Welcome Sweet Elijah

Negomi · #1 (**permalink**) 09-09-2006, 06:01 PM

In early September 2005 I had an incredibly vivid dream that I was pregnant with a baby boy. This was despite that fact that Dh and I were diligently using contraception. I thought no more about it until a week or so later when I started to feel some nausea off and on. Even before I could finish telling DH about this he just looked at me shaking his head with a disbelieving kind of smile he was so sure I was pregnant. So then and there it was decided, no tests needed, I was expecting our third child.

Our plans for the birth of this baby were left undecided as we knew would be moving to Toowoomba before this baby arrived and that the wonderful birth centre where I had given birth to Miranda would not be available. I knew that having my own midwife was not an option for me but a necessity, so I set about finding one. Luckily, I did find an independent midwife in practice, who also did homebirths. After meeting with her and checking that Dh had no reservations, our journey towards a homebirth had begun.

I told next to no-one about our plans to have this baby at home. Throughout the pregnancy, I justified this to myself on the grounds that I was avoiding unnecessary negativity. To be honest though, I’ve never been too concerned about the opinions of others. Instead, I realise now that I wasn’t allowing myself to fully commit to birthing at home for fear that it wouldn’t actually happen. My midwife has fairly conservative criteria for who she will attend at home and I was subconsciously protecting myself from disappointment.

Unfortunately, this pregnancy was plagued by morning sickness throughout and overshadowed the enjoyment of carrying such a precious creation inside me. Despite the constant nausea, the pregnancy was otherwise trouble free and by the time my due date approached I was well and truly ready to give birth. As much to feel well for the first time that year as to meet my much longed for child.

In the weeks leading up to the birth, bubba was consistently posterior, despite every attempt humanly possible to spin it around. So when my due date of 27 May came and went no one was really surprised. Even so, I was experiencing the pre-labour signs that I had also had in my previous pregnancy and knew bub was getting ready and would make an appearance in its own good time. Dh, however, was delighted as the days ticked by. He was needing to finish a major project and didn’t really want the baby born before he had tied off all the loose ends. On May 31, he finally headed off on paternity leave. We had been telling the girls throughout my pregnancy that the baby would arrive at Winter time, so with the change of season the next day we were ALL now ready for the little one to arrive.

I was woken in the wee hours of the morning, where I once again was dreaming of our baby boy, when I felt an almighty thump from bubba inside. The sensation was so low and forceful I could swear a hand had punched right through down into my vagina. A few seconds later I felt the tell-tale trickle signalling my waters had broken. I thought it was just a small leak but as I got up to make my way to the toilet I realised my jammies were soaked and there was already a good sized puddle forming at my feet. I was hit by the usual rush of excitement and churn of the tummy as I knew our bubba was finally on its way.

I headed off to the loo with some trepidation as my labour with Imogen had also begun with my waters breaking. The liquor was found to be lightly stained with meconium which had signalled the beginning of a fairly medicalised birth. I knew if there was meconium this time, homebirth wouldn’t be an option. So with a quick intake of breath I steeled myself to examine my undies. Phew, clear waters with a light pinkish tinge, all was well.

I got myself padded up and headed back to bed. My bedside clock said it was 2:30am so I decided to try and get some more sleep knowing it could be a long time before labour would begin. I was quietly confident, however, that we would meet our baby that day and a little chuffed that it would be arriving on the first day of Winter, just as I’d been telling the girls all along.

Once my head had hit the pillow I started to contract almost immediately. I dozed through these for a while but decided to get up as I knew I was being restless and didn’t want to wake DH. It was absolutely freezing so my first task was to get the house nice and warm, there was no way I wanted to labour in the cold. I potted around for a while pulling out the boxes of birth supplies we had prepared and laying out some receiving blankets and tiny clothes for the baby when it arrived.

Contractions continued to be fairly mild so I put on Pride and Prejudice, my favourite comfort viewing, did some yoga and bounced on the opti-ball for a while. By about 4am the contractions started to step up a notch and I decided it was time to wake DH and let him know that bubba was on its way. Dh emerged from showering and getting dressed to find me now leaning on furniture and concentrating during contractions. As both my previous labours had been fairly quick, we both agreed we would have a new baby for breakfast. We were wrong!

I was reluctant to call my Mum, the support person for the girls, or my midwife before normal waking time, but by about 6:30am thought we should let Mum know as she had over an hour drive to get to our place. We then called my midwife who seemed pleased I was in labour, if a little concerned that I had been already labouring for several hours without being monitored at all. I assured her everything was going fine and she needn’t hurry, to pop around when she had organised her own family for the day. As she only lives a block away, she said she’d see us after brekky.

In the meantime we had received a call from my father to say that Mum wouldn’t be coming after all. What the??? Luckily I was too caught up in the labour by then to really care but was worried that my midwife would be miffed that I no longer had a support person for the girls like we had agreed. Both my princesses had woken by then and apart from the excitement that the baby was finally coming, they were content to eat their breakfast and go about playing as usual.

I was feeling all the pain in my back and continued to pace the house holding heat bags to my back, stopping and leaning forward on the dining table during contractions. Unfortunately, while labour hadn’t stalled, it wasn’t picking up in intensity either. Breakfast had come and gone and still no baby. My midwife arrived, and confirmed that all was well with bubba and me. She had also called my doula who would be arriving shortly.

I asked my midwife what I could do to get labour moving along and she suggested some deep lunges. Sure enough every time I would lower myself down with my right leg a killer contraction would take hold of me. During this time, my doula quietly let herself in through the front door and her warm presence immediately engulfed us all. The morning activities were all getting rather hectic inside our small house so I decided to go outside to get some space, climb the stairs and contemplate where this labour was going.

Stepping outside, the freezing air hit my face and the bright sunshine cheered my spirits. It was just lovely to be in the garden and look around at the beautiful day which would become my baby’s birthday. When the cold started to get the better of me I headed back inside to my waiting family. Dh then told me he thought it was best that he take Imogen to school as he felt all his time was being consumed with the girls and he wasn’t being able to support me. Imogen was happy to go to school as long as she could be picked up as soon as the baby had arrived. So after a few tears and lots of hugs, Dh headed off with the girls.

Around this time my midwife asked if it would be alright if she headed off to check on another of her Mum’s who was also in early labour. It was just this peace I needed to really get into my birthing day. With just my doula and myself now at home I felt very relaxed and the contractions started to pick up in intensity. A shower was decided upon as I was starting to feel a little weary – I had been constantly on my feet for about six hours at this point as any other position was just too uncomfortable.

I stepped out of the shower to find everyone had arrived back at home. Miranda came and got a towel and helped Mummy dry off so she could give me lots of back rubs and cuddles. My midwife sat quietly writing her notes and I said to Dh that I thought it was about time he started filling the pool. I was now swaying and breathing deeply through all my contractions and holding on tightly to the tops of shelves and bookcases. My midwife rubbed my lower back and whispered words of encouragement to me while my doula gave me some reflexology to help cope with the pain.

Time seemed to slip away at this point but the fact that the pool was now warm, ready and waiting didn’t escape me. We had decided in my birth plan that I wouldn’t get into to the pool until I decided that I was no longer coping with the contractions and really needed something to help me through the next stage. I knew from previous labours that I wasn’t at this point yet but that warm water just looked oh so inviting. I asked my midwife if she thought it would be alright to hop in and she said sure, I could always get out if labour slowed.

I enthusiastically ripped off my clothes and into the pool I went. Much to my surprise I HATED it!!! The change of position from standing just threw me out of my comfort zone and I just couldn’t get back into a groove. Nothing felt comfortable anymore and if it wasn’t for all the time and effort Dh had put into getting the damn thing ready I would have hopped out then and there (sound like transition anyone?)

I found my way to kneeling forward in the pool with my arms and head supported on the edge, not because this was particularly comfortable, but this is how I was when it became just too unbearable to move. My midwife gave me some homeopathics of I don’t know what at this point to try and help me find my bearings. It was around this time that the pain would not recede even between contractions. I had never experienced this before and I started to feel anxious that something was wrong, that this wasn’t the way it should be feeling. My midwife calmly assured me that what I was feeling was baby finally turning around and that the pain may stay like this now until the baby was born. Many expletives crossed my mind at this point but I was just too darn consumed by the pain to express them.

During this time my angel of a doula tirelessly applied steaming hot nappies to my aching back and I could quietly hear Miranda and Dh chatting in the background. My midwife’s mantra throughout the labour had been to, “breathe it down to the baby” and by this stage I was breathing so hard while my head rested on the side of the pool I felt like I was blowing the damn thing up and it was at this moment that it happened.

I could feel that familiar burning sensation as my baby began to crown. What! Crown already I thought, no-one had even told me it was time to push. I could feel the exquisite mixture of pleasure and pain as my bubba wiggled his way out into the world. Eager for my baby to be in my arms I gave myself away to that totally unearthly place I needed to be for my baby to free himself from my body. I could hear Dh quietly whisper to Miranda to look at the baby’s head and my midwife told me that bubba was born up to his eyebrows and would be out with the next contraction. Oh what a rush of sheer joy and triumph as I felt the little body slide out of mine.

Dh scooped bubba up as I turned over and I got my first glance of my newborn baby as he was gently laid down against my chest. Yes, a long awaited son, we we’re all in awe. He arrived as silently as I had been throughout the labour and just looked up at our faces as he took his first breaths in his new world. Miranda looked on with eyes as big as moons and hugged her Daddy tightly as we all welcomed our little boy. He was absolutely slathered in vernix and even more beautiful and precious than the baby of my dreams.

After all getting to know each other for a little while, Dh cut the cord and cradled our son as I got out of the pool to birth the placenta. With some help from my newborn suckling at the breast a beautiful, big, red, blue, pink and purple placenta arrived about ten minutes later without a hitch. While I took a shower, my doula dashed out to pick up Imogen and my midwife warmed the soup on the stove. It was now midday and we all sat down to a warm and hearty well deserved lunch.

Sisterly hugs and kisses abounded as we all agreed on Elijah as the perfect name for our son and brother. He arrived in the world at 11:30am on June 1 2006, weighing a very healthy 4.6kg and was 58cm long.

WE LOVE YOU SWEET ELIJAH