Birth Story of #5

This is for my recollection.  You have been warned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sweet baby number 5 came two days "late" on March 15, 2016.  Due to our situation and my absolute desire to avoid the hospitals here (I have heard horror stories) and the fact we barely made it to the hospital on our last birth, we were planning a homebirth.

Let me first say, our experience was awesome. Our midwife, Vanessa, and the midwife-in-training, Camille, totally made the experience wonderful by being handsoff with so many things, yet very, very involved with the whole process.

Around 2 am, on the 15th I was horribly uncomfortable in bed. The contractions were coming, but they weren't a "typical" contraction. I would have nasty pain in one of my round ligaments that would feel like stabbing, try to roll over to only have to wait until it subsided.  Then it would continue on the other side.  Around 4 am trying to sleep through these pains, I finally got up, and drew a nice hot bath.  The contractions intensified in the tub and dropped to 6 minutes apart. After an hour, I woke my husband.  I called the midwife and 30 minutes later, they dropped to 3 minutes.

Around 6 a.m. (tine is relative) my midwives came and I was definitely in labor. I couldn't sleep...I tried.  The contractions were really close together and I just couldn't find a good place to be comfortable. I was shaking, which was weird, because that only happens around transition.  I was checked to only be at 2-3 cm. I wasn't frustrated.  I was thrilled because I knew things were progressing.

I ate a banana and tried to eat oatmeal but I was nauseous after two bites about 7:30 am.  Things were picking up and I got back in the tub. My back was hurting so badly so every contraction, someone - my husband, the assistant midwife, the midwife - applied great counter pressure to the sciatic area of my hips.

Our other four children were awake at this point and in talking to us and taking my mind off things.  Well, trying to anyway.  I was getting really frustrated because the pain was really bad, but I couldn't tell where I was in the labor progress because it was so different than child #4.  My midwife jokingly said, this baby will be born about 9 p.m. tonight.  I remember being in the middle of a contraction and I said, "absolutely NOT."  We walked around our little cul-de-sac 1.5 times.  I had three contractions and leaned on the mailboxes because my husband decided at that time to get and gather all the garbage in the garage and take it to the curb.  I was not happy, but I made it work.

Around 9:15, I texted my friend to come pick up the boys (who didn't want to be at the birth) and we sent the girls to get the hair cuts at a friends's house about the same time. I had a contraction in the living room and made eye contact with her.  It was 9:30. They wanted to be at the birth, but I'd made these appointments and they really needed haircuts.

Those appointments were a blessing in disguise.  I am glad they weren't there. I was not an angel or patient.

Around 9:30, I was whimpering because the pain was so intense. All my "helpers" were trying to get me to breathe into my belly - which may be the most difficult thing ever - and I knew we were really close. Then as I was laying on the living room floor, a contraction double and triple peaked.  I was really, really close.  The midwife calmly said, "Where did you intend on giving birth?" In the next break we went back upstairs to our bedroom.

More contractions came and I said, "I am getting to my max threshold of pain."

And then the next contraction hit, I cussed, and knew I was at the end. I sure was hopeful anyway, because I said, "I don't want to do this anymore." My husband said that when those words came out, we were really close. Vanessa checked me, told me I was at 10 cm.  I laid there during the next contraction as the baby shifted and turned in my pelvis. I hated that contraction. She was so much higher than #4, who was practically falling out at this point in his labor.

Vanessa brought over a birth stool, prepped it, l and I leaned back against my husband. I wasn't too fond of the stool, but I knew it would be effective and productive. So the last time I "pushed" with my fourth child, the intense contractions went away.  They did not this time and I didn't appreciate this fact.  They were so overwhelmingly intense and I couldn't get a good handle on pushing.  In fact, I didn't even have the "pushing" sensation for about 10 minutes. I remembered being frustrated and upset...maybe just in my head, but I wasn't thrilled.  I wanted to get off the stool, but it was like my hips had been frozen in place and moving was SO painful.  I requested to get off and when I tried, I couldn't.  So I accepted what it was and got to business.

She was making her appearance soon, and Vanessa said, "looks like she will be born en caul". This is when the amniotic sac stays in tact and doesn't break until after the baby is born.  My husband had decided that he wanted to catch her so he moved to prepare for that (which included a handwashing).
He said later that she put on gloves and he kept thinking, "where are my gloves?!" Several times I remember Vanessa telling him that it is going to get messy and prepare.

Things were not moving as fast as I want them at this point, and I have been struggling figuring out pushing. I didn't want anymore crappy contractions and I wanted to be done. I looked at my husband and I think I said, "This really hurts."

I give a huge push and say, "she's coming!" One more contraction hit, I yelled, and felt this "freight train" come out.  The poor midwife told me to "go slow, so you don't tear", but there was no going slow.  The feeling of birthing a baby is exactly like stopping a freight train - you don't stop it fast. The next contraction hit and out came our daughter at 9:57.  (BTW, I know this is TMI, but poop definitely happens during the pushing stage and I am very, very grateful for wild orange essential oil. That was a much more pleasant smell than what I would have been smelling.) Vanessa said, "wow, she's a big girl."

I was so relieved once she was in my arms.  Oh, she was slimy too!  My poor husband got messy because once she was coming out, the amniotic sac started to rupture. He told a girlfriend of mine, "I had all this crap on me."  I laughed his description, but he was right.  There was light meconium in the amnioitic fluid, so he wasn't wrong.  It took 13 minutes of pushing. I got all upset because I felt like this took so long.  In reality, active labor was only 3-ish hours, pushing 13 minutes.  It was still very intense and very fast.

I was moved to my pre-prepared bed (plastic sheets are very helpful in cleanup) and the placenta was delivered almost immediately and they cut the cord 13 minutes after she was born.  13 MINUTES.  I learned this is called a lotus birth, it's not dangerous, and better to let all the cord blood transfer to your baby. She wasn't removed from my chest for two hours. She nursed, the midwives cleaned, my husband was right next to me for all of it.

Remember how our children weren't there?  That was an incredible blessing.  I would have scared them.  The girls finished their haircuts and came home to find a new baby sister on my chest and then our 5 year old looked down at the chux pad I was on and said, "Wow, that's a lot of blood."  It wasn't really a lot of blood for birth, but for her, it was a lot of blood. The mess that was made during the actual birth would have scared her.

After two hours, Vanessa came up and started checking on the baby.  The girls were there (no boys yet) and I got to watch the sweetest moment between our daughters. The newest one recognized their voices and even being stuck on her tummy, listened to them and tried to focus on them intently for about 10 minutes.  It was amazing to watch.

We had announced her birth hours earlier but didn't know her weight, height...we just knew we had a healthy girl.

Vanessa had guessed 7.5 lbs. I knew we were looking at 8 to 8.5 lbs, but I didn't expect to go over 8.5 because I had gained so much less this pregnancy.

Vanessa put her in the scale and said, "Nine lbs..." I thought, "we broke NINE.  Wow." Then she started counting.  "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..."

What is she counting?  Pounds?

"...nine, ten, eleven.  Nine pounds, 11 ounces.  Let me do that again."  She did it again. NINE POUNDS 11 OUNCES.

Holy crap.  No wonder she couldn't get her to shift, my ribs never really stopped aching, I had more muscle pain, and round ligament issues than any other pregnancy (but still, no stretch marks!  Bonus!).  I feel like I have been run over by a truck and have been stretched more than I ever have... but it's because I had a toddler. LOL.

She demolished our family birth record. She was almost a FULL POUND bigger than our 3rd child. She has been wearing newborn stuff this week, but she fits in 3 month stuff...and she's only 72 hours old.

Big, Freaking. Baby.

My hips ache more than they ever have.  I may have bruised my tailbone. I feel like my midsection got run over by a truck.

But she is worth it and just amazing for our final installment.

Mental Blocks

I have read, several times, about mental blocks in labor.

I am positive I have had a few keeping labor from going or starting and then stopping.

The mind is a very powerful thing and it's been in my way. (It still is in my way, but for other things...for another day.)

So, my dear, wonderful Grandpa passed away.  I thought I was okay with his passing.  My husband thought I was okay.

I was NOT okay.

I wanted to be okay.  But I was definitely not.  I was pretty much sitting between the denial and anger stage.

But, at the same time, I feel like I need to grieve the end of my childbearing days.  This has been really hard for me and I have definitely been in the denial/anger stage there too.

So there I was, stuck.

Except Saturday, the anger stage came rolling in like a freight train and I didn't even know it until something set me off.

And I exploded. At the end, my poor, sweet husband sat and let me talk it out after not understanding where I was.  When these words came pouring out in sobs, I knew I was moving forward again:

"This hurts. I don't want it to hurt. I want to call my Grandpa and hear his voice, his laugh. I can't and won't ever in this Earth life.

I don't want labor to hurt. [Long pause.  I realized quickly what was happening in my head.] I want this to be quick with little pain.

But to grieve and to give life, hurt has to happen.  I can't avoid it. I can't fight it.  It has to happen and the fear has to leave."

And just like that, I felt immense peace and I was moving forward. I am not sure where I am now, I just know that has always been my most difficult stage - the anger/bargaining/depression stage.

I also know that Sunday after this breakthrough, things got moving in the labor department. While we don't have a baby yet, I am much more confident that I am happy to bring on whatever happens, pain and all.

Restless and One Hour

After handwashing the dishes last night (I miss a dishwasher.  We don't have space or correct electrical to run it), I decided to mop. I left the broom upstairs and being uber pregnant, decided to vacuum most of the dirt up off the floor first. I forgot to turn off the "beaters" so I spread dirt everywhere. [Enter first sigh]

Then I was going to hand mop, but decided, "why? I have a steam mop."  So I brought it out and proceeded to mop when -  the handle nearly broke completely off.  After a little redneck fix (aka duct tape), I went back to [careful] mopping. Well, I guess I would like a steam mop with all workable parts. It's been missing a water holder for months.  Luckily it has two. [Enter sigh 2]

I decided to clean the oven too.  Granted, it is self-cleaning, so I just push a couple buttons.  The next thing I see is flames in the oven. [Concerned at first, then grossed out. Sigh 3]

Well, I guess that needed to be cleaned.

AND THEN...I ran out of propane gas for our dryer with wet clothes in it. [Commenced laughing]

All of this happened in one hour.

We have a baby due literally any day she wants to come...and now I need a new steammop, 100lb tank for the dryer, wishing for a dishwasher, BUT at least my oven in clean and didn't burn down the house.

Lightening the Mood

My children frustrated me this morning to no end.  There were tears.

But this afternoon...oh my goodness.

Hubs and I were watching #hastags on the Tonight Show via YouTube.

One of them was talking about #worstdateever and the girl mentioned that a gust of wind blew up her skirt and showed her Spanx.

The Hubs explained what Spanx were to child #1 and said that they make you look thinner.  She responded, "Well, I won't ever need those."

Child #2 said (who is MALE and 7) said, "If I was fat, I'd wear those."

Child #3 (5 years old) said, "I won't wear Spanx."

Hubs and I just giggled.  They seriously were having a discussion about wearing Spanx.

Then I went to use the bathroom only to find the seat covered with someone else's urine and the floor covered.  Sorry if this is TMI, but this is MY life right now.

I, shocked, loudly announced from the bathroom that there was a huge mess "someone" left in there.

Child #4 vehemently denied that it was him...although we ALL know differently. 

"Are you sure [child #4]?"

"Yes.  It wasn't me."

[long pause]

"Well, maybe it WAS me." and in he went with a towel and cleaning spray.

Comic Relief

My children frustrated me this morning to no end.  There were tears.

But this afternoon...oh my goodness.

Hubs and I were watching #hastags on the Tonight Show via YouTube.

One of them was talking about #worstdateever and the girl mentioned that a gust of wind blew up her skirt and showed her Spanx.

The Hubs explained what Spanx were to child #1 and said that they make you look thinner.  She responded, "Well, I won't ever need those."

Child #2 said (who is MALE and 7) said, "If I was fat I'd wear those."

Child #3 (5 years old) said, "I won't wear Spanx."

Hubs and I just giggled.  They seriously were having a discussion about wearing Spanx.

Then I went to use the bathroom only to find the seat covered with someone else's urine and the floor covered.  Sorry if this is TMI, but this is MY life right now.

I, shocked, loudly announced from the bathroom that there was a huge mess "someone" left in there.

Child #4 vehemently denied that it was him...although we ALL know differently. 

"Are you sure [child #4]?"

"Yes.  It wasn't me."

[long pause]

"well, maybe it WAS me." and in he went with a towel and cleaning spray.

Separation

No one likes the separation of death from a loved one.

My last post, BTW....spot on.  He passed away early Saturday Morning.  Heavenly messages helped the grieving and I am so, so grateful my grandparents are together again.

I have had 24 hours to process this loss. To my surprise, I feel much less sad than I thought I would.

Today I got up and shared my testimony of families (in Spanish...I know it was grammatically incorrect, but I knew that the Spirit would guide my words directly to the hearts and minds and our awesome congregation would know what I meant).

I truly have so much joy (gozo) with his passing.  I am sad and I will miss his voice and his belly laugh (especially when he really got laughing and it jiggled his whole body). But for me it was so selfish to want to keep him here here because I couldn't deal with that separation.

His body and spirit are now separated. But that means nothing in the grand scheme of things.  It is just a separation.

Our 5 year old gave me the perfect way to teach, and also to feel the power of the principle of eternal families.

Last week as I was driving back from a doctor's appointment, she was singing the chorus to this song:

The chorus usually goes like this:

Families can be together forever
Through Heavenly Father's Plan
I always want to be with my own family
And the Lord has shown me how I can
The Lord has shown me how I can.

Our sweet and sassy five year old sang so sweetly:

Families can be together forever...

Then paused and bluntly said, "Unless they die.  Then they can't."

I giggled.  And then taught her the principle of truth I would rely on a few days later.

"You're right sweet girl.  Their bodies aren't here anymore.  But their spirits live on.  They don't die.  Our bodies stop working but our spirits are forever.  Our family is sealed together in one of the Holy Temples of the Lord and that means we will be together forever even after our bodies don't work anymore."

She looked at me and then said, "Oh.  I am SO glad!" and proceeded to sing the rest of the chorus with joy.

Families are forever.  Even during mortal separation. Knowing that is awesome and definitely made the sting of death less harsh and final.

 

 

Heavenly Father's Merciful Notice

A week ago, I was in the shower and the words to the Colin Raye song suddenly came in my head:

"If you get there before I do, don't give up on me.
I'll meet you when my chores are through;
I don't know how long I'll be.
But I'm not gonna let you down, darling wait and see.
And between now and then, till I see you again,
I'll be loving you. Love, me."

I knew instantly they were a tender notice from the Lord. My Grandpa was on his way back home.

You see, this song is the same love story between my Grandparents.  I've blogged about it before when last April, my Grandma passed away.  This song is one of the most beautiful memories I have of them together when we were all driving back from St. George, Utah, when I was about 10.

I called my Grandpa a week ago.  No one told me he had been diagnosed with severe dementia.  It broke my heart.  It was the first time in my lifetime I didn't hear his voice raise with love and joy as he recognized who I was.  He had no idea who I was.  I sat across from that man and had dinner six months ago and he was all with it. He was "done" with his 91 years of life and missed his wife immensely.  But he was totally lucid.  I got to tell him we were having our fifth child and then a few months later I got to tell him we were naming her after his wife, my Grandma, of 73 years. And then a week ago, he didn't even know what I was saying, much less remember me. It was a punch to the gut.

I cried.  Oh I cried. It tore me to pieces.

Hospice was called late last week. I don't think I've ever asked the Lord to make someone's life end quickly.  And I cried even harder.

My Mom just called me and told me my Grandpa is now comatose and the end is very, very close. Again, I asked my Father in Heaven for mercy.  Let it be quick.

I prayed that this sweet daughter will have enough time to learn to love him as much as I do.  She will know how important they are to me. She's had lots of time with her Grandmas, but I swear, I knew...I had that feeling weeks ago that she would come once he had met her. It's totally selfish, and I realize that. I want her to know them and this is the only way to know that...well, and through my memories.

Oh how I love my Grandparents. I will miss seeing their faces but I know that my family is forever.  And we will love each other through all eternity.  I am grateful for that knowledge.