Friday, May 29, 2009

Hannah's 1 month well visit

Hannah had her 1 month well visit today. She weighed in at 10 lbs. 11 oz. and now is 22" long! She is in the 75th percentile for height, and in the 90th for weight--definitely a big girl. She will SQUASH her brother when she gets older!

When the doc put her on her belly, she was amazed at how high Hannah lifted her head, and held it there looking around, as well as being able to get her knees almost completely under her and tried to lift her belly off the table. I think Hannah will be an early crawler/walker. The doctor was shocked, and asked me jokingly, "Are you sure we have the right age? This is remarkable!" I am so proud of my Hannah banana. :)



Here she is, patiently waiting for the doctor.




Finally captured one of her first smiles!


***

On the me side of things, I finally stopped bleeding--I bled for about 4 1/2 weeks. Thank god I can finally put away those ugly maxi pads.

I just got over the "I miss being pregnant" stage--now it feels so good to not to be pregnant! I can see my feet, eat what I want, feel somewhat sexy again, wear normal clothes, not feel and look like a beached whale, and finally start getting back into shape again. I cannot wait to get rid of this mommy tummy. Nasty.

I actually feel a little lost right now. For the past 3 years I was either pregnant, TTC or totally immersed in birth related issues--now I am just me, and it feels a little strange. I guess I have to get used to it again. Who knows, there may be a #3 in the future, but right now that is not even on my radar (definitely not on Jason's LOL--but I did always tell him I wanted 3 kids....), so I find myself twiddling my thumbs a bit, and thinking about normal, non-childbearing related things like finding a new job in the near future (it will feel so weird to not be a SAHM anymore..) and planning family vacations, what the hell I want to do with my life, etc. etc.

This definitely feels strange, yet it's a very welcome change...and it feels really good too. I am glad I am not as obsessed with birth related issues. I now realize just how much that consumed of my last 3 years. I feel I am more even keeled about it now--I am still passionate about it, but much less biased and much more level headed about it all.

With Hannah's birth came the birth of the new me....and I kind of like her.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Time to get this off my chest

Ever since Hannah's birth, I have had conflicting feelings about it. One moment I am in awe that I had a homebirth, my daughter wasn't pulled out of my abdomen, and I didn't rupture. I am very proud of having a homebirth. I would do it again too.

Buut....but....there are the times when I think about it, and I get a pit in my stomach. There are times when the house is quiet (rare these days) and I am getting ready for bed, that I stop and look at our bed--the bed Hannah was born onto--and feel a huge emptiness mixed with feelings of panic and anxiety. I start to think of that night. When our daughter was stuck for 4 minutes. Then pulled out blue and limp...she looked dead. Then that long, very, very long minute when she wasn't breathing, I lay there on my back, not able to look at Joni and Bea resuscitating her...I was in shock. I just looked over once, just long enough to see 4 blue lifeless limbs flopping around as they worked on her, I couldn't look again. All I kept thinking about was,"this isn't happening...this can't be happening". Out loud I was saying, "Hannah, no, please don't die...". Right then and there I was beside myself, transported to a different world. That minute seemed like an eternity. I knew I would never forgive myself if she died....and I feared Jason would never forgive me.

Then Bea started praying...that scared me even more. I could hear the fear in her voice. I still was on my back, staring at the ceiling, in disbelief.

Her cry....what a sweet, sweet sound. Sweet relief.

I held her, for a moment, then EMT's were in the room, ruining our moment, encroaching on our private, intimate meeting. Then we were off to the hospital. I wish we would have stayed home.

I don't know why I am thinking about this so much lately...maybe time has passed and I am just starting to process it. Maybe it's because I coincidentally came across a heartbreaking blog (http://elmcitydad.wordpress.com/) the other day, about a man who lost his first child, a boy, last September in a Homebirth. He died from Asphyxia that resulted from a Shoulder Dystocia. Maybe it really hit home because not only did this little boy die from Shoulder dystocia during a homebirth...but this happened just over an hour away. They live in the same state. It made me realize just how serious the situation could have been with Hannah. It also makes me pick her up and just breathe in her sweet smell...just be happy that she is alive.

This whole experience changed my outlook on birth in general. It made me change the way I feel about the cesarean. I was romanticizing a vaginal birth, a homebirth...I was so sure it would 'heal me". I am proof that getting a vaginal birth may not heal you or make you feel whole-in fact I think it made me question and doubt myself even more.

I spent my pregnancy thinking about uterine rupture-going over and over in my head that the chances of UR were only about 1 in 200. So I didn't end up with a rupture but I ended up having a Shoulder Dystocia-the odds of SD are the same as UR-go figure.

The pain was far more than I ever could have imagined. I think it left me exhausted and in shock when the birth was over--I never felt the "birth high" everyone talks about. I was just glad that hell was over. It left me battered and numb.

I really, really regret going to the hospital. When the EMT's got there, she was breathing, but her right arm pretty limp. Joni told us we did not have to go to the hospital if we didn't want to, but Jason and I did--just to be "on the safe side", I guess. I didn't get to breastfeed her or barely hold her naked body, and we were ushered away in an ambulance. While there she was poked and prodded (something I was hoping to avoid with a homebirth) the whole time crying and rooting for my breast. It was heart wrenching. I FINALLY got to feed her 2 hours later! She ended up being totally fine-all that for nothing. We stayed for 2 days because of some stupid fucking delay on some bloodwork. Since then her arm is totally normal--it just needed a few days to heal. So, all that hell for nothing. We could have just stayed at home in bed, discovering our new daughter. I know we went "just in case", but knowing what I know now--I totally regret it, and it angers me.

I didn't get any pictures or video of the birth. I wanted pictures of Hannah placed on my chest--our first meeting, etc. But instead, it was a scary moment. I was in shock from the SD and overall exhaustion and pain from the birth that that moment when they finally did hand her to me--I don't remember it! I don't even know where Jason was. I don't remember what she looked like, what I said, etc. Then when the EMT's came in, that further ruined the moment. A picture or two would have been nice, so I could have at least remembered it. I just wanted a peaceful meeting-- Jason catching her (which he originally wanted to do) ,baby handed right to me, nursing her, sleeping in our bed, or at least just get to study her face to see what she looked like! I had a homebirth for crying out loud. I should have been able to look at her. I saw her body, but never got the chance to really look at her little face...either someone was assessing her, or she had an oxygen mask over her face.

When I had the cesarean with Mason, I was so upset about not seeing him right after the birth, not being able to breastfeed him until 2 1/2 hours later, and feeling so out of it after the surgery that I didn't remember anything. Well, I had a homebirth this time hoping to avoid all of that, and I STILL missed out on so much! I didn't see my daughter right away, I wasn't able to feed her until hours later, after the birth I felt so doped up, like I was on drugs! I was so out of it, and I don't remember much. I also had a 2nd degree vaginal tear, and I was HORRIBLY swollen and sore as well. I could barely walk the first 24 hours after the birth. In the hospital, waddling to the toilet, I was having flashbacks of being in the hospital recovering from my c-section! I couldn't sit down for days. I had no idea it would be that bad.

Though my daughter came out of my vagina-I feel she was PULLED out. I don't feel I really "did it" -if I was birthing by myself-could I have gotten her out? Would she have died?
I often think how much I feel betrayed by my own body-it almost severely injured my daughter..it could have killed her. I think maybe I am just not one of those who will experience those beautiful, empowering births. The birth just left me feeling very vulnerable. It's like life slapped me in the face-I saw how fragile life was that night-I thought I was losing my daughter. I thought I was over it, but it shook me more than I realized. I am not safe, no one is safe. Mother Nature has no bias.

If I ever do get pregnant with #3, I can no longer say I "trust my body", because I don't! Actually, I am scared shitless of it happening again. After my former OB told me I am too small to deliver vaginally, the SD was a smack in the face--maybe I am. I really can't say I am confident that it wouldn't happen again. All I wanted was a peaceful homebirth. That's it. Of course I had to win the lottery and not rupture, but have a shoulder dystocia instead. It's like the universe was laughing at me. Are you kidding me?! Why this?

Even as a VBAC mama-something that I thought would magically heal me- I often ask "why me?!" Why can't I have an uncomplicated birth? Is birth really amazing and empowering? Can it be? If is is, will I ever know it? All I felt was PAIN and fear. Followed by a numbness. It was like looking life and death in the face and it scared the shit out of me-I felt no control, no peace, it was just life dealing the cards for me. It gave me a whole new perspective on natural childbirth, and how "empowering" it can be, how "safe", etc. To be totally honest, it disenchanted me and made me look at birth as more a means to an end-something that many women used to tell me when I told them how upset I was about the cesarean. Well, I get what they meant now. Who knows, maybe I am just bitter about yet another birth letdown that traumatized me, or maybe I just needed to vent, but that's how I feel right now. Maybe my birth was just so opposite of being 'one with my body', or feeling like a 'birthing goddess', or feeling ecstatic or empowered, that I just don't get it. I think I just got caught up in the hype about how amazing it all is...when really I felt like just another animal giving birth to her offspring.

Am I missing something?

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Memorial Day weekend 2009

It was Hannah's first Memorial day cookout. Angel came over and stayed the whole three day weekend. It was hectic but lots of fun. Here are some pictures from over the weekend.





Tough guy LOL


Hey...I thought he was a tough guy ;)


Mason enjoying his new sidewalk chalk


Mason mowing the lawn in his birthday suit


Angel


Hannah slept the whole time. I actually got to eat without her being attached to my boob!







Stopped and got some ice cream






playing badminton


swinging with mama


excited about something





nice hair

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Not as hellish as it once was

Hannah is almost 1 month old (wow-talk about this past month going by in a blur). I have noticed an improvement in the breastfeeding, though it's still a little rough. I have stuck with block feeding (I nurse her only from one breast for a period of 2-3 hours, then I start using the other breast) and nursing her "uphill" and that seems to help her when she is nursing. I know when letdown is coming, because I feel a pins and needles type feeling, so I take her off the breast and catch the milk in a cloth, then I put her back on, that seems to help too. She can still be pretty gassy and fussy sometimes though, but not as often as she used to.

I just can't wait until it gets like it did with Mason. It was so peaceful, and easy. I am determined to stick with it though.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Breastfeeding help needed PLEASE!

When I breastfed Mason, we had some issues in the beginning with fast letdown and gassiness/fussiness. We stuck through it (though I supplemented with formula with him, which made it "easier" to deal with since I didn't need to be the one to feed him or pump all the time) and eventually my supply evened out (don't remember when though), Mason became a breastfeeding pro, and all was well.

With Hannah, I am having the same problem. I again have a very fast letdown, and Hannah is 1000 times worse with gas and fussiness due to this. She cries, fusses, chokes and pulls off at the breast often. She will latch back on and eat a few more gulps, then turn red and cry, fuss, etc, At times she will even refuse the breast, and the cycle repeats. This goes on and on forever, and when she is "done" (I think she just gives up) she is still hungry because she drifts off to sleep only to wake up 5 minutes later rooting for my breast. She is attached to my breast 24/7, and this is very difficult with a jealous, rambunctious toddler to look after. Then, after she eats--even if I burp her--starts the gas pains. She writhes around in absolute pain, letting out these horrid cries. I am at my wits end.

I did a little experiment today. I pumped a little milk, and gave that to her in a bottle. She drank it....peacefully. She did not fuss even once. Then, she drifted off to sleep, and she didn't get those horrid gas pains after. The next feeding I went back to the breast, and she is gulping and crying again.

I don't know what to do. I want to hang on until my supply evens out--I remember breastfeeding Mason became very easy and enjoyable once this happened. I want to experience that with Hannah too. Then there is this other part of me that wants to just pump and bottle feed her--and yes, in the midst of yet another fussy, gassy sleepless night--I even thought about formula.

I have tried all the tricks that the LC's and my midwife Joni say to do--I offer one breast per feeding, express a little milk before feeding, I nurse her "uphill", etc. etc, but with no real success.

I just want it to get easy, now. Just thinking about the weeks I have to wait until it will get better just makes me want to cry. This is making me depressed. I actually dread when Jason goes to work now--I am left at home with my once angelic, sweet little boy turned spawn of Satan (his recent behavior and my inability to cope is a post in and of itself) and a needy, gassy, fussy baby.

Please, any advice? I need an intervention ladies. I don't want to give up on breastfeeding! HELP!

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

What to do, what to do...

I created this blog to chronicle my journey from TTC and eventually to VBAC, as well as lots of venting and some healing speckled in. Now that I had my BIRTH after cesarean, I find myself wondering what to do about my blog.

I know I want to keep blogging--I met some great people and, well, it's fun. I just don't know if I should start a new blog or not. It's no longer about trying to make a baby or finding my birth after a shitty surgical experience, I guess it's now about the mundane everyday existence--with my 2 beautiful kids and darling hubby of course.

I also find that ever since the birth of my daughter, I rarely even think about the cesarean. Actually, it doesn't even feel like it happened. My son is here, and that's all I think about, not how he got here. Hannah's birth really did heal me--the scary parts and all. It was a beautiful, other worldly experience that made me realize how strong I am. It was amazing. It was surreal. I did that! I birthed my baby! She wasn't too big for me--I dilated on my own and pushed her out. At home! I never, ever, ever, ever would have even thought of a homebirth before. I was all for the hospital--because having a baby at home was just scary and too darn dangerous. I had no idea how supportive Jason would be--how he would not be afraid, but looking forward to the birth. He trusted my body, just like I did.

I guess I could just change the title. I don't think I could actually leave this blog, in a way it's my baby too. It's a journal, being there for me through the emotional period of TTC, through the joys of pregnancy and to the birth of our new family.

Now I just have to think of a new name....

Friday, May 8, 2009

My kids :)


"playing" together






I am sure Jason is very happy to see Mason wearing his Lakers hat



Hannah on the other hand doesn't like them so much


A shout out to auntie Angel ;)



I can't believe she's mine :)







I am still in shock I have two kids--plural! I knew it was going to be hard, but I have to be honest here: HOLY SHIT!!

Hannah is a very clingy baby. She wants to be held 24/7, and nursed 24/7. Mason is still super jealous. I feel super guilty. I am beyond tired....tired doesn't even fit into the same category as this level of sleep deprivation. It's so hard to juggle my time between kids--and not feel like I am leaving one in the dust. Let's just say I have cried my share of tears over this.

Please, you wonderful BTDT mommies of two closely spaced children, show me your wisdom here. When does it get easier?? When? I know it will never be easy, but just easier? Or when will I just get used to it? Any tips, advice...anything? Or even just some commiserating would be helpful.

I swear, I laugh now at the thought of one child being hard. Ha! That's nothing compared to two. I can't believe how easy life was with just Mason--even waddling around at 9 months pregnant!

BTW, you mamas out there pregnant with #2 (like you, Patty!) I am not trying to scare you, I swear! ;)

Sunday, May 3, 2009

Family visit


Anne and Hannah


Hannah and her grandpa








note the funny look Mason and Jason have on their faces....like father like son.


Mason and Brianna, walking to the dock




Mason finally kisses his sister!










Friday, May 1, 2009

Hannah's birth story

Stats:

Hannah Love born April 24th (her due date!) at 10:29 PM
8 lbs. 14 oz
20 3/4" long
HBAC!

The Birth Of Hannah Love

On Thursday, April 23rd, Joni came over for my 40 week appointment, and I told her the whole time she was there I was having lots of Braxton Hicks. They weren't painful at all--just tightening. She said, "Maybe that means I will be seeing you later!" I told her, "Yeah right!" I had been having Braxton Hicks since 20 weeks, so this was nothing new, plus I was already convinced I was going to go past my due date anyway.

The Braxton Hicks continued throughout the night, and a few of them woke me up from my sleep. Friday at around 5:30 in the morning I noticed they were much stronger. They weren't very painful, but they just felt different. They had lots of pressure and the pain radiated from front to back. I was getting hopeful, but remember thinking,"yeah right, what are the odds I will go into labor on my due date.."

Then the diarrhea started--I swear I must have been in and out of the bathroom all morning. At that point I had a feeling something was up. I got up and walked around, the contractions didn't go away. I had a feeling this really was it, but at the same time I was in denial that my body was actually going into labor on it's own. I didn't want to get Jason's hopes up, so I didn't tell him. He asked me what was wrong but I told him it was nothing.

We got Mason up and had our typical morning routine. The contractions were coming anywhere from 5 to 20 minutes apart, but I could still walk and talk through them. I finally told Jason I was having some contractions, and I thought something was going on, but not sure. He did end up going to work, but told me to call if anything was happening. Looking back, I think he was in denial, as was I.

About an hour after Jason left, the contractions were suddenly getting more painful and more regular. They were about every 10 minutes apart, with some weaker ones in between. There were a few I could not walk through, and had to lean over. I started to panic a little--I always thought I would be one of those who wanted to be alone during labor, but I was just the opposite. I was afraid, I wanted someone there. I called Jason, but he didn't pick up his cell phone (found out later he was just blasting music and rocking out on the way to work) I called Angel (who was going to be in charge of watching Mason), then I called Joni and told her what was going on. As I did, I felt silly. I was still in denial that this was really it. I told her I was having regular contractions and she told me she would give me a call back later to see how things were going, or I could call her if it got really intense.

I was feeling very fidgety. I put on a Blue's Clue's for Mason, and went around the house doing some last minute cleaning and prepping for the birth. I thought about making the cupcakes that I had planned on making in early labor--for Hannah's birthday--but I just could not focus so I decided not to. I was on edge and everything was getting on my nerves. I called Jason back, but this time I called his work number, he picked up and I told him I wanted him to come home, that I was scared and I felt this was really it. Looking back, I don't know why I felt scared-I just didn't want to be alone. I also wanted Joni there but knew it was way too early. I felt I needed to have people that I loved around me.

About an hour later, Jason was home. I took a shower and got dressed, all the while having regular, strong contractions. What a sight it must have been to see a heavily pregnant woman trying to maneuver around her huge 40 week belly to shave her legs and deal with contractions at the same time.

After I was dressed Jason, Mason and I went for a walk down to the lake. I would have to stop every now and then and breathe through a contraction. The dock was peaceful, and it was a beautiful sunny day. We sat on the picnic table for a while goofing around and taking pictures. On the walk back home a neighbor stopped us to chat. Of course he asked me the question I didn't want to hear, "You're still pregnant?" I seriously wanted to beat him. I was already on edge, and in the midst of a contraction, and that was the last thing that I wanted to hear. Jason, sensing my annoyance, said,"well, we're working on it now, actually". "Oh", he said, "well good luck". I just stood there breathing through contractions while Jason chatted with him for a few minutes.

When we got home, we went out to the backyard and put Mason in his swing. We didn't have any patio furniture yet so I made Jason go inside and get my birth ball. It really helped with the pressure, but when a contraction hit I just wanted to hang onto something, and there was nothing to brace myself, so it just ended up annoying me.

We went back inside. I was hungry but nothing sounded good. Jason called Chili's and ordered us some food, then went to pick up. I stayed home with Mason, but needed to focus on contractions, so I let him on the computer so he could watch YouTube videos of PM Dawn. I kneeled on the floor leaning over the end of the bed, working through some intensifying contractions. In between contractions I called my dad who was visiting my mom at the convalescent home. I told him I was in labor. He sounded excited, but reserved--I think he was always a little worried about the homebirth, but never really said anything about it.

I don't remember when, but Joni called to check up on me and asked me how it was going. I told her the contractions were definitely stronger, and closer together--about 7-10 minutes apart--but could still talk through them. She asked me about bloody show, I told her I was having lots of discharge, but no bloody show. I then was curious and asked her why, I don't remember her exact words, but she told me something along the lines of bloody show being a good sign of dilation. I asked her if since I wasn't having bloody show, would that mean I wasn't dilating? She told me no. Still, though I know she didn't mean to plant a seed of doubt in me, but from then until my water would break later in the day, it was in the back of my mind. I was thinking that maybe I just wasn't dilating.

Jason came home with food - a yummy southwestern style chicken salad for me, and a big fat greasy burger for him. I sat on the birth ball and was devouring it between contractions. Around this time contractions were about 5-6 minutes apart, and I was starting to not be able to talk through them. Sitting up was just not working, the birth ball was starting to get uncomfortable, I just couldn't find a good position. I decided to lay on the couch with a pillow between my legs. Ouch. The contractions seemed even more intense that way. Joni called right then and asked me how I was doing. I told her I still didn't have bloody show, but I couldn't talk through some of the contractions. I had one while I was talking to her, but it was a milder one. She told me to call her back when they were so intense, all I could do was focus on getting through them, or if I had a monster contraction that gets my attention.

Mason was starting to get on my nerves a little at this point. He knew something was up. I tried to explain to him that mommy was having boo-boos in her belly because the baby in the belly was coming, and Joni (Mason loves her) was coming over to help. He was very clingy and needy--he always seemed to want me to pick him up right in the midst of a contraction. I was in the sun room, and when one particular contraction hit, I had to fall to my hands and knees to work through it. Mason jumped on my back and wanted to wrestle. I panted to Jason, "Get (pant, pant) him,(pant, pant) off me". I feel so bad about it now, but I really needed to focus through the contractions. After the contraction subsided, I stood back up like nothing ever happened. Mason probably thought I was crazy.

Angel texted me around this time and told me she was leaving work and asked if we needed any food. I told her we already ate. I was so glad she was on her way, not only for support, but also to keep Mason occupied.

By the time 4:30 rolled around, the contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart. Some milder ones were even coming every 3 minutes. I just stood in the bathroom, standing at the sink and leaning onto it, while swaying my hips with each contraction. It felt good to be up and mobile in labor--doing whatever I wanted to do. I looked in the mirror from time to time, not believing that was me in there, feeling this. My body had gone into labor on it's own--I was not broken.

I was in the bathroom, when the first really painful, oh-my-god contraction hit. I had to moan through it. It really caught me by surprise and freaked me out. I knew that must have been the monster contraction that Joni was talking about. I did not feel in control at all during it and I was starting to become fearful again. I wanted Joni there. I told Jason to call her now and tell her to please come over--contractions 4 minutes apart and very, very intense.

Angel arrived around 5 PM, and came in the bedroom to see me on my knees in front of the bed. I was moaning through a contraction, and she looked a little freaked out. The contractions were unbelievable by now. It took everything I had to make it through them. Angel went to occupy Mason, who was becoming increasingly distressed over my condition. He would cry every now and then if he heard me. Between contractions I would ask, "How is mason? Is he okay?".

Joni arrived shortly after. When she walked into the bedroom, I was curled up on the bed in a fetal position moaning through a contraction. She was ready to check my progress, and I was also eager to know how far along I was. Just when she was ready to check me, I had yet another really intense contraction and my water broke in a huge gush all over the bed. "My water broke", I said, as if it wasn't obvious. I remember whimpering to Joni ,"Oh no! Doesn't that mean they are going to get even stronger?" At that point, I was petrified at how much more painful the contraction were going to get. Joni checked me and I was 5 cm! I didn't get past 4 cm with Mason. I felt better knowing I was indeed making progress, but at the same time I knew I was only halfway there, and I had just, by definition, entered active labor.

Labor was soon very, very painful and intense, and from this point on, everything is really fuzzy. I don't remember what time it was, who said what, or even what I was doing. I had my eyes closed most of the time, so I didn't even see much of anything. All I remember was PAIN and not wanting to be alone. When I was in labor with Mason, Jason annoyed me and I didn't want him near me. This time, I needed him. I wouldn't let him leave my side. During those very intense, scary contractions, he was my anchor in a stormy sea. Every time I could feel a contraction coming on, I would say, "Grab my hand!" and I would squeeze it hard. I also remember biting him at one point (hehe), and he told me,"Don't bite, that hurts." We stood up for a while, swaying back and forth. I would lean into him when a contraction hit, and just hang from him. During one contraction, I suddenly felt like pushing. I couldn't help it. It really does feel like everyone says it does--like taking a really big shit. "I'm pushing!" I yelled. "That's okay", Joni said.

At some point, the assistant midwife, Bea, arrived, and they set up the birth supplies. Joni put the birth ball on the bed, and I leaned into that for a while. I started having some more contractions that felt very "pushy". I have always heard how the urge to push is unbelievable, and they were right. There is no fighting that urge. I thought pushing felt better though, you are actually doing something with the pain.

At one point Jason asked me what I wanted to eat. Nothing sounded very appetizing, but I did notice I was feeling pretty weak and I needed something. I told him peanut butter toast and jelly toast. He came back with them made just the way I like it--one with peanut butter and butter, and the other with jelly and butter, also a Gatorade juice box. He would periodically feed me bites of the toast and hold the Gatorade in front of my face to I could sip it every now and then.

Joni checked me at one point, and said I was 7 cm. I couldn't believe it! Seven? Really? She told me she was going to try and stretch my cervix a little bit with the next contraction, because I was pushing with every other contraction. She didn't want my cervix to swell. She then suggested I move to the toilet and try to urinate. I couldn't pee, but I did end up sitting there for a while. Jason sat to my left sitting on the sink, holding my hand. Joni was sitting on the floor at my feet, and Bea was filming a little just outside the bathroom. When a contraction would hit, I would take my right hand, brace the side of the toilet and lift myself up. I guess I did this because sitting completely on the toilet seat was too uncomfortable. Someone, I think Joni, put a cold wash cloth around my neck, and that really helped. I was getting really hot and sweaty working so hard. I would push with almost every contraction now. I could feel her head going lower and lower. I kept saying, "I can't do this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore...". Joni would just reply, "But you are doing it. Your body is doing exactly what it needs to...you went into labor on your own, it's awesome! Everything you are feeling is your own body doing what it's supposed to..." Just what I needed to hear. I am so glad that I had her there, she's not only an amazing midwife, but a wonderful person. At that point I know 100% for a fact I would have taken the epidural if someone was able to get it to me. If I were in the hospital, I know I would have gotten it. I am not going to lie, at that point I was thinking, "maybe the c-section would have been easier..." The pain was unreal. I was trying to stay on top of the contractions, but I just couldn't. I was moaning and screaming, my throat was getting sore (I actually ended up losing my voice for a few days because of all the noise I was making). I am glad I was home surrounded by people who supported me and believed in me 100%.

At some point Joni suggested I get off the toilet and try another position on the bed. The thought of moving was terrifying. As soon as the last contraction ended, I quickly made a dash for the bed, hoping one wouldn't surprise me along the way. She had me lay down so she could check me again. I was 8 cm--I was elated to hear this, but at the same time I was in so much pain it wasn't good enough. I was actually a little pissed off, thinking how long is this going to take? Joni stretched my cervix with another contraction.

The next thing I knew I was pushing with every contraction, laying on my left side with my right knee being held up by Jason. No one ever said, "10 cm-time to push!" They let me do what my body was telling me to do. Jason, Joni and Bea were awesome, cheering me on and giving me encouragement when I would say "I cannot do this!" (which I had to have said at least 100 times, I am sure) Joni encouraged me to touch her head--wow, what a feeling that was. "Looks like she has dark hair!" she said. I was expecting a blondie like Mason. That definitely gave me the motivation to push even harder. Pushing was somewhat manageable until she was crowning. Wow, that was the most intense pain I have ever felt in my life. I was screaming at one point. I have no idea how Mason, who was sleeping down the hall on the couch in the living room, did not wake up.

Joni later told me I pushed for about 2 hours. Honestly, I do not remember it being that long. Even with all the pain I was feeling, it seemed half that amount of time. I remember asking, "is her head out?" almost after every contraction, because I just wanted the pain to end. Joni and Bea would tell me I was making beautiful progress, and Jason would squeeze my hand saying,"She's right there, babe." I just kept pushing and screaming until I heard, "Her head is out!" After a few more pushes, her shoulders wouldn't budge, and this is where it gets really fuzzy and hectic.

All I remember is Bea putting down the video camera and rushing to help Joni. I was laying on my back at that point, and they told me to get on my hands and knees. As I flipped over, I looked at their faces and saw panic. That scared the crap out of me. I just remember asking, "Is she stuck!??" It felt as if they were ripping me apart. They yanked her up and down as I screamed. The pain from the contractions and the force of Joni and Bea trying to free Hannah caused me to throw up. Then they had me flip back onto my back and pull my knees up to my chest. They kept saying, "Push Michele!! PUSH!!" I pushed with all the strength I had left. I knew I needed to get her out. At that point the pain didn't matter, I didn't care if they did rip me apart--I just wanted her out and alive.

Finally, she came out. Joni later told me it was 4 minutes that she was stuck inside. Looking back, it honestly didn't feel like it was that long--those 4 minutes were such a blur to me. It was like an outer body experience. When she was out, she was limp, and not breathing, but her heart was beating fine. They gave her oxygen and tried stimulating her, meanwhile Jason and I were in shock. They had Angel call 911. I couldn't believe it was happening. I got really freaked out when Bea started praying (I was later told that Shoulder Dystocia is her worst fear). I was crying and saying over and over, "Oh no....Hannah, please don't die...this isn't happening". I glanced over at Jason, he must have been pacing because he was across the room. He had his hands to his face, looking pale.

After about one minute (but felt an eternity) she finally started breathing--I heard her crying and relief swept over me. They handed her to me. She was still warm and wet from my womb. I will never forget that feeling. I was amazed at the amount of dark hair she had--Mason was born blond and almost bald! She was so beautiful! I couldn't believe what I had just done--or should I say "we" because I felt Hannah and I worked as a team during the birth. We did it!

The placenta came out quickly and there was no hemorrhaging-which is sometimes seen with a Shoulder Dystocia. The medics arrived and Joni and Bea filled them in on what happened. Her color was fine and she was okay, but decided to go to the hospital just as a precaution. Joni and Bea cleaned me off and helped me get dressed. I went with Hannah in the ambulance, and Jason followed with Joni. Angel stayed home with Mason (who was still asleep, thank god).

They let me hold her in the ambulance, and had me hold an oxygen mask on her face. Once there, I was wheeled into the emergency room. Everyone kept saying "congratulations" as I was wheeled by with Hannah. You know that scene from Robocop, the one in which he has just been made into Robocop and the scene is shot from his perspective, with different people coming up to his face and talking to him? Well, that is what it was like for me, it seemed surreal. I felt like I was doped up. Different people were coming up to me asking questions. I couldn't believe I was at the hospital--the very place I wanted to avoid.

We were taken to L&D. I was relieved when Jason and Joni walked into the room. Of course, the nurses and doctors were asking Joni lots of questions, as if she were on trial. They asked me about my pre-natal care, etc. I kept telling them I went to the birth center until 32 weeks, then I went with Joni for a homebirth--plain and simple.

I had a resident and an intern come over and stare at my vagina to assess the damage. I had a 2nd degree vaginal tear. I got local anesthesia so they could sew me up. I was getting annoyed--the resident was asking me questions and all I wanted to do was hold Hannah and feed her her first meal. She was across the room having some blood drawn and was being checked over, the whole time crying and rooting for my breast. Joni held my hand and comforted me when I started to cry about how the birth turned out, and how I just wanted to feed her. I seriously wanted to jump off the bed and punch my way through the crowd of nurses and doctors to get to her.

After what seemed like an eternity, they said she was fine, but her right arm seemed to have some possible nerve damage from being stuck, but would need to see over time what the prognosis was. After her check up, I FINALLY got to breastfeed her--she latched on like a champ! It was wonderful. I sighed a huge sigh of relief. My baby, safe and sound.

Joni ended up leaving the hospital at around 2 AM--she stayed with us for a long time, giving us support and showing her concern. She took Jason home and then Jason drove back to the hospital in our car. He ended up staying the night there with me and Hannah and Angel stayed home with Mason.

We were supposed to go home the next morning, but there was a delay in the bloodwork so I stayed an extra day with her. That was hell. I felt like I was in a prison. Jason had to stay home with Mason, so I was alone and it was depressing and boring. Mason met his little sister for the first time at the hospital--I had always though it would have been at home.

Surprisingly, there was only one "homebirth is risky" comment while I was there. It was from the pediatrician that came to assess Hannah's arm on the last day there. She told me that I should be thankful I didn't rupture, then looked at me wide-eyed, like she was trying to scare me, "Do you know we have had ruptures happen here at the hospital?" I just looked at her and said,"Look, I did my research, I know all about it." She then said I risked my life, and Hannah's life. It annoyed me how she talked to me like I was a silly little girl.

By the time we left the hospital, her arm had already improved greatly. It is now pretty normal and I don't think she will need physical therapy, though we have an appointment with a physical therapist just to be sure.

Five days after the birth, I had my second post partum visit with Joni. I cried to her and told her that though I pushed my baby out--I still was bothered by how it ended, the dystocia, the hospital, etc. I asked her if she would consider it a failed homebirth, to which she replied,"You had your baby at home." Talking to her made me feel at peace with it.

Though the ending wasn't ideal, and very scary, it was an amazing experience overall. I pushed my baby out of my body, without pitocin, without pain meds, and disproved my former OB's "CPD" diagnosis (Hannah was 7 oz. bigger than Mason, and almost half and inch longer)--and for that I am very proud. The shoulder dystocia could have happened at the hospital too--it's just unpredictable. I accept that. It occurs in about 1% of births--so I guess we won the lottery with that one. Joni told me she's been doing homebirths for 10 years, and this was only her 3rd shoulder dystocia. We were unlucky but we pulled through and we are okay. My midwives, Joni and Bea, were incredible and handled it beautifully. I couldn't thank them enough! Such awesome women!

I can actually say now, that I birthed my baby. I just couldn't say that about Mason, it fit the term birth by definition only. I still can't believe I did it. I really did it. I pushed my beautiful little girl out of my body. She is finally here. I birthed Hannah on the same bed in which she was concieved, and into loving arms, at home.