Greta: A Birth Story

I have a daughter! 

It is a beautiful thing to give birth to your best friend…

The funny thing about giving birth is how your perception of it changes over time.  Greta's birth gets more and more beautiful, the further out I get from it.  To be honest, beautiful would have been the last word used to describe it in the hours and even couple of days afterwards.  It is a delight now to look at the pictures and remember back.

If you enjoy reading birth stories, I invite you to read on... 

Tuesday, September 27^th found me battling a stomach bug.  As usual, I was also having periodic bouts of contractions.  The combination made me wonder if I was in labor.  When my midwife came for my appointment that day (hurray for home visits), she confirmed that I was most likely just sick and not in labor.  I had little appetite and really wanted to be over this bug, so I just nibbled on bits of toast and a banana throughout the day.

Thankfully, I decided to get to bed early and was asleep by 9pm.  I awoke at 2am with my first contraction.  I get lots of contractions.  In fact, I started feeling them at 13 weeks and in that last month they would periodically wake me up at night.  So I didn't dwell too much on that contraction and drifted off to sleep only to be awoken 25 minutes later with another even stronger one.  At this point, my obsession with the “am I going into labor” game began in earnest.  When another strong one occurred 17 minutes later, I decided that it was probably the real thing.   I quickly determined that laying down in bed is NOT my preferred laboring position, so I ambled downstairs for a piece of toast and to try and figure out when to call my midwife, mom and sisters.  Since Treyton’s labor had been less than an hour long, timing was crucial.  No one wanted to miss the birth and the idea of an unassisted birth is not on our ‘want to try someday’ list.   The contractions started coming every 15 minutes so I called everyone by 3:30am. 

Over the next 2.5 hours contractions were manageable, but I definitely focused on relaxing through them.  My sister arrived with her camera in hand to chronicle the birth.  Turns out everyone had ample time to arrive this time around...

I was chatty and happy between contractions and calmly focused during them at this point.

Sue arrived and chatted with me for a bit to get a feel for how things were progressing.  I'm always amazed how in tune she was with me.  She checked fetal heart tones and then got everything set up for the birth before quietly slipping downstairs to rest and read until things picked up... 

I had very vivid memories of the painful trek up the stairs when I was in labor with Treyton.  Transition and trying to crawl up stairs leaves quite a memorable impression, let me tell ya.  But when contractions started to space back out to 15-20 minutes apart again while I was upstairs and not walking around, everyone convinced me to go for a walk.  I'm an outdoors kind of girl and I'm so thankful that I followed that advice, especially since it brought the contractions down to every 3-5 minutes...

Around 6am the boys woke up, giddy with excitement.  I talked with them when I wasn't busy focusing on a contraction.  They lounged around, but I was pacing.  It was agonizing to be 'trapped' sitting down during a contraction.  I wanted to be up, free.  I was pretty depressed that things weren't progressing quicker since we had just passed the 4 hour mark.  Was it ever going to end???

Finally, they intensify and I knew I was far enough along to get in the water.  The water is often called the midwives epidural and I was eager for something to take the edge off.  But if you get in too early, it can actually drag labor out so I had held out for a while...

At this point, I lost track of time.  I was relatively happy between contractions, but it took every bit of focus to stay relaxed when I felt a contraction starting to build.  With Treyton, I immediately went into the all fours position and weathered transition and pushing in that position.  I didn't want anyone touching me and made sure they knew it...  This time it was different.  I wanted Rich there.  I NEEDED Rich there for me.  Going on my knees was agonizing and I could feel shooting pain going down my legs.  It was weird to have to figure out this whole 'labor thing' all over again. 

It felt like I was in the pool forever, making no progress.  But in fact, it had been only an hour... It was now 7am.  In despair, I figured I should go to the bathroom before transition hits.  Little did I know that during the last contraction or two, my moaning had changed and the midwives were starting to mobilize.  Thinking I had another 7 minutes or so to get to the bathroom and back, I headed in.  Time between contractions apparently isn't the only indicator of where you are at in labor because transition hits in full force just moments later. 

The thought of returning to the birth pool seemed abhorrent to me.  In my mind, I kept telling myself that I loved the water, but every time I looked that way, I would shudder.  I don't want to be trapped.  I wanted to be free to move.  But I stayed fixed at the edge of the bathroom.

I hate transition.  I was getting pretty vocal and I felt wildly out of control.  Rich was amazing - my rock.  With only a bit of a breather between contractions, I made sure he stayed close.  In my head, I was having all kinds of crazy conversations with myself.  I'd convinced myself that this wasn't transition and I was going to be in agony forever.  When my midwife offered to check me, I quickly turned her down.  I couldn't bear the thought of bad news.  As another wave hit, I grabbed for Rich, desperately searching for a place to bury my head that will shield his poor ears.  hahaha.  I wish I were one of those women who labored peacefully, quietly.  But when I'm in transition it is not peaceful and it is not quiet.  Mercifully, this phase is always very short.

 

I love this man. 

I felt awful.  I pitifully moaned, "Why Eve?  Why did you eat the fruit?"  {Apparently this made Rich snicker.  I was oblivious.} While I heard myself announcing that I couldn't do this anymore, a voice inside of me assured me that it must be almost over if I'm saying that...  It's been about 10 minutes since I had exited the pool and transition hit.

 

Sure enough, it was time to push.  Suddenly the water looked inviting again.  I pushed and pushed and pushed.  It seemed more difficult this time around to get her out.  [In hindsight, we think she may have been in a less than optimal position.]  The midwives were so soothing and calmly encouraged me.  I love my midwives.

And then she's out.   While it felt like it was taking F.O.R.E.V.E.R, it only took 11 minutes of pushing.  It was 8:21, nearly 6.5 hours after the first contraction.
 
Immediately afterwards, I felt weak, very weak.  It was so strange because after Treyton came out, I instantly felt better.  Euphoria set in and after cuddling with my baby for a while, I hopped out of the pool and took a shower before settling into bed.  This time around, I was limp.  But she was perfect and in my arms.

I didn't realize until later that I was so weak because I hadn't eaten the day before.  Everyone stepped up to help me into bed and placed her in my arms.  I stared in amazement at my newest little treasure.  What will her personality be like?  I prayed that we will become best friends as I have with my own mother.  I thanked God for this beautiful gift.  {But I was still mad at Eve.}

Moments later, my boys and their cousins traipsed upstairs to meet Greta.

I soaked up the delighted and curious expressions on three little faces. 

 And we inspected our little girl.

Now that I've had almost 4 weeks to look back, I see that expectations really affected how I initially felt about the birth - both during and immediately afterwards.  While I know that every birth is different, I still somehow expected it to be like Treyton's - fast, furious and then over in the blink of an eye.  I realize now that a 6.5 hour labor is still considered short and that everything else with the birth was pretty textbook perfect.  While I wish I had prepared myself a little better, I'm also realizing the miraculous and beautiful part of birth.  I'm thankful that I was able to have her at home because that is where I feel most comfortable. {I never imagined myself the 'crazy' homebirth type, but it's turned out to be a great fit for me.} Options in childbirth are wonderful.  I am thankful that my mother was able to be with me as I gave birth to my first daughter. {She missed being there for Treyton's birth because she paused to make herself a cup of coffee and with my dad's cancer, I was afraid she wouldn't be here for Greta too...}  Both of my sisters were there.  I'm so thankful that Evie was able to watch the kids and then come up with them to see Greta so fresh out!   And in keeping with tradition, family collected that evening for a 'birth'-day party, complete with cake - a perfect cap to a busy, busy day!

While I certainly wish there was a pain-free, drug and intervention free way to give birth, she is SO INCREDIBLY worth it! 

It is pain with a prize at the end... And our family has been forever altered.