My second baby just turned one and I figured it's finally time to write up her birth story. It was one of the most surreal experiences of my life and I have not, until now, felt like I was in a place to adequately reflect and put it into words. Maybe that's more due to the chaos of having an infant and a toddler. This past year has been incredibly difficult in the best way.
I know full well what a touchy subject natural birth can be. If you've followed me on Instagram since I had my firstborn, then you know that I've experienced two very different birth stories as the first was a 42-hour-long ordeal that was traumatic and ended with a NICU stay. I remember reading posts like these and feeling a slight resentment that I was working hard to bury, because, after all, a healthy baby mattered most. However, birth can have an uncontrollable hold on our emotions (hello hormones) and it doesn't always feel that simple. I can't share a post with such a title without prefacing with this disclaimer.
As far as a birth "plan" goes, I prepared for months, afraid of being thrown into another long-winded, tailspin. I know it's common for people to go the home birth route, but upon taking these natural birthing courses and finding deeper education on physiological birth, I felt strongly that this was attainable in a hospital setting. Not to mention, home birth is... not cheap. I'm sure this is a conversation for another time, but something that doesn't sit well with me is the extreme idea that natural birth = pro-home birth/anti-hospital. I just don't think it's that simple or black and white (kind of my mindset on a lot of things, actually). So hopefully this will serve as some encouragement to anyone hopeful for a physiological hospital birth. Our medical system is far from perfect, but with a provider you trust and with whom you feel safe, it *can* be possible. Even with an idyllic situation, I allowed plenty of room for the unknowns. The key for me was having several "what if" scenarios planned, so that I didn't feel like I was completely out of the loop and winging it if a health-related issue arose during labor. In a nutshell, my preparation consisted of knowledge (SO much more than I had the first time), an ideal birth scenario, several "what if" birth scenarios, knowing my options, having my husband/birth partner completely in the know of all of this, and open/honest/unfiltered (but kind) communication with my Doctor, nurses, and mid-wife.
This photo was taken just before the transition from early to active labor. WHEW
Now, for the story of how Frankie legitimately barreled into our lives of the evening of Sept. 30th, 2022. It goes without saying that I was pregnant, but I was pregnant, if you know what I mean. Belly like a boulder, recovering from prenatal anemia and iron transfusions, pitting edema in my legs, ankles and feet, so much pain and discomfort... etc. so I had already been taking things very slowly at this point. I was truly soaking up every last, slow, quiet (and/or chaotic) one-on-one moment with my oldest and just allowing myself to wait in peace, with as little stress as possible. On the morning of Sept. 30th, I started feeling really light contractions. I didn't let myself think much of it, because of my prior 42 hour ordeal that was partially due to intense prodromal labor (if you know, you know). I stayed present with my toddler, bags packed, ready for anything. It was a slow few hours of those light but consistent contractions, and I knew I needed to get in all the rest that I could rather than busying myself. Around noon, things had suddenly picked up. Again, denying it to avoid the fear cycle, I went on about my day until the pain became significant enough to use breath work. I decided to lay down and shut my eyes, thinking it could possibly be my last chance to charge up before labor. I drifted in and out between contractions - which were maybe five to seven minutes apart, and this went on for a couple of hours. Around 2pm, things REALLY picked up. For the next hour, I was leaning on walls, rocking and swaying, sitting on my yoga ball, still staying in the mindset that it might not be active labor, The intensity was undeniable but I was holding strong to that calm mindset, not letting the fear of my past labor get the best of me. Chris was out getting lunch at the time and I was texting him, "3-5 minutes apart, kind of intense but I'm sure this will go on for awhile so don't rush". Famous last words. By the time he arrived, maybe 30 minutes later, my contractions were consistently no more than 2-3 minutes apart, and much more intense. When he walked in the door, it hit me, it's time to GO. I shoved my tuna sandwich in my mouth as quickly as I could in between contractions, although I was really looking forward to enjoying it. After finishing my lunch, he loaded our bags into the car as I knelt over the yoga ball working through more painfully real contractions. Through my breath pauses, I cried and hugged my firstborn. I thought I'd get a longer goodbye, but there was no time for that. I was feeling a mix of emotions that I still can hardly explain. I know mothers of 2+ will understand this.
Moment/pictures I'll cherish forever, I was so glad she wanted to be near me
4pm: rush hour! With our daunting 45 minute drive ahead, "I should have admitted my labor progression earlier! I shouldn't have pushed it off." Twenty minutes into our drive, I was no longer able to keep myself still. I was involuntarily arching off of the seat, telling Chris that I felt like my body was going to start pushing whether I wanted it to or not. Cue fear, what I had been avoiding this whole time. I somehow was able to hush it a little and stay focused, but in the back of my mind I thought, "IF we make it in time, I'm getting an epidural." Insert laughing emoji. I had to pause for the entirety of my contraction at the check-in desk, holding my finger in the air while reassuring myself - "I'm safe. We will make it. It's gonna be ok." At this point in the process, you don't go straight to a L&D room unless you are actively giving birth, so to pre-labor we went to check dilatation, baby's vitals... etc. I got a few steps down the hallway, did a few spins, looking for anyone who could help. I landed on a nurse in another room with her door open. "I'm gonna puke", as my voice quivered. The second she handed me a bag, my entire tuna sandwich came up in several rounds. My nurse ran down the hallway for me, fully understanding that I was transitioning. She called my midwife straight down to us so we could meet and brush up on birth expectations as they prepared to take me to my room, she was so lovely and I was really thankful for this time. The nurse was doing her cervical check while we talked - 8 cm dilated, Chris encouraged me and told me what a great job I was doing. I was somehow relieved at the reassurance that I followed my contractions well and knew when to take them seriously. Maybe a little too lax, but still. At this point, my water hadn't broken but it didn't even cross my mind. The amount of times I had to stop while walking to the room was almost comical. Five steps forward, 90 second contraction. Rinse and repeat. In my head, this was all a quick process but Chris still reassures me that it was quite drawn out, and that I was just off in "labor land". From the check-in desk to the delivery room, it took about an hour. I insisted on walking because I couldn't bare the thought of sitting. My body wanted to be upright. As we got settled in the room, waiting for the midwife to finish attending another patient, the nurse got my catheter placed. I opted to have it placed but not hooked up to the IV drip unless our circumstances deemed it was absolutely necessary. As soon as it was placed, I couldn't help but get on all fours. "You're feeling pushy, aren't you?". I nodded as our nurse rushed out to find my midwife.
Had to crop this photo awkwardly because I had no other clothes on being so close to pushing, but it's one of my favorites
We waited for about 15-20 minutes, which felt like an eternity and I was convinced that Chris may deliver this baby. Finally, our midwife with nurses in tow. Quickly throwing her gown and gloves on, she checked one final time. At this point I was 10 centimeters dilated, but my water had yet to break. With one quick motion, she broke my water and it was time to start pushing!
"Do you prefer one position over another?"
I mean, I did, but in this moment, no. I was overwhelmed and looking to her to guide me a little. This is where a humble balance of natural birth knowledge and trust in your care providers comes into play. I couldn't have been more thankful for her. She asked me if I wanted to look in the mirror as Frankie's head emerged two contractions in. I said something along the lines of "I don't care!!" and everyone laughed. I truly experienced the whole "breathe your baby down" thing and wow, it was incredible. My body no longer felt like mine, I was breathing while my body and Frankie were doing all the work. A few more contractions, and on the final one, I was so deep in concentration that Chris had to help me realize that my midwife needed me to slow down. I snap back to.
"She looks just like you, babe."
Her face was out. I was in shock, convinced I'd be pushing much longer. My midwife guided her shoulders and had me reach down. A mere 10 minutes of pushing, and I was touching my baby. I couldn't believe it - she was here.
Frances Joy Alaways, born at 6:45pm
7 lbs 11 oz, 21 in long
I should probably stop here, but I can't help but elaborate a little bit on the post birth experience. Those post-labor shakes were INTENSE. Coming off of labor without an epidural was the biggest adrenaline drop I've ever felt in my life. I ended up losing a lot of blood, so periodic pushing on my uterus was needed to confirm the bleeding was slowing. That may have been more painful than my labor. After about 15 minutes of that right after the delivery, it was time for golden hour. An experience I had longed for in my pervious birth but wasn't possible as my firstborn was whisked away to the NICU. Having that special time was beyond anything I could have ever dreamt or imagined. The skin-to-skin, the "breast crawl", the oneness, the pause in time and all of our surroundings. Pure bliss.
I can feel how proud I was when I look at this one. Just happily snacking after giving birth and watching my baby get measurements taken
The following morning, we were practically kicked out since I had no tears or complications this time. We were thrilled to be discharged so quickly - by about 2pm. Arriving home with our baby less than 24 hours after birth was the polar opposite of what we'd experienced previously. I'm not sure how to explain it, but the moment Livi met Frankie, everything made sense. I knew there were unknowns and challenges ahead, navigating life with a newborn and an almost 2 1/2 year old, but really, in that moment - everything fell into place. I'm so thankful for this beautiful experience, and that I was able to finally write it down. Reliving it right now just fills me with peace.
