Minerva's Birth Story

From the beginning of this pregnancy, I had a feeling that this delivery would be very different from my other ones. At 35 weeks, after several weeks of study, debate and prayer, we made the decision to switch to home birth, due largely to the pandemic and the impact it was having on local hospitals. Once the transfer was made, I assumed that was the big change I had felt was coming. Little did I know, it was just the beginning.

Because I had gestational diabetes, I was seeing a Maternal Fetal Medicine doctor throughout my pregnancy. I managed my glucose well, and every test, scan and measurement came back perfectly. At 34 weeks I asked the head perinatologist to sign off on my pregnancy going as long as 41 weeks, provided it continued to look healthy, which she did. I was confident I would have my baby by then, but also felt that if she didn’t come on her own, that it would be sensible to induce then.

I established care with a trusted midwife, and continued care with my hospital CNM group. My due date came and went. I wasn’t too surprised, until I found myself a couple days away from my induction date, and feeling pressured to deliver soon, or else forfeit the home birth I had planned and prepared for, in lieu of an induction that I felt was safer in some ways, but far less ideal.

So my plan shifted from “she’ll come when she’s ready” to “try all the things, and if she doesn’t come, we’ll induce.” We set aside an entire day for it. It started with a visit to the chiropractor, then a labor stimulation massage, and then a kid-free date. We ate ice cream, walked around, took a nap in a park, and finished with a trip to Fizz. I felt so relaxed; it was exactly what I needed for my mental wellness. We picked up the kids and some take out and went home. We put the kids to bed, and I put some Clary Sage on my belly, sat on the ball and watched a movie while I began to pump.

After 10 minutes on the pump, I felt some contractions. I alternated 15 minutes of pumping with 15 minutes of walking, rocking and squatting. After two sessions like this, my baby punched hard, and I felt a small pop inside, but didn’t want to get my hopes up. On the way to the bathroom, I had some water drip to the floor. I emptied my bladder and walked back to the ball. The next time I stood up, a bunch of water trickled out and I knew-- my water had broken! (10:22 pm) I shouted out in excitement, and then cried in relief. In the past, once my water broke, my baby had been born very quickly. So I alerted my entire birth team that it was go time, and began to prepare for my approaching birth.

My team quietly and excitedly arrived, one by one: two midwives (one acting as my doula), an assistant, my sibling doula, photographer, mom, and then my daughter. Zoey was so excited, and changed into her doula shirt, grabbed her Rebozo and was ready for action. Her little face, filled with anticipation made me so happy.

I did my best not to play hostess, but it was so hard, having my living room full of people and not feeding them or worrying about any mess left over from the day, or finding everyone somewhere comfy to sit. I soon noticed my contractions had spaced far out, and I thought about Watched Pot syndrome. So I moved into the kitchen to eat a snack and sit on my ball, and see if contractions would pick back up again. But they didn’t.

I wasn’t too worried, but figured I was putting too much pressure on myself to perform. I decided to go upstairs after awhile and pump again to get things rolling. I was sure once a good labor pattern was established things would all click into place and off we’d go.

Just 5 minutes into pumping, contractions were back to every 3 minutes and strong, so I got up and walked, alternating belly lifts, rocking and just swaying. I had some back labor, but didn’t feel like she was posterior. My lower back had always hurt after being on my feet much lately. After another hour like this though, contractions began to space back out. The midwife suggested that I rest while I could, and though I was afraid it would stop my labor completely, I knew it was a good idea to conserve my energy for active labor.

Gavin and I laid down and turned off the lights, and before I knew it I was dozing off… and my contractions went away completely. I kept myself centered, reminding myself to trust my body, because it knew what it was doing, and that I was not the one in control here.

After a couple hours I felt restless to get things moving, and got up again. I got a snack, chatted with my midwife, and a few contractions came and went, while everyone else slept on the couches or the floor. It was dark and quiet, and I liked that. I had creeping doubts, but did my best to keep a calm, clear mind, and to trust in this process, confident that everything would happen in its own time and way.

Before I knew it, the sun was coming up. I continued to alternate movement and rest, with contractions coming stronger with time, but no more consistent. I was waiting and waiting for an active labor pattern to emerge, and it didn’t seem to be coming. My cervix was checked here and there and was steadily progressing, which surprised me, because I didn’t feel like active labor had even begun yet, and my baby was still high, at a -2 station.

The kids woke up and Gavin fed them breakfast and sent them to kind neighbors who had agreed to watch them. The day wore on and I began to feel more and more discouraged, thinking I must be doing something wrong, or it wouldn’t be going this way. I labored in the bath tub for awhile, and pumped as I labored. Gavin snoozed between contractions and gave counter pressure each time I needed it. I felt a dull, strong pain in the left side of my pelvis with each contraction and began to suspect she was in a weird position. Her back was all over my belly, but never posterior. I got out of the tub and said I needed to be alone with Gavin. He gave me a blessing. As soon as he laid his hands on my head I began to sob, as all my fears, frustrations and doubts bubbled to the surface. I was reassured that I was doing everything right, that I needed to continue to try different things and be patient, and that Mini was feeling reluctant. A burden was lifted from my shoulders and I felt a new wave of calm and trust in this process and in my body.

We took a tincture the midwife had that was designed to strengthen contractions, and did some inversions and Rebozo sifting to encourage a better position. She wiggled around and settled back into my pelvis. It felt better, and then as I contracted, I would feel her slide back into that spot in my pelvis. As contractions began to space out again, my midwife suggested doing some deep squats to try and get them going again, and it worked! It was very intense, but every 4 minutes, I’d squat all the way down to the floor, while she lifted my belly and Gavin squeezed my hips. Every 3-4 contractions came on their own. I felt myself beginning to get tired, and became desperate for a strawberry milkshake. My mom went right out the door to find one. It was around 4 pm. I was dilated to about an 8, but certainly didn’t feel like it. Contractions, though strong, were short and very sporadic: 5, then 10, then 15 minutes apart.

My mom came back with the milkshake and it gave me a spurt of energy and a refreshed awake feeling. I was soon nearly complete, with just a cervical rim all around. But my baby was still high, and confirmed asynclitic, as my midwife reached in and felt an ear. She suggested that I bear down while she attempted to rotate the baby’s head, so she could help me push past the cervical lip. The cervix was extremely soft and stretchy, but after every push, she would slide right back up.

I changed positions multiple times, trying to push her lower, but nothing worked. The pain was becoming excruciating, as I pushed bone against bone, and my midwife tried to help the baby’s position. I began to cry out in protest with each contraction; it wasn’t working.

Then the midwife expressed her concern that my uterus was becoming fatigued and that my risk of postpartum hemorrhage was increasing. As though waiting for someone else to say it, others began to chime in, that yes, I should probably go to the hospital. I felt totally shocked and a little betrayed by this suggestion. I hadn’t even considered uterine fatigue, and had only focused on my baby’s signals, which had all been well (no meconium or decels at all). I began to image what a hospital transfer would entail, and felt all my plans begin to slip through my fingers. I opened my eyes to see Zoey’s face, with tears in her eyes, pleading with me to try again. I knew I had it in me, but felt so incredibly alone, as I tried to make sense out of what they were telling me, and what I felt in my heart.

Finally, my mom cut in. She said my name, and asked me what I wanted. Without hesitation, I said I needed rest. I wanted to gather up my strength to give it one last try. And my team respected me, and I rolled onto my left side and immediately dozed off. After 10 minutes or so, a contraction came, strong and painful. Several minutes later, another one, this time, for the first time, I felt the urge to bear down, just at the peak. A third contraction came, and I wanted to push. My midwife asked me to roll onto my back and bring up my knees to shorten the birth canal. It was the last position I wanted to be in, but I was ready to do anything to get my baby out then. As I felt pressure mounting, I grabbed my legs and bore down with all my might. I rallied every bit of strength, determination and stubbornness I had left in me, and pushed for everything I was worth. My midwife began to shout that it was working! She could see her hair! Afraid she’d slide back up again, I drew another breath and pushed again with all my might. With that, her head emerged. One more push brought her shoulders out, before they could even rotate, and the room erupted into sobbing cheers. I reached own and took my baby into my arms and brought her to my chest. (7:22 pm) She cried out loudly, then blinked and looked around at us all. Triumph and relief washed over me. I did it. Despite every obstacle and every doubt, I did it.

After a couple minutes, the placenta released and emerged. My midwife pushed on my uterus and a giant gush of blood poured out of me, followed by another. My team quickly got to work and stopped the bleeding, using Pitocin, Methergine and Cytotec. My mind was momentarily afraid of the rushing of blood, but in my heart I felt trust in my team and peace that everything was well. Things soon calmed down and I looked down at my baby (who had significant molding on the right side of her head) and soaked her in. Zoey came over and cut the cord, and we celebrated and cried and sat in awe and amazement at what we had all just experienced.

Minerva was examined and weighed-- 7 perfect pounds of sweet baby girl-- and gradually, everyone took their leave and went home.

I’ve since had a lot of time to reflect on this birth, and although it’s nothing like I imagined it would be, it was incredibly powerful, unique, and beautiful in its own right. As my midwife put it, I was thrown curve ball after curve ball, and I knocked every one of them out of the park. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I am proud of what I accomplished.

Truly, every birth is a unique journey. My journey took me to the brinks of hell and back, and I have emerged with a new sense of empowerment, and a deepened respect for birth and those who undertake it.



Photos: Courtesy of Yellow Kite Lifestyle Photography
yellowkitephoto.com

Quinley's Birth Story

Quinley Rei Reed
Born Saturday, December 2, 2017 at 7:34 pm
7 lbs 12 oz, 19" long

The morning of my due date, I woke up to a few hard contractions. Although I had been having some decent practice labor off and on for the previous week or two, this felt different. They were low and sharp, and very uncomfortable. I laid in bed for a while, paying attention to how they felt, and decided that today might just be the day. I went about my day as usual, and took pause here and there to breathe through a contraction. Although they were becoming increasingly painful, they were very short. Sometime in the afternoon I decided to start timing them and discovered that they were very irregular: sometimes 6 or 7 minutes apart, sometimes 15 or more, but never consistent. Because I was showing signs of malposition, I decided to begin doing some exercises and stretches (from spinningbabies.com) to encourage a more favorable position. I knew she was head down with her back anterior and off to my right, but I began to suspect she may have been asynclitic or had a hand or arm up on her head, irritating my uterus. By using inversions and rebozo sifting, I was able to dislodge her from my pelvis. But every time, she would slide right back into her favorite spot, and the painful, irregular contractions would resume. By evening I was exhausted and a bit put off, not knowing exactly what was going on or what I should do. I was able to calm things down enough to get some sleep, by doing some deep stretches, so I went to bed around 3.

The next morning began the way the previous one had: I was awoken by the same uncomfortable, arrhythmic contractions. I called my midwife who encouraged me to go to the hospital to get checked out and determine the effect the contractions were having on my baby and cervix, and to see if we could determine what was causing the uterine irritability. I stayed in bed for a couple hours, noticing that while the contractions were fairly intense, they didn’t hurt. Once I got up and going, things gradually resumed the way they had been the previous day. Our home teacher came over around 1 pm and helped Gavin give me a priesthood blessing. My spirit and mind were calmed, knowing that we would be alright, and that the Lord had this whole thing in His hands.  After a few more hours went by I decided it was time to get the kids to a babysitter and head in to check things out. We packed up the car and headed to the hospital casually, figuring we would probably be given something to help me rest and be sent home. This visit would be mainly informational.

4:45 pm I walked into Labor and Delivery and told the nursing staff, “I’m not in active labor; I just need to get some things checked out.” They put me in a triage room, had me put on a gown, and put the baby on the monitor. The nurse filled in all the intake forms, pausing for me as I breathed through my contractions. When the paperwork was done she offered to do a cervical check and I consented. She paused and the said, “I’d call that a five or six. But you’re really stretchy. I could probably stretch you to an 8.” I was fully effaced and my amniotic sac was bulging. She said she could feel sutures and there didn’t seem to be a hand or arm up, but that she was afraid if she checked any more than that my water would break. She looked at me and said, “Let’s break your water and have a baby!”

I didn’t want my water broken, and was reluctant about being considered in labor, but right about then (probably due to the exam), my contractions began to pick up and become regular, and I began to accept that I really was about to give birth. At about 5:00 we were admitted and transferred to a labor room with a beautiful view of the temple, where I was put back on the monitor and given IV antibiotics to treat my group B strep. My blood sugar had also dropped to the 40s, and I was given D5 to help bring it back up.

Erica was on call. She is one of my favorite midwives. We discussed my wishes and hopes, and she was extremely supportive. As soon as my glucose was in a good range, I got out of bed, changed into my own clothes and began moving, swaying and breathing through each contraction. Gavin knew all the right things to do. He supported my weight, breathed with me and whispered words of encouragement and strength to me. He and my mom began using counter pressure, and I felt things quickly increase in intensity and contractions became stronger and closer together.

After about an hour and a half I was put back on the monitor to check on the baby. I asked about the bed’s positioning options and had a squat bar installed. I practiced sitting with it there for a few contractions, while Gavin and my mom pushed on my knees for counter pressure and felt good about it. Things quickly escalated and I no longer wanted to get on my feet. I began feeling the birth fog creep in, and I began to shake. I told Gavin I was beginning to show signs of transition. I asked to be checked and was dilated to an 8. Each contraction come on stronger than the last, and I became nauseated and hot. My fan was brought out and blown on my face for the remainder of my labor. A few short minutes later I told Erica I was beginning to feel pushy. She found I was dilated to an 8.5, but still very soft. With the next few contractions, I moved to a 9 and began to feel my body pushing.

The birth fog settled in in earnest and Gavin narrated to me what was going on in the room, telling me as they brought in the cart and quickly set up for delivery. The pain was becoming so intense I began to vocalize and shake uncontrollably. Erica told me I needed to change something about my position if I wanted to deliver this way because my pelvic opening wasn’t able to open all the way. I tucked my tailbone out from under me, grasping the squat bar and leaning forward into the contractions and instantly felt her head come down. I was complete, and the urge to bear down became uncontrollable. As my body began pushing I at first lost all control. But at the end of the first push I found how to work with it and brought her head down to the opening. With the next push I was crowning. It was overwhelming and so incredibly intense. With the third push I gave one long, hard push, almost involuntarily and her head was born and my water broke. I took a couple gasping breaths and was told to pause a moment before delivering her body, but I felt my body take over and I said “I can’t stop!” and with one great heave, I delivered her body. I felt an intense rush of relief and emotion as I reached out and took my baby immediately into my arms. There was a brief moment, when I opened my eyes and saw her for the first time that will be forever burned into my memory. She was here. She was chubby, and she had dark, beautiful hair. I held her to my body and wept with overwhelm and gratitude and relief.

Her backside was covered in a thick layer of vernix, and her umbilical cord had a true knot in it. I was examined and told that I had one small “skid mark” but that I didn’t need any sutures. I was surprised, given how fast and hard I had pushed, but so happy. When the cord finished pulsing, it was clamped and cut, and I snuggled my baby tightly against my chest, rubbing her back to help her breathe. She cried out and began to gain good color fairly quickly, and I cried and rested and cried.

Quinley was born at 7:34 pm, making my active labor a total of less than three hours, my shortest yet. It was incredibly intense, it was enjoyable and sacred and absolutely beautiful. The Spirit was strong in the room, and I think everyone there cried at least a little. I felt strong, capable, trusting and respected. I loved giving birth. It was so incredibly hard and at the end, so very painful, but the pain was briefly lived, and the satisfaction unending. I will always be proud of the way in which I gave birth that day. I have always had the impression that she wanted things done on her own time frame and in her own way and I am pleased that I was able to give that to her. She is beautiful and ancient and lovely. I feel that I have known and loved her for a very long time, and I am so grateful to finally have her here with me. My sweet little baby girl! She is everything I had hoped and prayed for and so much more.

(Photo credit: Sarah Roberts)

Focusing on breathing

 Counter pressure on my knees

Grandma Lisa getting ready to meet her 9th grandbaby

Gavin, keeping me grounded

My greatest source of strength, helping me keep my breathing under control

Back out of bed and back to work

Swaying together through the waves

Connecting with my baby

Drawing strength from Gavin

Breathing, opening, relaxing

Delving deep inside myself, but drawing strength from those around me

Joking about boxing, and gearing up for transition

My incredible birth team

My strength

The sheer power that overtook me

Swept along, surrendering to the power surging through me

7:34 pm, Quinley is born!

I reached out and received her into my arms

Sheer relief, exhilaration and exhaustion

And then the calm

The knot in my umbilical cord

Love

Pure joy

Ten perfect, tiny toes

Trusting grasp and an eternal bond