Anthony's Birth

Birth Story VI

The Final Chapter

Anthony’s Birth

“Do you trust the midwives?”

It was a fair question, given they had successfully walked us through the births of three of our previous children. Yes, I assured Forrest, I trusted them. What I couldn’t get out of my head was 24 hours. This was the maximum time a hospital would want baby to stay inside mama after waters had broken. This was completely unexpected.

I was 38 weeks to the day and having one of my tired down days. I had been up in my bedroom for four hours attempting a nap. With five kids in the house this was rather difficult. I only wanted Ashlee to keep them downstairs and quiet, a seemingly impossible feat at the rate things were going. Despite all my efforts to stay on top of chores until the birth, this was one of those days when I had let things go. The downstairs was not in the condition I wanted it to be, but I didn’t care at the time. What I needed most was rest.

It was about 4:30 when I rolled over and decided that maybe I should think about getting up. I felt an involuntary gush between my legs. I didn’t think I was incontinent, but weird things can happen during pregnancy so I got up and headed to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet and more gush, but I wasn’t peeing. This was a strange sensation to me because I have never before had waters break before the onset of labor. I watched some fluid trickle into the toilet and got back into bed, not yet willing to admit what was happening. I shifted slightly and more gush. My initial reaction was, “Not now, not today. Not like this.” However, I didn’t have much of a choice, did I? This was something I had better come to terms with, and fast.

My first call was to Forrest, who was working for some friends in El Dorado Hills and was supposed to be home in a couple of hours. He kind of laughed when I told him, and asked what I wanted him to do. I told him to stay and finish up at work and that I’d see him later. I was having no contractions. Next I called the midwives, which was very brief. I told them water was clear and there were no contractions. Lastly I headed downstairs and debriefed the kids on what was happening. I said we’d probably have a baby tonight, and their faces lit up with excitement. My thoughts, however, were on getting the house clean, so I enlisted them all. We began sweeping, vacuuming, de-cluttering, cleaning bedrooms, and washing dishes. Thankfully, despite my permission to continue working, Forrest came home early and was able to help delegate tasks. I told him this was very helpful, and he responded by saying, “I knew you needed me here.”

I went to bed at 11:30 but was unable to sleep. I awoke around 2:30 a.m., wrote in my diary, and read a book for about an hour. I still had no contractions, but plenty of insomnia. I felt like I should be doing something to get this labor going. It was torturous to lie in bed knowing that water was leaking away from my baby and there were no signs of labor on the horizon.

I awoke feeling refreshed and decided I was going to shower, put make-up on, and have a good day. Oh, and have a baby. We were on a timetable now. I did start passing some mucous, which I took for a good sign that there were at least some cervical changes going on. I called the midwives and told them that I felt like I should be doing something to get labor going. They said yes, and recommended I go to the health food store and get some black cohosh for ripening the cervix and a bottle of castor oil to have on hand just in case. We did a few more chores around the house, made some tea, and headed out around 10:30, kids in tow. The health food store was out of black cohosh, but I was able to get the castor oil. I texted the midwives and asked them what the dosage was, and they told me to come down for a non-stress test. I was having some concerns, mainly stemming from my knowledge of the 24-hour period and pressure from my family, and I knew I would feel better talking them out. We arrived at the midwives’ around 12:30, and I was greeted by three smiling faces and three big hugs. They all looked so happy and treated me like I was going to have my baby today. Why were they so confident when I was not? They took my temperature, listened to baby’s heartbeat, and checked for responsiveness by shaking a loud rattle near my stomach and gauging heart tone variations, all of which were good. It was very reassuring to me to hear his heartbeat and see his responsiveness. Once again, I knew that all was well. They gave me their bottle of black cohosh, a bottle of a homeopathic spray called Birth Ease, and a little envelope of homeopathic tablets to put in my water. They left me with more hugs and affirmations of, “We’ll see you tonight.”

After that we headed to Trader Joe’s to stock up on some snacky foods and a few staples. I went in alone while Forrest stayed in the car with the kids. It was a delicate act pushing the cart around and trying to contain the steady flow that came out of me onto the pad I was wearing. I didn’t need any embarrassments in the grocery store. I got what we needed, then checked out. I heard a guy in the line next to me talking about how his wife was 37 weeks pregnant and “ready to go.” I chuckled inside at my own little secret.

I had been taking dropperfuls of the cohosh and sprays of the Birth Ease since we left the midwives’, and continued to do so on the way home. We texted family to let them know where we were in the process, but had decided not to take any more phone calls. I am sure their intentions were good, but it was not the kind of energy we wanted in our space at that time. We were keeping our thoughts positive and optimistic, and were not in a place to entertain threats or concerns. We knew that we would be led to make the right decisions for our little Anthony.

It was understood that if there were no signs of change by 6:00p.m., I would take the castor oil. This was the 24 hour mark from when my waters had released. 5:00 rolled around, and I think it was about this time that I had a little breakdown. Forrest came up in the bedroom and I began crying. I did not trust that my body would go into labor on its own at 38 weeks, and if what we were waiting for were signs of infection before going to the hospital, by then it would be too late. I did not want to walk through that door with an infected baby. If only I knew he would be okay. If only I could see into that little window. That is when he asked it. “Do you trust the midwives? They promise they are coming over tonight and you will have your baby.” Somewhere inside me those words resonated peace, yet I still doubted. I could not settle the dis-ease within me.

Finally at 7:00 we broke down and cracked the seal on the castor oil. It was an 8 oz. bottle, and my instructions were to mix 2 oz. in a cup of yogurt. I gave the job to Forrest. “Hmm, so that’s a quarter of a cup,” he said. I tried to convince him that there were 16 oz. in a cup, and that there was no way he was going to pour a quarter cup of that into my yogurt. We went back and forth until I finally walked out of the kitchen and left him to ration it out on his own. He promised he wouldn’t be liberal. I took my little cup of strawberry yogurt and sat out on the lawn with Noah. Spoonful by spoonful, I let the slippery, viscous substance sink into my body. I watched the sky and tried to keep positive thoughts. This will bring my baby.

I came inside and saw that it was 7:20p.m. I should know in the next 20 minutes whether this would come heaving back up or not. It seemed to settle okay, and about an hour later the only change I noticed was a little rumbling in my tummy. We put the kids down at 9:00p.m. with promises that we would wake them up when baby Anthony was going to be born. I prayed I would not wake up to them in the morning without a baby. In the back of my mind I had pretty much decided that if we did wake up in the morning, it would be to go to the hospital. We were at the tail end of our timetable.

Now the house was quiet, and I decided I was going to lay down on the couch and get into my “place.” Between 9:15 and 9:30, I noticed that first crampy contraction. A few minutes later, another one. Then another. Okay, good. I recognized these to be the onset of labor, and had just the assurance I needed to fall asleep. Certainly these would continue through the night, and I would wake up when I needed to. Around 10:30 Forrest turned off the T.V., dimmed the lights, and pulled out his sleeping bag. My contractions went from restful, to toe wiggling, to squirmy. This got Forrest’s attention, and he asked if I was okay. Yes, I was. I listened to the ticking of our living room clock and counted through each contraction. They were all about 60 seconds, so I knew if I made it to 30 that was the peak, and then they would subside. This was my mantra and seemed to be working quite well. However, then the unexpected happened. Shortly after 11:00 I had 3 contractions that piggy-backed one another without a break in between. The sudden intensity of this ripped me off the couch and onto the floor on hands and knees, emptying the contents of my stomach. I had never thrown up in labor before, and I didn’t know if this was due to the intensity or the castor oil. Either way, I knew we were in full swing now. Forrest had gotten up and turned on the lights. I felt bad that he didn’t get the chance to sleep. I headed upstairs to the bathroom and checked my cervix, deciding that there was no way I was going to wait another 24 hours now and that it would be safe to do so. To my dismay, my cervix still felt back and high and only about 3 or so centimeters. I needed to reset my mind to the fact that with broken waters, this might just be a more intense labor and that I needed to be in it for the long haul.

Forrest called the midwives and said, “Lisa just threw up, contractions are pretty intense.” They said they were on their way and would be there in 45 minutes. This surprised me because they usually wait until things are further along. In hindsight, I am grateful they listened to their intuition. We walked around the kitchen and living room, working together through the contractions one at a time. They were so close together, sometimes only 30 seconds to two minutes apart. At one point I thought, “I simply can not go through the night at this intensity.” It was near midnight.

I decided I needed to sit down on the couch and get into a zone. Forrest sat next to me. I closed my eyes and used a different tactic for each contraction. Sometimes it was slow, relaxed breathing, other times it was deep, intense breathing. At one point I even took a deep inhalation and held it, and the contraction went away. I knew this was intense, but believed I could have a while to go. I had felt shaky all along, but attributed it to the window being opened and a chilly night. Looking back, I realize this was my transition. It was all too fast for me to process. Somewhere my contractions progressed down my body and I found myself throwing my head back and making those deep noises from within my throat that I know only to be sounds of pushing. My pants were on, no midwives in sight, and I was pushing. There was nothing I was going to do to stop it. In between contractions I told Forrest, “Call the midwives and tell them I need to push.”

He got up from the couch, lifted the blinds briefly, and announced, “They’re here.”

They walked quietly through the door in the midst of another contraction, and I prayed they would recognize I needed them now. Randi came over and listened to the baby’s heartbeat, and between the next contractions Marlene stood me up and got my pants off. They swiftly placed a table cloth and chux pads over the couch and repositioned me so that I was lying lengthwise. I asked if we should get the kids up, and Forrest said no. Marlene said, “Do you want them to see the birth? Then you’d better.” Kaleem walked quietly upstairs and brought down Ashlee, Jacob and Noah, while Kaitlyn and Rachel slept. They all took their seats on the surrounding couches and I opened my eyes briefly to see their sleepy, smiling faces. One push, nothing. Next push and a head emerged. There was a moment of confusion and I heard Kaleems words:

“Just keep smiling.”

Marlene looked at me a little worried and I sensed that something was wrong. I looked down and saw a very white head resting on the chux pad. I thought there might be a cord around the neck. What had really happened was that he had come out “in the caul,” or surrounded by the bag of waters, and the membranes were concealing his face. I didn’t even wait for the next contraction before pushing the rest of his body out while Marlene swiftly slipped a finger under the membranes and lifted them off of his face. She placed my sweet, slippery baby on my stomach and we all rejoiced in his first bleating. It wasn’t really a cry, just a sweet gurgly noise that let us all know he was okay. 12:42 a.m. Kaleem told me it had been 8 minutes since they walked through the door.

I had my own personal rejoicing in knowing that this would be the last time I would ever be required to go through so challenging a task. The end of the chapter. I immediately saw that he looked like Noah, and sensed that he was a sweet spirit. He has proven to be very mild, and has yet to cry. He came 2 weeks early, but it was just the right time. At 8 lbs. 1 oz. and 21” long, he’s as healthy a baby as he could be. As for me, I learned a valuable lesson in trust. I did say a prayer earlier that night that if a decision needed to be made, we would know when to make that call, and I received an image of myself saying later in the night, “He’s here,” followed by a feeling of peace. That was my reassurance that he was coming and that we would not need to go to the hospital. I trust my midwives, I trust my body, I trust my baby, I trust God, I trust my husband, and I trust birth. If only I could’ve seen that three hour window in which I would bring my baby into the world, I would’ve been spared all the grief and fear. However, I needed to walk by faith, not by sight. I am so thankful for all the faith and forces that came together to make Anthony’s birth happen when and how it did. I know the midwives are inspired, I know God was watching over me and my baby, I know He is aware of my family and our special needs. I know there is wisdom in my body and it intuitively knew what it was doing all along. I was the one who needed to trust. He’s here, he’s whole, and perfect in every way. Our family is complete.