. Dang it! But our server was helpful and on our way out she brought us some disposable towels. Husband and I were both all smiles and I was giggling with excitement. By the time I was out the door I had soaked pants. I hope we didn’t ruin anyone’s dinner.
Arthur drove us home and I called the midwife and she gave instructions. She told us what to check for to see if the fluid was normal, etc. Then we called my Ma. I think she thought we were joking at first. She then called in my two sisters from New Mexico.
I spent the whole afternoon with no contractions and I was too excited to take a nap or to even fall asleep even though everyone kept telling me to. By this time it was 11 days past the estimated delivery date so I was elated. We called the pool rental lady and she came by and set up the pool. She only filled it partially full since it could be (and was) several hours before I actually needed it. The sisters arrived and I tried to do a couple of Cat/Cow stretches. At my last midwife visit the baby’s position had been posterior (head down but face up) and she recommended doing these stretches to get him into a better position. I did one or two but wasn’t feeling them or I didn’t feel like I needed to.
Why I chose a water birth.
The number one reason was pain management. With the delivery of my first son in the hospital, the hot water jet tub was the only thing that made me feel better and I argued with the nurse to let me get back in. With my second hospital delivery, we arrived just in time so there was no option of sitting in a hot bath for pain management and I thought I could have used some!
The second reason was so I could be in a sitting position without stress on my leg muscles. The last time I was really in shape was 2001 and I don’t imagine I could have lasted an hour squatting…
Throughout most of the 3rd trimester, I had painful pelvic pressure. The sharp pain that stops you in your tracks and makes you say OWCH kind. I did not have that with my first two pregnancies. And that’s not pregnancy amnesia, I just didn’t have that much pelvic pain. The night of delivery the pressure was back and by 12:00 am I gave up on trying to sleep and decided the pain wasn’t going to go away. I got up and walked around by myself and then contractions started. Contractions on top of the sharp pelvic pressure were not fun. I had been visualizing and counting on having a break between contractions. “You can endure anything for a minute” was what I had read and it made sense to me and is what I was really counting on. I wanted to be the women I read about who joked and laughed in-between contractions. I called the midwife to let her know contractions were on and she said to call back when I think I’m ready for her. “Trust your instincts.” was what she told me.
Instincts. That damn word stuck in my head and I had the song lyrics from Peter Gabriel’s In Your Eyes going through my head for most of my labor and it was pissing me off. To try to make the song go away I would go through images in my head of my two older boys dancing by the stereo like they love to do.
While I was sitting on the bed having an earlier contraction the husband was standing in front of me asking what he could do and through gritted teeth, I told him, “FILL THE POOL.” I did not give SPECIFIC instructions on how to fill it up. He started putting warm water instead of straight HOT water. The water that was in there had already cooled off over the past several hours so just adding the warm was not doing much to bring up the overall temperature. I tried not to be a crazy woman in labor but I was getting frustrated. After I realized he was only doing warm water he switched it to hot but the hot water heater eventually ran out.
At some point, Mom and my sisters got up and were helping Arthur heat up water to fill the pool. I wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening outside of my bubble. When they poured new hot water in I would sit up more to try and get the heat on my lower abs and general exit area. My heat therapy wasn’t going as I planned and the pelvic pressure never went away so I was feeling a bit sorry for myself. At some point, the lovely midwife and assistant arrived. I remember her testing the water and saying the temperature was fine. I imagine my face looked somewhat confused and disappointed (maybe a tiny bit annoyed) because it still felt cold and I wanted hot!
I continued to labor in the pool. I think I asked if I should start pushing and was directed to do what I felt like I needed to do. I yelled as I pushed and baby was crowning. It felt better to yell. And then I caught my baby. I delivered baby and pulled baby out of the water onto my chest. I peeked and said, “It’s another boy!” Up until this point it had been a surprise! I caught my baby and I was first to know. That’s pretty cool. Some point in there I said, “I have a brownie!” My dear husband is dark skinned and both my older sons were white like me. So when I saw him I first thought he was going to have a dark skin tone like Arthur. BUT turns out his poor face was bruised from the exodus (sorry kid) and the room was dark. Also, I was tired. Gimme a break. No brownie. He’s the fairest of them all.
I tried to nurse in the pool but the water at that point wasn’t in good condition and it looked like I was bleeding a bit among other unpleasant mess in there that we politely don’t speak of. So I was ushered to the bed. I was looked over and externally I had faired better than I did in the hospital the first two times. I had superficial tearing along my old scar from the first two deliveries. And if I could pause and say I’m positive if I had a sitting position water birth with my oldest I wouldn’t have torn in the first place. (Or have blood vessels burst in my eyes after pushing so hard.) Gravity is a law. I obey the law. (I stole that from John Pinette…) It’s also super helpful to have someone tell you to do what your body needs to do while you’re sitting up and gravity pulling down opposed to someone telling you that you need to push and you are lying down not exactly in harmony with gravity who would help do some of that work.
Where was I? I was on the bed. Baby boy was looked over and was doing great. Arthur got to weigh him and clean him up. They had skin to skin bonding time while I was being examined. Timeline and bits get blurry. The placenta was delivered about an hour later while still in bed. I think the water was too dark or it looked like I was bleeding too much to do it in the pool. I don’t remember why exactly but placenta passed. Over the next couple hours, I kept having gushing feelings when I moved. I wasn’t full-on hemorrhaging but bleeding should have slowed down and wasn’t where it needed to be. I took a few herbal tinctures under the tongue to try and help. Looking through notes it was cottonroot and crampbark and ended with 1 methergine tablet. My midwife mentioned hospital might need to be an option.
Pause.
With my first delivery in the hospital, I very specifically said, “Don’t give me any medication.” And after delivery was all done, the nurse walks up and sticks a needle in my IV and gives me Pitocin before I can say, “What’s that?” I was annoyed. I didn’t need it but it is their standard procedure just in case even though I said don’t give me any medication. I’m on the If You Don’t Need It You Shouldn’t Take It side of the aisle. I should have sued.
Anyway.
We went from discussing hospital to my midwife recommending that I go. I was able to walk around and I was stable so I declined and said I felt good. I just want to be still. We got instructions to go to the hospital if I continued to gush and bleed or have any large clots.
I don’t remember sleeping but I think I got some rest. And then I used the restroom and I felt a giant blood clot pass. It was literally the size of a baseball. Dang, it. Like a deliriously tired woman who just gave birth and was having some concerning blood loss, I wasn’t thinking clearly and I tried to flush it. Stupid. So that made a mess. (I later learned my dear mother was the one who cleaned it up. Love you.)
I think it was after 7:00 am when we went to the hospital. I didn’t have a hospital bag packed what with the home birth and all so we had to dig a diaper bag out of the closet. We had a car seat installed in our second vehicle that was the correct size for Troy (so he was now named). Arthur, Troy, and I went to the backup hospital while Mom and sisters stayed with my still-sleeping older boys. (They slept in the next room through the whole thing.) We were waiting to get taken to an exam room and I was in a wheel chair holding Troy and this young couple came in. The man was really agitated and uppity that it was taking so long for someone to see his girlfriend who spilled hot coffee on her leg. “She’s in a lot of pain,” he kept saying as she stood there looking sad. Arthur and I still joke about that. I’m hemorrhaging and holding a newborn baby over here but please, you go first. Ass.
The doctor was super great. At this moment I forget his name but he was very pro midwife and home birth. Chandler Regional Medical Center. I recommend it if you need it. And even though I was technically out of her care because it was transferred to the hospital, my midwife came to the hospital to help support us. <3
So this time I needed Pitocin. Oh, Universe. You got me. I don’t know if it was at all related to the constant pelvic pain I had, if it was because Troy was a semi-giant (even his umbilical cord was huge), or because I was 30 something instead of 20 something. Just postpartum hemorrhaging. We got some rest at the hospital. I was disappointed and wanted to go home so I think I was getting a little sassy. I don’t even remember what time we made it home but we didn’t have to stay over night. My phone had died and we didn’t get any pictures from the hospital. I was a bit pale and puffy for several days and it took a while to get my energy back.
I wonder if I had just laid back down would I have been fine? Probably? But it’s better not to be stubborn I guess. I mean I tried being stubborn. Troy’s pediatrician asked me if I would do it (homebirth) again. I said, “I’m NOT going to do it again but I would do it again.” If the stars align (even though I’ve gone out of my way to make sure they don’t align) I will have a heated pool next time.
The lovely midwife I keep mentioning is Crystal from injoyablebirth.com (website not longer active).
