I earnestly believed my fourth baby was going to come unusually early. My babies were all born hovering close to their due dates, but never past. His official due date was January 6, 2020 but I was absolutely convinced my 3rd son would be with us by Christmas. Christmas came and passed, and I thought then for sure he would be here before New Year and he would be a 2019 baby. By January 2nd (a year ago today), I was growing increasingly impatient. I knew I had little to complain about, my pregnancy was healthy, I had a house full of help (Mom and Dad had been with us since the 21st of December) and I was anticipating a beautiful home birth with a professional, supportive and loving team. And I wasn’t even past my due date!
Nevertheless, this being my 4th time birthing, and being hyper aware of the days, every ache, every Braxton Hicks, every single hormonal fluctuation… by January 3rd, I felt nothing. I felt exceedingly and painfully NORMAL. Like this baby was comfy and about to hang out for another 40 weeks because that’s how normal I felt… I relived all the previous 12-24 hours before my other births and tried to conjure the activities, sensations and mindsets but it wasn’t happening. Is this the final boost of energy before the big show? Nope. Is this a surge of endorphins making me feel giddy and loopy? Not a chance. Mucus plug? Try again. I was tired, cranky and frustrated. And above all, I annoyingly knew full well that this sense of defeat and frustration was in fact the hormones at work, making my emotions nice and raw for the real deal.
Friday January 3rd, 2020 / Saturday January 4, 2020: The Build Up
3:00AM
All the things felt heavy. My body. My mind. The routine with 3 kids ages 4, 2 and 1. The waiting. The hormones. Everything felt absolutely exhausting and draining and I realized that I hadn’t had fun or had a good laugh in what felt like weeks. I just wanted to feel normal and light and all I felt was impatient and heavy and tired. I’ve realized that I am a woman that is equally enamored with and repelled by dichotomy. By the 39th week, I overall loathed the waiting and anticipating the beginning stages of early labor but I relished the quiet moments where I felt my body tingling and embracing these last few moments, hours, days that I was growing a baby inside of me. I hated the feeling of waddling around like a giant whale-penguin and having to heave my kids around, but the feeling of carrying my unborn baby and holding my earthside children brought tears to my eyes regularly. I basically cannot absolutely dislike something without a part of me being absolutely in love with its flip side. I remember how “miserable” I felt, how “hopeless” that I was “never” going to meet my baby – I genuinely believed that he was never going to come out – the silly things that hormones make you think and feel!
At 3AM, I woke up wide eyed for no apparent reason. No kids were crying or creeping into our room like they had been for weeks, interrupting my sleep. I tossed and turned for a few minutes and then realized that I was completely wide awake and very annoyed that I had the opportunity to sleep comfortably (without any kids crawling all over me all night) and yet my mind would not rest. Just as soon as I had that thought, I heard Jacob crying in his room calling for me. At least this was something for me to do since I couldn’t sleep anyway! I walked down the hallway to get Jacob who was sharing his room with grandma and grandpa and brought my 22 month old into our room to nurse him back to sleep. As I laid down and started to nurse him, I started feeling pressure and a strong urge to go to the bathroom, followed by long, strong contractions. It was startling to be awoken to these familiar waves but I was downright excited. I was awake for hours, breathing through contractions… however by morning, they had fizzled out. Another day after a night of poor sleep, a cranky mood and still pregnant!
I told John that we needed to get out of the house with the kids today. I needed to do and feel something normal to get my mind off of things and stop waddling around the house waiting for something to happen. We packed up the kids in the car and just started to drive around to figure out what to do. The kids fell asleep so John and I drove to The Lost Cajun on Pelham and each had a shrimp Po Boy and then debated bringing the kids to a park or the mall. It started to rain, so we opted for the mall.
They were super excited since they love the mall playground area. I was not so excited because it was our first time there since they renovated the play area and it was no longer an enclosed space where the kids couldn’t escape, and it was really not fun chasing my kids having to bring them back over and over again at 40 weeks pregnant. I look back on it now, a year ago minus a day, and my heart is warmed at the memory of this last outing as a family of five. Our triple stroller was packed to the brim as usual; shoes, coats, socks, sweaters, leftover Chick Fil A nuggets, baby wipes, and all of the kids were running around the mall as John and I tried to catch them. But at the moment, my idea of a fun outing was making me more exhausted and stressed out than I would have liked. We are a hot mess whenever we go anywhere, despite my attempts to tighten up our ship – but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When we were done at the mall, we packed the kids up in the van and they fell asleep pretty soon after from the busy afternoon. We stopped at Chick Fil A for a coffee on the way home and as we pulled out of the drive thru, I just started bawling hysterically as I held my iced coffee that was supposed to make me “feel” better but instead it was actually making me sick to my stomach. Nothing was uplifting my mood and I knew that all this anticipation, waiting and wanting to be in control was starting to overwhelm me and the flow of tears was necessary and cathartic. I felt so tense and tied up with the waiting and I had to snap out of it. I was looking for outwardly, sensory opportunities to distract me but I just needed to let things go and let everything out. I cried and cried and I knew that John sympathized with my frustration.
The evening was a little less heavy after that release. For the first time, in forever, I gave the 3 kids a bath and I got in the bath with them, all 40 weeks of pregnant me. I hadn’t done that in a long time, and the kids were a bit surprised but also very excited to be taking bath with Mama. I reveled in the memories of bathing with each of my babies throughout the years, remembering the hours of skin to skin we have spent together in our little bubble of bonding – and it made my heart leap for joy that I was having these moments with them. It was relaxing and such a nice feeling to be in the water with all of my babies before their baby brother arrived. Hint 1: Endorphins start to release.
Cierra texted me to see if a Target walk or ice cream would be uplifting but I just wanted to be home in my pajamas on my couch. John watched and agonized over an epic Pats vs Titans game where they got knocked out of the playoffs. If you know my husband, you’ll know that it was a devastating game! Meanwhile, I was cleaning the kids’ playroom at 11 at night. I remember my dad came downstairs and gave me this incredulous look as I was moving all the furniture to vacuum behind everything. Hint 2: Last burst of energy before the big show!
Sunday January 5, 2020
3AM. A lot of pressure waves woke me up. Also – Kids just know. For the first time in months, ALL of our kids were in our bed this night somehow. A 4.5, 2 and 1 year old, pregnant me and John. That’s a lot of bodies even in a king size bed. I was able to continue “sleeping” but consistently woke up and had to breathe the peace out of quite a few of them. I am very fuzzy about this part but I woke up and just knew things were starting, and the best thing I could do was… try to keep sleeping and get as much rest as I could. John woke up early on Sunday mornings to help set up our church at the Hilton and he was out the door by 6:20AM. I told him that I was pretty sure I was having contractions but he should just go ahead and go because he was usually back within an hour anyway.
What a piece of heaven. In my bed with my 3 babies while my 4th baby was just knocking on the door ready to come out.
Sunday morning after sleeping through my early stages of labor. Tons of contractions and a bed full of babies!
7:55AM: I got out of bed to see if these contractions would fizzle out like they did the night before. I texted Cierra, who is one of my best friends as well as my doula in all things life, to let her know in case things got into gear. I, for one, was not yet convinced that this was “it”. True to my nature, I hate to inconvenience people, and I was not confident enough to say the words outloud that today was the day! (That would change very shortly) We exchanged a few humorous texts and she me mentioned that our former midwife and friend, Kristine, had excellent spidey senses when it came to birthing time, and that she had commented on a photo that I had posted the day before.
The contractions started to become intense. I sat down for a few minutes and had a few bites of my all time favorite breakfast – my mom’s pancakes, but I couldn’t get more than a few bites down. The usual morning craziness was happening around me but I was focused on breathing and listening to my body through these waves. I sat on the couch with my sweet baby Jacky, my most surprise baby, now graduating to becoming a big brother. My heart has always been the softest for my Jacob, the third baby, the sweetest, easiest, most affectionate and loving personality, and these would be our last few moments as him being my littlest. I held him tight, snuggled his warmth and kissed him all over and my heart ached with joy as I remembered his birthing time at home. He nursed for a few minutes and then he jumped off to play with his siblings.
Me and my sweet, sweet Jacobee
I put in The Lower Lights Christmas album that I had been listening to for weeks, and my biggest contractions were hitting me through “O Come All Ye Faithful” and “I Saw Three Ships” before I had to turn it off. Music has never been a big part of my labors because I find it over stimulating to listen to music and labor – which is funny because I’m a musician and you’d think it would help put me in the zone, but it never has! I sat with John and the kids on the Nugget in the playroom and read books to the kids as I continued to labor and I leaned into this precious moment with my family. This would be our last moment/photo taken as a family of five and I knew it.
Midwife was on her way!
8:21AM: I texted my midwife, Linda. Contractions were not yet at the 5-1-1 mark but were very consistent. At 8:30AM, I started timing. I remember going to the bathroom to sit on the toilet and try to catch my breath and labor there, and that’s when the contractions started to hit hard. I was alone and the contractions brought me to my knees as I started to groan those heavy labor moans. My mom came to check on me, and as she has been with me during the birthing and births of all of my 3 babies, she knew what was happening! I, of course, was still being stubborn and didn’t want to make the call haha. She walked with me and held me up for a few more contractions until I decided it was time.
By 9:15, I sent Linda the pattern of my contractions and she was on her way. Right after that, I texted Cierra to come and for Jocie, my friend and birth photographer to see if she wasn’t doing anything today and felt like photographing a home birth!
Considering I was just getting out of bed at 8AM, and here I was at 9:15 telling the whole birth team to get here, things were moving pretty quick!
I told John to start getting the birth tub inflated and to get the birthing ball to clean it which had been in our backyard for months. He was channeling his anxiousness by scrubbing down the birthing ball in the bathroom as I continued to walk around. I honestly don’t remember what or where my kids were during this time, probably playing with my Dad in their room, thank God for my parents being there.
It was the most beautiful day ever: the perfect sunny, winter day. It brought me so much joy to see the sunshine and the outdoors – I absolutely love remembering this day. More than anything, I had desired to labor during the day again. I wanted to see sunlight, to be outside, I wanted light. And this Sunday happened to be the most beautiful, sunbeam saturated, perfect morning. I was determined to labor outside. I had visions of me walking barefoot in the yard, looking up at the sky and feeling the waves overtake me. As I hobbled around my house between contractions, I made my way to the front door in my nightgown that kept popping open and my mom asked, “Where are you going?” to which I responded, “I’m just going to go outside for a few minutes! I want to labor outside!” My mom understandably probably thought I was crazy and she wasn’t wrong but I had to get outside. It was a beautiful morning, but it was COLD. I stepped outside and I immediately felt the sharp icy air overwhelm me. I started down the stairs and walked out onto the frosty grass in my bare feet and looked around for neighbors who probably thought I was crazy, because I downright looked pretty nuts at that moment. Keep in mind, I was having strong contractions every 3-4 minutes at this point and I was determined to have my few moments in the fresh air and sunlight, since my last two births were at night. I took my moments in the cold air, and after that was done and over with and I froze after about 30 seconds, I hobbled back up my front stairs and through the door just in time to drape myself over the stairs and moan deeply into a contraction that felt like 3 in 1. My mom basically ordered me to get upstairs and get warmed up.
Prarie arrived first. Since my labor started on this beautiful Sunday morning, it is worth noting that all my midwives were looking radiant and beautiful in their church clothes since I called them in on their way to church! Praire has a calm, collected and warm disposition, the kind of person you could sit with for hours and the sharing of words would just keep coming. I felt safe and supported as she went about my room and bathroom prepping. I LOVE the calming presence of a midwife. My birthing times are wild in my mind. Full of BIG emotions, frantic waves and despite all of my efforts, every contraction takes my breath away. I am not a “peaceful” birthing warrior. I am an all out warrior as I take most of the time battling myself, ready to plow through everything head on, and with a loud battle cry. I pace, I can’t sit still, I can’t decide where I want to be and what I should do. And I don’t think there is any other presence that has brought me more calm, peace and safety than that of my attending midwives. Prarie said I was doing a great job. Midwives always say that and I never believe them because… this birthing business is some good, hard work that takes literally everything out of me!
I don’t know the timing. But I believe Cierra came next, and then Sheila and then Linda. Or maybe they all came at once. Everything happened really quickly. Cierra let me know she had been in touch with Jocie and she was making her way over.
photo cred: Cierra Nielsen.
I labored on the ball, and paced the room. It was moving quickly, that much I knew. I couldn’t get comfortable. I asked Linda to check how far along I was. This is my least favorite part and I’m so glad that it isn’t a routine procedure to check methodically. My midwife would only check if I wanted her to. Birthing time doesn’t necessarily progress in a steady manner, everything feels like it jumps around, slows down, then speeds up, and slows down again etc. All that being said, I wasn’t prepared for her assessment. I was only 4cm! How could I only be 4 cm? Things moved fast and this labor felt crazy intense. I love my birth team. I feel like every single one of my birth team was well aware of how sensitive a Mama is to hearing “how far” she is dilated. I feel like the energy shifted when I felt the disappointment and they all uplifted me in positive words assuring me that I was working hard and that it didn’t matter how much I was dilated, that baby was coming SOON. I admit, 4 cm was hard to hear. After 3 unmedicated births, after all of the knowledge I have acquired about birthing time, I was still disappointed that I wasn’t dilated further, for some reason, thinking it was a reflection of something I was doing wrong. Labor for me is an experience that fully exposes all of my insecurity and vulnerability. I have a hard shell that protects a lot and that shell is wide open and raw during birthing time. That was the first and only time I checked to see how “far” I was. The rest was up to my body and my baby! I love how midwives are trained are so in tune to know how a Mom is progressing without having to check dilation.
I was tired. I needed a recharge. I knew that was not the route to go if I wanted my labor to progress but I needed a little break. I laid down on my back on my bed for a few contractions to catch my breath and close my eyes. After a few minutes, I was ready to get going again. “What should I do? What other positions can I try?”
Cierra suggested a position on my knees, laying prostrate on the bed with a pillow to support my head. This was a moment I will never forget. It seemed soothing at first… but the next contraction that hit me in that moment sideswiped me like nothing else. As I felt the wave start, I started to breathe when all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe in that position. I sat straight up on my knees in the middle of my bed and yelled out, “I’m going to throw up!” Sheila and Cierra scrambled to find something and just in time as someone held something up to my mouth, the door creaked open and Jocie peeped in at the exact moment that I threw up the pancakes I had for breakfast. She gave me a sweet smile and then closed the door again so she could have a moment. Seeing someone throw up upon first arrival definitely warrants a minute to yourself!
I hate throwing up. I had never thrown up during a pregnancy (except for a bout of a stomach bug once) and had heard plenty of intense stories of throwing up during labor. This was a first and it definitely freaked me out. That position that Cierra suggested was intense and definitely got the birthing time into a different gear! Sheila, who was an absolute wealth of knowledge, helped clean me up and assured me that throwing up was a GREAT thing. She explained it in a way more knowledgable and eloquent way that somehow throwing up was body’s way of making more room for baby to move down and now that all of that is out of the way, he would be making his way down easier. As a result of that, I also had my bloody show while I threw up, so my body was in full gear! With all of my babies, I lost my mucus plug shortly before early stages of labor. Here I lost mine just as everything was about to get going!
John was his usual wonderful birthing partner self. He never left my side and he knew I was in good hands with our team. I continued my vocal labor and was ready to get in the tub. I felt like the time was coming. While the tub was filling up, I continued to pace the room changing positions frequently. I felt antsy, like I couldn’t stay still. I felt tired and drained but wired at the same time. I felt like I was in a very familiar place and time, and I knew what to anticipate and expect, but I knew the ride would be different anyhow. I got through a few more contractions being supported by Sheila, and Cierra and back to John and so on. And as the tub was ready for me, I held on to John as I walked and IT hit me.
“OH NO No no no no no no. I can’t do this. I know why I’m saying this. I know. But I can’t. This is not happening. How am I going to do this? I can’t do this.” And so on.
It is so bizarre and fascinating how this is such a significant marker during labor. When transition begins and the veil is lifted and something overtakes me and almost every bit of my body screams, “I can’t do this!!!” This was my 4th unmedicated labor and it has happened every single time. Like, I can’t control the words coming out of my mouth except for this sheer panic that this task at hand before me, cannot possibly be done.
And I also knew the warm, loving faces in the room would assure me, “Yes! You have done this. And you ARE doing this. You can do this.”
Sitting in the tub with my birthing team around me, John held my hands. I switched from laying on my back to flipping on my knees. Contractions were strong and steady and I was missing the mark on low tones. I have never been one to labor with music on because I find it too overstimulating but now it felt too quiet. I needed something in the background. I asked Cierra to put on my trusty hypnobirthing relaxation music without the hypnosis. The familiar binaural beats filled the room and it reminded me of Jacob’s birth, which immediately felt comforting in this space.
I knew it was coming so soon, and the contractions hurt. They hurt so bad, and I felt weak and helpless. I remember moving around the tub a lot, hearing the friction of my knees against the rubber and I shifted to try to find a comfortable position. Some women (I assume) feel strong, empowered, and give in to the contractions. I tend to embrace how the quaking of my entire being within me is a power that is greater than I am, and that I am a vessel for this ground breaking, earth shattering, mountain moving space and time where a woman’s body does the unimaginable, the incredible science and miracle of opening itself, releasing its own cocktail of enhancers and stabilizers, brings the mind to a completely different platform and allows for a baby to descend and enter life on this earth. To me, this is all above, beyond and so much bigger than me.
“You are not doing this alone. God is doing this with you” Linda reminded me.
Sheila pointed out my birthing affirmations, still on my wall from Jacob’s birth almost two years ago. “Re-read your affirmations. They are there for you.” I focused in on my favorite verses in Isaiah 43, that calmed me during Jacob’s birth.
“But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob,
he who formed you, O Israel:
“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name, you are mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned,
and the flame shall not consume you.
3 For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.
Here I was again, at the cusp of becoming a mother again. Of being born as a mother of 4. Here I was, on my knees, bearing down and feeling the fear of a wall between me and my baby. I knew I had passed transition and was 10 cm dilated but I was having a block. I was filled with fear and doubt almost paralyzed by it. I sincerely did not think I could push through this wall.
My waters hadn’t ruptured. This was a fear I had yet to address and it was causing a mental and physical block. I was at the verge of tears because I was so afraid. My birth team started to talk me through this. Cierra asked me with all sincerity, “What are you afraid of?”
“I’m afraid of pushing with my waters not broken”
With JF, my waters broke before labor started. With Juliet, which was a traumatic experience, I was told they were broken, when they weren’t, and the ordeal of pushing almost broke me; and with Jacob, my midwife mercifully broke my waters. With this birth, my midwife would not break my water because it was not lawful under homebirth laws, and she strongly believed that waters will break when the time is right and everything is in place for baby to come. (I had a ton of postpartum issues after Jacob’s birth – and I strongly believe now that It was because my waters were broken but that’s another story)
I had some pretty deep seeded issues with my waters breaking and it was only coming to light at this very moment. I had the words burned in my mind, “Pushing against a bag of waters is like pushing against a brick wall”. I revealed this to my birth team and at the very moment, it dawned upon me how REAL that had become in my mind. That I could NOT push this baby out because I could literally SEE and feel a brick wall between my baby and my vagina because this statement was said to me when I was pregnant early on with Jacob, when I was still traumatized from Juliet’s birth. It is amazing the power and effect words can have on the mind!
I felt like once I revealed and clearly put into words that specific fear… it released me. And it enabled my birth team to help me in the way that I needed it. I needed to be told that my waters were certainly not a brick wall. And that they would rupture at the right time…or not! And baby could come en caul which to me, is absolutely incredible. I needed to know and hear that my bags of waters were not an enemy but part of the incredible design of everything happening. For some reason, I believed that my baby would not come out because of these waters that were still in tact. And in fact, it would just be the natural progression to push even through in tact waters.
11:47AM: The time to push was upon me. I felt my body start to bear down, no longer in the form of painful contractions but strong pressure-heavy urges to empty my bowels. With each contraction, I knew how much work my body was doing to get my baby lower and lower down the birth canal as I worked to push with every ounce of my being. I was on my knees, and propped another knee up as I pushed the kind of push that went straight to my head and my midwives cheered me on to keep going and my waters ruptured! Things got heavy and real and I was in the zone, welcoming each contraction as I leveraged myself by holding on to whoever was within reach to help me get into a position that I could bear down. The pressure was heavy and deep and I knew, I just knew he was so near and I couldn’t wait. I was tired of laboring and I was just ready to have my baby in my arms. It wasn’t long, my second stage of labor lasted all of 5 minutes of pushing, as I charged with full force, determined to have my baby in my arms. (Get ready for a lot of action filled photos here!)
At 11:52AM on Sunday January 5, 2020, On one knee, with one leg up and holding on to my midwives, I gave my final pushes and felt my body open up to its fullest and birth my baby in that beautiful, intense, powerful release only an unmedicated birth can make you feel. He slid right out and into the water and Prarie caught him and brought him up to my arms. He was here, my beautiful baby Jamesie was here and the joy of all the beautiful toxins surging through my body, the sunlight enveloping the room and the love I felt radiating from my birth team, made these perfect precious moments absolute heaven. I couldn’t believe that my baby was here and in my arms, still attached to me, all covered in the soft vernix, breathing softly, gently and so alive, and already cuddling into me for safety and warmth. I could bottle these moments just to relive them, hear the sounds, smell the air, breathe in my baby’s smell, reach for John’s hands, look adoringly and thankfully at Linda, Prarie and Cierra, see Jocie wipe her eyes between taking photos, feel my mom brush my hair from my face and greet her new grandson with a big smile and moist eyes…. I thank God for every moment that I can still remember with my mind and that I can still feel in my heart. Jamesie’s birth was one of beauty, sunlight, peace and joy. It was fast, and it was full of growth and stretching within a 2-3 hour time span.
The kids came in to meet their baby brother. It was blissful and John Fredrick was especially curious about all the midwife equipment, and true to his nature, he quite literally wanted to take over. Cierra made me her heavenly and magical postpartum soup which I salivate just thinking of. Jamesie (not yet named at the time) was 21” and 7 lbs 10 oz. and the most precious gift of 2020 – he has made this year so special and it was an honor to relive this experience a year after his birth.
It was an absolute gift to have my sweet friend, Jocie Conrad, take beautiful photos of my birthing time and James’s birth.
Thank you, Jesus for this perfect day and my precious gifts that are my babies.
8fourteen15 