Ella's birth photos, Part 2

All photos courtesy of Amanda at A.R.T. Photography.  Check out her beautiful website or visit the Facebook page.

Ella's birth photos, Part 1

*All photos courtesy of Amanda at A.R.T. Photography.  Visit her website and her Facebook page for more examples of her gorgeous work.

after the birth story ends

Recently I've been thinking.   I have shared six birth stories with you over the years.  These stories are important to me, and powerful.   They remind me of the journey we've taken, the way my husband and  I have chosen to bring our children into the world.  They represent a certain rite of passage, and I have read them again and again.  They're not perfect by any means, but they are ours.

And yet, they're only part of the picture of what happens in our home on the day of a birth.  So for those who are curious, I've decided to share with you what happens after the birth story ends.  After the baby arrives, and we see who the Lord has sent to our family.  After we sing the special lullaby with our baby's name.  Without further ado, here's a look at what happens - next.

Nursing the wee one.  Usually this starts pretty soon after the baby is born, often while still in the birth tub.  The earlier the better, it seems to me.  Of course, I did have one baby who essentially yelled at us until I thought to offer him the breast.  I suppose such a thing colors one's perspective. Baby needs nourishment...

Daddy cuts the cord.   We prefer to wait until after the cord stops pulsing for that cut.  Then my husband takes the scissors and does the deed.  He's done it for each and every birth, it's sort of a tradition.

Birthing the placenta.   This is always a slightly annoying process for me, but it's never been too dramatic. The baby is handed off to Daddy, and I get to work with my midwife.  I often have to shift positions and try for a while to get the thing out.  Ella's birth was different, though - I think that placenta was born in record time! (A thousand yays!) I was even prepared this time around with clary sage essential oil, but there was no need for it.  The kids have enjoyed getting to see the placenta which nourished the baby for so many months.  Our second son still talks about how he got to touch it after Gabriel was born.  I don't know much about who studied or touched it this time, and we don't do anything special with it.   I take no issue with those who do, we just haven't bothered.

(Edit: Michele my doula tells me that she did indeed apply clary sage before the placenta was born.  Apparently I was too over-the-moon happy to notice!)

The Egyptian princess routine.  This is my nickname for the process which takes place when I get out of the tub.  Two women help me to stand up, while a third stands ready with a big towel.  They take off my wet clothes, dry me off, make sure I don't feel wobbly (I never do!) and fetch me something to wear.  I always feel like an Egyptian princess climbing out of the Nile, or maybe even a milk bath: pampered and well-attended.  After I'm enveloped in a big fluffy robe, my chux pad and I make our way to the bed, which is a mere few feet away.

The mama exam.  Slightly awkward but necessary.  'Nough said.

The baby exam.  This is much more fun, at least from my perspective.  While I recline on my pillow, dry and happy, I watch my baby get weighed, measured, and checked for a half a million things, from how soft (bendy) his or her ears are to those prized Apgar scores.  They check baby's reflexes and take measurements.  The little one doesn't always enjoy this process, but the ladies have enough experience and tenderness that the process is still fun to watch.  Then the baby is diapered and dressed (my midwife loves to do this personally) and given back to Mama, if I'm lucky.  If not, s/he makes the rounds to be photographed by and with Grandma, Grandpa, Daddy, and the siblings.

I am fed.  Labor makes this mama hungry!  Usually it's scrambled eggs and toast, though all through this last labor I was envisioning a lovely grilled cheese sandwich made with this gluten-free flatbread. I got my heart's desire, and it was absolutely delicious...but I was still hungry, so my doula brought me some warm potato soup.  Lovely and filling!

The kids get acquainted. There is oohing and aahing, holding and kissing.  It's a sweet, sweet time.  And then the kids go to bed.

Everyone goes home. I am given a set of instructions: things to look out for, when to call with concerns, etc.  Then, assuming I have already used the toilet (an important part of the recovery process!), everyone goes home.  Well...everyone except for my wonderful in-laws, who stay the night to wrangle the older kids and help feed us the next day.  They're fantastic, really - but I don't want to make you jealous, so I won't go into all they do for us during that time.  Let's just say, we are very blessed!


That's it.  We snuggle into bed and go to sleep, thankful and exhausted.

And if we're very, very lucky, the baby sleeps too.

*All photos are courtesy of Amanda at A.R.T. Photography.  Please visit her website for more gorgeous examples of her work. HERE is a link to her Facebook page.  More birth photos to come!

the boy who made me a mama

Happy Birthday to my Benjamin, the boy who made me a mama.  It's hard to believe that he is 11 years old today, and yet he shows us more responsibility and consideration every day.  We are so thankful for this boy, and we thank God for him every single day!

If you'd like to read Ben's birth story, click HERE. 

Top 10 6 Reasons the Baby Can Stay Put (a bit longer)

So...in an effort to present a balanced perspective and all, I thought I'd offer my Top 10 Reasons the Baby Can Stay Put.   Sadly I was unable to come up with a full 10, so we shall have to make do with six.  Still, I think my six are fairly compelling.


Top 10 6 Reasons the Baby Can Stay Put (a bit longer)

1)  I still need to clean my refrigerator.
'Nough said.

2)  I enjoy sleep.
Really.  And while there is something sweet and bonding about those dimly-lit nursing sessions, those moments snuggling in the rocking chair...well, sleep is just lovely.  You understand, right?

3)  I'm going to this scarf exchange...
...and it's going to be a lot of fun, and I don't want to miss it.

4)  There are no prepared meals in the freezer.
It pains me to admit this.   Generally at this point in a pregnancy, I have at least, at the very least, four or five meals in the freezer, usually more. But this time?  Nothing.  Oh, I have a lot of grass-fed beef and some pastured chickens, among other things.  I mean, we have food.  But prepared meals?  Nada.  Truly I think it's mostly because with this diet I'm kind of struggling with finding meals that (1) I can eat, (2) freeze well, and (3) my family enjoys.  But I'll think of something.  Besides, I may lighten up the restrictions a bit for those first few weeks postpartum, so we'll see.  Or maybe I'll just freeze a bunch of things that my family can have, and then for myself I'll scramble an egg or something...

5) I'm re-reading my beloved Ina May's Guide to Childbirth...
...and it would be good to finish before the baby comes.  Just in case I've gotten rusty in the past two years, or this birth throws me some surprises.

6)  It's best for everyone if the baby is truly ready.
Maybe it sounds trite, but I believe that it's best to wait until the baby is ready.  Did you know that research suggests that the baby's brain sends out a signal when the time comes for it to be born?  I suspect that it aids in the labor process as well.  After, it seems that if the baby is ready, the mama's body is likely to be "ripe" as well.


There you have it, my 10 6 reasons.  We'll see what happens.  With my track record (all my babies have arrived well past their due dates), I'm not holding my breath for an early arrival...

Owen's Birth Story

In honor of my sweet son's 5th birthday, I thought I'd post the account of his birth.  All of my babies have been born well past their estimated due dates, but with Owen it was by far the longest.  Still, he was well worth the wait!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owen Daniel's Birth Story
March 8, 2008

On Thursday, March 6, I was feeling very emotional and overwhelmed
because I was so ready to meet my baby, and he hadn't been ready to come
yet. That afternoon I had a prenatal appointment with my midwife.
Everything looked beautiful with the baby. After a short discussion I
decided to have her sweep my membranes. It was uncomfortable and a
little painful, but not too bad Eventually appointment ended, and
throughout the evening I had a bit of cramping and spotting (expected
after having membranes swept).

The next day was pretty quiet and normal. I continued to have a slight
amount of spotting from the procedure the day before. Late that
afternoon my husband and I enjoyed some adult time while our two boys
watched a video downstairs. As soon as we were done, I started having
crampy contractions, about every 3-7 minutes apart. These continued
through the evening. My husband and I watched a movie, and I kept timing
them all the way through. About 9pm I looked at my husband and said "I
think we'll be calling Esme [our midwife] tonight!" We had planned a
home waterbirth, so my husband pulled out the tub and got things prepared. We
had previously had several false alarms, so we wanted to be absolutely
sure before we called for the birth team to come to the house.

We decided to go upstairs and try to sleep, but the contractions were
getting stronger now, and between that and the excitement, we both
realized that we would not be sleeping any time soon. We went back
downstairs and sat on the couch. I had heard about how kissing can help
with relaxation and dilation during labor, so we sat on the couch and
started to kiss. After smooching through several contraction, I felt a
strange sensation in my belly. My husband had been touching my belly,
and he felt it too. It didn't occur to me what it was until I felt a
small spurt of wet warmth between my legs, a minute or so later. I said
"I think that might have been my water breaking! It did feel like a kind
of ‘pop'!" This was about 10:20pm. We called the midwife to let her know
what was going on, and she said it sounded like it was early, and left
it to us to call when we wanted the birth team to come. About 25 minutes
later, I had been sitting on my birthing ball, and when I started to
stand up, I felt a trickle down both my legs...and then there was the
undeniable sound of fluid dribbling onto the floor beneath me. Then we
knew, this was really it!

My husband started filling the birthing tub. I was walking around,
getting things ready and checking email. When a contraction would come,
I would find something (kitchen counter, dining room table, my husband)
to lean on. It helped to brace myself and lean with my forearms on a
firm surface. Around 11pm we decided to call and have the birth team
come. The birth team included my midwife Esme as well as two midwife
apprentices, Rebecca and Tarrin. We also called my in-laws, who were
coming to help out and be responsible for our two older boys. We told
everyone it was not urgent yet, but that they should start heading our way.

Everyone arrived at about the same time, around 12:30am. I was still
able to smile & laugh, but during contractions I would find someplace to
lean and concentrate on breathing through the rushes.

My in-laws went upstairs to try to get some sleep, and the birth team
stayed in the background, letting us do our own thing (which worked so
well for us in my previous labor) and coming to check baby's heartrate
regularly.

Around 1am I got in the birthing tub. The warm water felt great, and the
pain of the contractions was lessened a lot after I got settled. After a
while my husband got in, too, and we experimented with different
positions. Pretty soon things started to get much more intense. We tried
kissing through some of the contractions, and that really did help for a
while. I tried to focus on relaxing my whole body, and taking deep
breaths helped me to do that. Another tactic for this labor was making
low, moaning sounds. I think that helped to loosen things up "down
under" and also it gave me something to concentrate on.

The next few hours are a little blurry in my memory. The contractions
got really intense, and we both were feeling so tired. I sat leaning
back against my husband's chest, and we would just be really quiet in
between contractions. My poor husband kept drifting off to sleep, and
his chin would bonk me on the head, at which point he would say "Oh, I'm
so sorry!" That was actually pretty funny, he was so remorseful.

I was starting to feel like it was getting hard to handle the
contractions. Then there came a contraction that felt a little
different. I wasn't positive, but I thought "Was I just feeling a little
pushy there?" And without my mentioning it out loud, my husband asked
"Did you just get the urge to push?" I told him that I thought I had,
but I wasn't sure. He called for Esme to come, and I asked to be
checked. I had not been checked before I started pushing during my
previous labor, but for some reason this time I wanted the confirmation
of being complete. Rebecca checked me and said that she couldn't feel my
cervix at all, and the baby's head was "right there." Whenever I felt
ready, it was okay to push.

So I got up on my knees, leaned on the edge of the tub, and got started.
Right away I remembered how much I detest pushing! And this time it
seemed really intense and scary to me. I had torn with both my other
labors, and I just felt sure that I was going to tear again. Still, I
tried to take it easy and listen to my body. I had always wondered if I
just pushed with too much gusto those other times, and that if I had
taken it a little more slowly and let the tissues stretch, it might have
been better.

My dear husband kept saying "Push to the point of comfort, push as long
as it's comfortable." This is something that we had learned in a Bradley Method childbirth class we'd taken during my first pregnancy. It really bothered me, although for a while I couldn't find the words or energy to say anything to him. Finally I said, with my teeth gritted a bit, "I wish you'd stop talking about it being comfortable." There was nothing comfortable about this pushing business!

The last few pushes were really scary for me. I could feel the baby moving down, and I could feel him crowning, or almost crowning-- that might be more accurate. Then I would run out of steam, or courage, or contraction, and the head would scootch back a bit. I knew this was normal but I really, really wanted to be finished pushing! Finally after two contractions like that, I managed to just pant after the contraction ended, and the head stayed forward. The next time I pushed, my husband said the head was starting to come out, so I bore down, gave it all I had, and at 4:08am, with one savage holler, my son was born!

His dad caught him, the birth team helped me turn over so I could meet him. My dear, sweet husband handed him to me, and we sat close as we sang the lullaby we have sung all of our babies in the moments after their births. The first stanza goes,

"Baby boy fusses, baby boy laughs
The Angel who watches says 'Hey, look at that,'
There's your faith, the mountains will shake
'Cause God gladly bends just to hear baby boy when he prays..."
(adapted from a song Rich Mullins wrote for a girl named Madeline)

The Birth Story of Gabriel William

Waiting has always been a part of late pregnancy for me. In letting my little ones choose their own birthdates, I have to give up a large measure of control. And so, as we anticipated when the baby might be born into our arms, we wondered and waited...and waited.

On Thursday evening, at 40 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I had fallen on the driveway in front of my house, and hurt myself. My right wrist was painfully sprained, and I also ended up with an injured right foot and raw, bruised knee. Thankfully, the fall didn't harm my baby at all. However, it did leave me somewhat crippled - even if temporarily. I wasn't able to do very much in the following few days, but I was blessed by a loving outpouring of help and care from my family and church.

Early Sunday morning found me awake with uncomfortable contractions. This had been fairly common during the last few weeks, so although I was weary from the early waking, I resolved to not pay too much attention. I continued to have somewhat regular contractions throughout the morning. "Somewhat regular contractions" had been a pretty frequent occurrence for me during this last month or so - although they generally began in the afternoon or evening. So while morning contractions were a tad unusual, they didn't illicit much notice from me. Happily, my wrist was improving, and my foot was nearly back to normal.

I had a little time to rest after church, and I took advantage of it. During lunch, I began to notice the contractions had a different tinge to them. The dance of practice labor versus early labor had been particularly challenging as I prepared for this, my fifth journey of childbirth. How much to pay attention? How much to time things? And I'd been trying not to get my hopes up day after day.

But these felt different. And even though I had felt distinctions and changes over the past few weeks, something about the contractions on Sunday struck a chord of remembrance for me. They felt way stronger: gripping, even. These definitely got my attention.

After a few hours of this, Jeff and I had a pretty good idea that this was It. Although the contractions varied between 8 and 12 minutes, they were the kind I needed to breathe through. Around 3:00 pm we called my midwife, Katherine. I didn't think there was any reason for her to come yet, but I wanted to give her the news that we thought the day had come at last. Together she and I decided to touch base a little later. We also called Jeff's parents, who live across the city and were planning to come tend to the other kids during the birth. "Don't come yet," we said. "But start getting things in order. We'll call you in an hour or so." After an hour, we called and asked them to head on over. I wanted the kids to be well cared for, so I could have Jeff's full attention and support.

But then things started to slow down. I was still having contractions, but they were spacing out a bit. I decided to go upstairs to my bedroom. (Jeff's parents arrived after I went up there.) I felt like being away from distractions as much as possible, and in my bedroom I paced, trying to keep things going. I also began to pray. "Dear Lord, please help these contractions to keep coming. Please, please let this be the day. Please, may we have our baby safely in our arms tonight...."

I also spoke to my baby. I coaxed him, cajoled him. I told him we were ready for him, and that I hoped he would decide to come that night. I said just about everything I could think of to convince him that it would be a good day to be born.

Another thing I did was speak phrases like "I just want to open up and let my baby out." This idea was inspired by Ina May Gaskin's book Ina May's Guide to Childbirth. Other "Ina May ideas" we used, both in this labor and others, are kissing through contractions, words of affirmation, and mental imagery. And they say that what got the baby in, gets the baby out...

I spoke to Katherine again at 5:50. I told her things weren't really speeding up, and I didn't think she needed to come to our home yet. While we were on the phone, I had another contraction. When it was finished, she said "Well, that's definitely a real contraction. You are definitely in labor." We decided I'd check back in about an hour, unless I needed to sooner. I felt so much better when I got off of the phone with her! It was exactly what I needed to hear.

Finally, after trying various labor-spurring tactics, and mere minutes after I got off the phone with Katherine, things began to move faster. What had been 12 to 15 minutes apart, became 4 to 5. Jeff and I danced through a few more contractions, and then I said, "I think we ought to go ahead and ask Katherine to head over..." It had only been 20 or 30 minutes since I had spoken to her, but active labor had definitely begun. Jeff made the phone call, and soon the birth team was on its way. We started filling the big tub in our bathroom, while I breathed in the scent of my lavender candle and listened to the labor songs I'd chosen.

After they arrived, my midwife checked my blood pressure, pulse, and the baby's heartbeat. She found that I was about 5 1/2 cm dilated, and when she asked "So when do you want to get into the tub?" my answer was "As soon as possible!" So that's what I did; I think it was around 7pm.

As always, the tub was a wonderful change. The warm water felt so good, and really did ease the pain of the contractions. As I reclined in the tub, Jeff was with me nearly every moment. I also had some new members of my labor support team: our two oldest sons. Ben and Kyle spent a lot of time by my side while I was in the tub. In my memory, they were rarely there together, but one of them was present most every moment. Kyle stroked my shoulder. Benjamin brushed the hair off my forehead. Once I'm sure I heard my son whispering in harmony with his father, "You're doing so great, just keep relaxing, let the baby come..." It touched me in a way I have never known before.

I felt strangely self-aware during this part of my labor. I tend to be fairly self-aware anyway, I think (in childbirth, that is), but I found myself with thoughts like: I'm not feeling pushy yet, but I think I will be very soon. I feel like I'm almost open all the way... Once again, I used low tones to help me relax and breathe through the labor pains. "Ohhhh.....ahhhhh..."

About nine o'clock, in between contractions, I felt my water break. It was shortly after that (about 9:08 by the records) that I began to push. My first push was a tentative effort, to see if it felt right. Evidently it did, because I kept going.

In all of my children's birth stories, I have mentioned the fact that I hate pushing. It is always scary and intense for me. This birth was no exception, and I felt a little out of control at times. I yelled, I forgot to keep my vocal tones low. I...just...wanted...it...to...be...over. My two younger children were in their beds at this point, but Ben and Kyle were there, and they told me later that they went into the nearby closet to escape the onslaught of noise. I don't blame them. It was intense.

Thankfully, though, the pushing stage didn't last more than 5 minutes - just like my most recent labor. Unlike that time, however, when the baby's head was born, the rest of his body didn't immediately follow. The contraction ended, and I heard my husband say that the head was out. Katherine told him to check whether there was any cord around the baby's neck, and there wasn't. After a bit more discussion, I decided to go ahead and push again, instead of waiting for another labor pain. I gave it my all, and with loud cry, I pushed my child forth completely.

His father caught him in the water and placed him in my arms. Together we discovered that God had seen fit to bless us with another son!

And then, surrounded by people who love him, our new little boy was serenaded with our family's signature lullaby, personalized just for him.

"Gabriel fusses, Gabriel laughs

The angel who watches says

'Hey, look at that!'

There's your faith, the mountains will shake

'Cause God gladly bends just to hear Gabriel when he prays..."

(Written by Rich Mullins, for a girl named Madeline)