(This is the birth story I wrote the day after the birth and sent to family and friends.)
I know I shouldn't have had it in my head that I'd make it only to week 38, as I had with my last pregnancies, but I did it anyway. So, of course, my chosen date (July 8, based on gestation and moon phases, just for the fun of it) came and went. Then a somewhat rough week 39 managed to pass too. I was driving myself crazy looking for prelabor signs. Monday, July 10, it was a little bit of cramping and sleeplessness that made me wonder if that day would be it. Tuesday it was an awful bout of diarrhea. Wednesday I had some cramping with lots of clear mucous. Could mucous plugs be clear, I wondered? That evening I had heartburn, and again the next day. Then Saturday I had another sleepless, crampy, clear mucousy morning (from about 2am til 5 am) which spilled over into a miserable Saturday afternoon, which happened to be one of John's days off. He was scheduled to be off Sunday too and I'm sure was not looking forward to *another* day of putting up with crabby me. Fortunately I got my hormones in order by evening (maybe I was a little charmed by his cooking dinner), and we made plans to enjoy Sunday.
During this whole week, I obsessively checked my toilet paper for anything, some little sign-- I had lost my mucous plug only during my pregnancy with Alison, but had a premonition that the same thing would happen this time. Yet, Sunday, when I woke up, I decided to not check the toilet paper-- I somehow managed to go another night without having the baby and I was ready to stop obsessing. So, I tossed the toilet paper in, but something made me look at it after it was in the water. I noticed a little blood tinging and remarked, "Look!" to John, who had come into the room. He asked what I was doing as I fished the toilet paper out of the water. I threw it back down, then washed my hands and wiped again. Yes! Bloody show! I didn't have a steady supply; actually most times I wiped that day there was nothing, but by evening I had some cramping/ pressure and was pretty sure that that night our baby would be born. John put the contingency plan into effect at work (he is taking a week off to enjoy our expanding family), which meant he wasn't going in the next day (unless nothing happened, in which case he'd call to rearrange plans). I got Alex (4) and Alison (2) to bed between 8-9 pm, walked the dog with John and Briana, did some laundry, then went upstairs to get Briana in bed, read and lay down around 10:30pm. I probably drifted off around 11-- there was a nice breeze and John had lit several candles....
At about 12:50am, I noticed some contractions that I was still able to rest through, even though they were 2-3 minutes apart, and about 30-45 seconds long, I'm guessing-- we were informally using the digital clock next to the bed, since I didn't feel we really needed a thorough detailed description of the time and length; I was certain they were productive even if I wasn't counting them! A little after 1am, I realized I was going to have to rouse myself and go pee-- as I climbed out of bed John asked if anything was going on, to which I replied "Contractions." I handled one on the toilet, and he came in to check on me. We went back into our room, in the bed, where I began vocalizing through the contractions while I enjoyed the candles and the breeze, and having John near me. Well, except for the part where he asked, "Is one starting?" every time I took my deep breath as a contraction started! :-) Actually, he did this only twice-- and we made a joke about it between contractions. He got back up to go to the bathroom, asking if I needed anything, and I requested my birth ball, which I tried to squeeze into the corner next to my bed. I had a few contractions while he was in the bathroom; he came back just as I was moving the ball to the foot of my bed and arranging pillows for me to throw myself forward onto when contractions started. John woke Briana about this time, and she sat in the dark with me. At some point I requested that John scrub our bathtub out and rinse it well... a few contractions later I was climbing in as the tub filled and John lit a hurricane lamp. The water didn't feel like it was alleviating any sensations I was having, yet I stayed in... (I should note that the tub is an old enameled cast iron, larger than a standard sized tub-- I loved relaxing in it during my pregnancy, but during the labor, when I'd have preferred a "frog" position, it proved a little small. I had not intended to labor in the water, but would have an alternate tub available if it is something I'll consider again (and it is!)) John asked a few times if I was planning to get out; I think he wanted to move the video camera and supplies in, but I was misunderstanding, not to mention probably in transition and I took it as a suggestion to get out. I climbed out just before a contraction and hung from his neck, having him completely support me-- which was nice, but not as nice as the water. So, I climbed back in and added more hot water. Shortly after this I told John to get the cameras and he realized I was staying in; he immediately set the camcorder rolling, even though I wasn't sure I was that far along-- I was still waiting for my contractions to double peak. The next contraction I was insisting he wake the other two kids. Alison (2) immediately came running in and kissed my arm, (then stole a drink from my water bottle!), whereas Alex (4) was impossible to wake. The very next contraction started with my lying on my back in the tub, but caused me to get up and kneel very quickly; I complained that there was so much pressure, moaned a bit, then said, "Here it comes." I had planned to pant through this part-- while I don't believe I pushed, my uterus exerted an incredible force, something I realize I could never control. I tried to touch the head, but it was squishy-- I had been well aware that my water had not broken, yet I had to ask John if that was the baby's butt. He looked and said it was the sac. I moaned a bit more and tried to tear the sac, since baby's head was crowning, then told John that he would need to break it open for me. As he did, the body slid out and I pulled the baby up to my chest. As I sat back I noticed and announced that it was a baby boy, then started my googly talk and offered my breast as John covered our little purple guy. At no point, while he was purple, was I concerned about him; his breathing and cries were fine. We sat in the tub maybe 2 more minutes while John laid out a shower curtain and old blanket on the floor of our room, then he returned to help me out of the tub. Briana and Alison surrounded the baby and me, then I asked them to wake Alex. Alison was so adorable running out of the room yelling, "A-yah (her word for Alex), Baby Brother! Baby Brother!"
The placenta arrived a little after he joined us, maybe 10-15 minutes after the birth. I was very surprised to have a lot of pressure with this placenta; previously my doctors had asked me to push it out since it was right there and I was oblivious. It landed on the blanket; I'd forgotten to prepare the ice cream container we planned to put it in, so John grabbed it while putting the scissors and cord ties on to boil. Once they finished we tied the cord off and cut it-- Alex planned to help with this, and he tried, but our scissors weren't terribly sharp, so John took over. Then we decided to call our mothers (about 3:15 am). Shortly after I got off the phone with my mom, my sight started to darken and my hearing started becoming muffled. I asked John to stay in the room (I think he was on his way to clean something up), so he came back and asked what was wrong. He noticed my lips paling as I asked him what to do to prevent passing out, and he had me lay on my back on the floor and put my legs on his shoulders. Though I felt better right away, I lay there for a while-- actually I never really got back up until the kids were resting and I could bathe alone. We decided to start working on getting everyone back to sleep, quite a challenge after such an exhilarating event! Ali laid a pillow next to where I was laying on the floor and John climbed into our bed with Alex and Briana. Once Ali was asleep, I laid her on the bed next to John and passed little Elliot off to him so I could wash up and put some clothes on. Once I finished, around 5, Alex and Briana were still not asleep. I can't blame them-- I have to admit that I didn't go to bed until 10:30pm, my usual bedtime, never mind that I'd been up for about 22 hours since labor began! But it was a beautiful night of listening to Elliot's little sounds then being joined by Alex and Alison later in the night. They and Briana are such wonderful big siblings and the adjustment has been *very* smooth-- I couldn't ask for anything more!
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Stacey's unassisted childbirth page
