Unexpected Pregnancy and Unassisted Birth

Unexpected Pregnancy and Unassisted Birth

Unexpected Pregnancy and Unassisted Birth

This is a story about my experience with unassisted pregnancy and unassisted birth. But in order to do his story justice, I need to start months before he was even conceived.

Right after my 3rd son turned two, I became pregnant. We were overjoyed as we had always wanted 4 children. We choose to keep my pregnancies secret for the first 3 months and this time was no different.
Actually, it was different. I didn’t have morning sickness or first trimester fatigue. After being sick for 7 or 8 months with my previous two pregnancies, the healthy feeling was a welcome relief. I had spent the previous two years making big changes to improve my health and I guess it helped. I called the midwife and she had an opening and was excited to take me on. there was no midwife in the area for my previous pregnancy so I had no choice but to have an unassisted birth. I felt the baby move at about 9 weeks, around the same time as his or her older brothers. It was a surreal feeling to have no morning sickness. If it wasn’t for the movement I regularly felt, I wouldn’t have believed I was even expecting. I had a pattern of a miscarriage before healthy pregnancy with my first two and, when I conceived my third son, God told me to trust Him and I felt secure in the pregnancy. That was the first time I didn’t have a miscarriage. This time I felt like He was just telling me to wait on Him.

This time I felt like He was just telling me to wait on Him.

And wait I did. I believe my heart always knew that that baby wouldn’t be with us for a long time. Around 9.5 weeks I had a bit of spotting and it started to feel like a waiting game. I waited on Him and I waited to say goodbye. I miscarried the baby at almost 11 weeks. After my first two miscarriages, I conceived on the next cycle but this time was different. Cycle after cycle came and went with nothing. Apparently God wanted me to continue waiting. Eventually I made peace with the fact it could be God’s will for us to have 3 biological children instead of 4.

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    After 6 pregnancies conceived after 1 try, pregnancy number 7 was an unexpected surprise after 6 months of waiting. As excited as we were, I still had that surreal feeling. I called the midwife and she was unavailable during the time I was due so I had to start wrapping my head around another unassisted pregnancy and birth. I didn’t have morning sickness. I still hadn’t felt the baby move at 10 weeks. And then not at 11 weeks. I didn’t feel pregnant. Maybe I wasn’t really willing to believe I was, just in case. The midwife, who had become a friend, was able to get me booked in for an ultrasound, as per my request, which is something I hadn’t wanted for my previous pregnancies. At 12 weeks, the day before the ultrasound. I thought I may have felt the baby move. Thankfully the ultrasound technician confirmed what my husband already trusted to be true: we were going to have a baby!

    .I experienced only two weeks of morning sickness, from week 14 to 16. Though my uterus got huge (people commented how I must be excited for my Christmas baby and were shocked and embarrassed when I told them I was only 5.5 months) I didn’t have any water retention and didn’t feel like I gained as much weight as my previous children. (For the record, I did. I just carried it differently. I gained over 70lbs each pregnancy.)

    I hired a doula who I met when she and I both attended my friend’s birth. She seemed a bit unsure about an unassisted pregnancy and birth but, as she got to know me better, became more comfortable with the idea. We exchanged birth resources (I have quite a home library) and swapped pregnancy and birth advice. She came to pray for me and encourage me when I ended up in the hospital at 35 weeks. (This was for a non pregnancy related incident. You can read a bit more about this experience in a post I wrote about How to Deal With Anxiety.)

    I sent her a text a few weeks before my due date to let her know I had been having fairly strong pre labour contractions every evening for a week. I kept thinking, hoping, I would wake up to have a baby but they always stopped when I went to sleep. It was very similar to my first three experiences of prelabour: 3 days for my first, 5 days for my second, and 8 days for my third.

    The week after I had nothing. I hoped for an early birth because I get SPD (symphisis pubis dysfunctions is a separation of the pelvic bone due to the relaxin hormone that helps your body give birth) pretty bad near the end and spent most of my day sitting on my couch so I didn’t injure myself. After 5 days of no prelabour, I figured God wanted me to keep waiting. I made peace with the fact that it would be another two weeks before I could meet my baby and be done with the SPD pain. That was Thursday morning. My doula let me know she wanted to head to the city on Friday (a drive of more than 2 hours one way) and I joked with her about bringing back 3 or 4 Ikea bookcases for me.

    That evening I went to bed and snuggled with my 3 year old. I cherished his nighttime snuggles, knowing it was nearing his daddy’s turn to take over his night-time needs. He curled up around my belly and I breathed in the fresh scent of his dirt and grass infused hair.

    I woke up around 4:30am to go to the bathroom. (I don’t think I mentioned another symptom I didn’t have was a baby sitting on my bladder so nighttime potty breaks weren’t a regular occurance.) Our bathroom is down the stairs and on the other end of the house so, after traipsing through the cold house, I was very ready to crawl back into my nice warm bed. I was nearly asleep again when I got what felt like a contraction. I checked the clock (it was 5am) and started timing. 6 to 7 minutes apart. I started 2 minutes apart with my third son so I figured I had lots of time but, after 3 or 4 contractions, I realized I couldn’t sleep through them. Poked my husband and told him he wouldn’t be going to work because we were going to have a baby. He mumbled and I headed downstairs. I started my contraction timer app and noticed that walking downstairs had shortened the interval to 2 to 3 minutes. I shouted up the stairs to Adam to get the pool ready and sent a text to my doula. She didn’t respond so I waited until a contraction was done and called to let her know she should probably reschedule her trip to the city. It was pretty close to 6am at this point and she was getting up anyway and lives less than ten minutes away. She came in the door and was surprised by how far into active labour I already was.

    Adam was heating water on the stove and filling the pool. I was so concerned about the pool because it had a leak and I was convinced he hadn’t taped it up well enough. The hose also didn’t fit on our faucet so I was concerned about the water spraying all over the kitchen. My doula got right to work and held my hips and rubbed my back in a way that calmed me. We were joking around in between contractions and Adam was making fun of me for being so obsessed with the pool issue (that according to him wasn’t an issue at all).

    Jesse, the 3 year old, came down the stairs first. He was some great comedic relief as he jumped on the mini trampoline beside me like a bouncy little energizer bunny. I love how he asked why the pool was downstairs and we told him the baby was coming and he just went with the flow. Birth is not something that kids naturally fear. Caleb and Isaac, almost-9 and 6, came downstairs right after I got into the pool. They were so quiet but so excited to see me in the pool and knew that the baby would be out soon. I thought they were quietly excited anyway. Apparently they were making fun of the noises I was making. (I’m a pretty vocal birther). Jesse was holding my cup of water and made sure to offer it every time I looked up at him. My doula was holding my hand. Adam was telling the boys to be more polite and keeping track of the water temperature and level.

    So that is what the rest of them were up to while I did my thing. I am always surprised by how coherent I am, even during the final stages of labour. I laboured in the pool for a while and gave myself pep talks about how I could do this and to breathe the baby down in between contractions. During contractions I would say, out loud so everyone could hear, about how it wasn’t working and that I just wanted to be done and that I was taking too long and things didn’t seem to be progressing.

    During pushing contractions my inner pep talks all but stopped as I tried to figure out why the baby wasn’t out yet and why it was taking so long. I quickly discovered the baby wasn’t in a good birthing position and I went from hands and knees to upright on my knees. He immediately went from being pushed backwards to going forwards and crowning . I told them all I didn’t know what way he was going to go, behind me where someone else would have to catch him or forward where I could grab him.

    His head came out and I felt something very soft and squishy. During pregnancy I had thought he might be breech so I wondered if that was confirmation. Then I felt his eye and breathed a quick sigh of relief, knowing his head was out and the hardest push was done. It felt like ages until the next contraction came and his little body came sliding out into my waiting hands. He opened his eyes and looked straight at me the instant he was out of the water. He has been awake and moving all during labour and was totally ready to greet the world. I kept saying, “he’s MY baby!” The emphasis on “my” because he is the first of my sons that I see myself in. It felt like a little me looking back at me. He looked over my shoulder at his brothers and I said to Jesse, “he sees you.” My husband was in disbelief and asked, “it’s another boy?” That was when I realized I didnt actually know and should probably check. Sure enough, he was all boy.
    Since the day my husband and I started talking about having children, we wanted 4. I always said I would rather have 4 boys than 4 girls and, over the years, my heart grew more and more fond of the idea of 4 sons. With Asher, which means “happy” in Hebrew, I felt like my heart would burst with joy at my dream coming true. He is now over a month old and I still spend most of my day on the couch, snuggling a sleeping baby or starting into the eyes of a very attentive newborn. People have asked if I’m disappointed to have only sons. I tell them I couldn’t be more happy.

    Asher was born at 7:28am and was 7lbs and 18.5 inches long. What felt like a long labour was only about 2.5 hours with only 6 pushing contractions. I thank the Lord that everything went so smoothly!

    If you would like to read about my third son’s birth, it was my first unassisted pregnancy and unassisted birth and truly a spiritual birth experience

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    Normalizing Birth for Children

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    Normalizing Birth for Children

    My eldest son witnessed his first birth around 1.5 years old. He stood with his little rubber boots on the fence and held on to the cable and watched as the calf emerged, feet, then face, then a wet body slipping out onto the bedding pack. I’d like to say it was a beautiful and life changing moment for him, but it wasn’t. He didn’t think there was anything much special about it. He saw calves of various sizes every day and he must have just realized that the life of a calf has to start somehow. So when I told him that the mama cow was pushing a calf out of her body, he took it as a perfectly normal occurrence.

    Over the years, he (along with his brothers) has witnessed numerous births. Thanks to YouTube he has seen elephants, giraffes, horses, dolphins, and several others. Births he has witnessed live include numerous calves and kittens as well as the births of his younger brothers. Yes, you read that right: he witnessed the births of his brothers. And he will likely be present when our newest baby makes his or her appearance earth-side in a few weeks. (If you are interested, the story for the unassisted home water birth for my third son.)
    I have been asked by friends and care providers whether I was concerned about traumatizing my kids by having them at their siblings’ births. I explain that I do some prep work including talking about the process, reading stories about birth, and even watching birth videos online. Sometimes this convinces them that it’s “okay” for me to have my kids present (as if I need their permission) and other times they remain skeptical. Inwardly, I’m reminded of how warped most people’s opinions of birth are.

    Birthing a child is not a medical disorder or event any more than conceiving or carrying that child is.

    My eldest’s attitude toward birth hasn’t changed from the first time he witnessed it: it’s a normal process that has been happening since the beginning of time. Birthing a child is not a medical disorder or event any more than conceiving or carrying that child is. It’s a time that requires privacy, love, and intimacy, much the same as the event that created that new life in the first place.
    I believe that farm life has allowed our children recognize that birth is a natural process and not something to be feared or managed. Through farming research and experience, my husband knows that cows labour better if they are left to their own devices and we have a much lower intervention rate than on farms where farmers intervene or manage births within their herd. That was the number one reason why he shifted his mind on human birth (yes, he compared me to a cow, and no it wasn’t the first or last time).
    [bctt tweet="Women were designed to birth, and God doesn't make mistakes."]
    I enjoy research and statistics and all of the research shows that birthing is largely influenced by the mother’s mindset. Speaking from an evolutionary standpoint, women have been birthing since the beginning of time and, therefore, must be properly suited to such a task. From a God standpoint, women were designed to birth and God doesn’t make mistakes. While I’m grateful for the availability of medical intervention when necessary, most women don’t need it and their birth experience is only aggravated by it.
    This evening my eldest, nearly 9, asked me why his friend’s sister was born at a hospital and through surgery. I told him that was the mother’s choice based on the information she had received. He told me it seemed silly to need a hospital and surgery for something a simple as having a baby. I agree son. May you keep this peace and trust regarding birth when it comes time for your own wife to have your children.

    What are your thoughts and/or experiences with children attending birth? 

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    The Explosive Child

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    By Ross W. Greene, Ph. D.

    I didn’t even need to read the description of this book to know that it was one I needed to read. Since shortly after he was born, I have struggled to understand his communication style, love language, stressors etc. The first years of his life were filled with a lot of screaming and tears, on both of our parts. Things are much calmer now but there is still so much about this little boy that is still a mystery. So I read and analyze and practice and pray. And I take a lot of deep breaths.

    I felt that this book was largely targeted at people who have less attached styles of parenting than I do. There was a lot of talk about consistency and positive encouragement as opposed to degrading and punishing. Those are great tips but what’s a mom to do when she does all of those things and is still struggling? Many of the case studies were about children with disorders but some of the ideas were still beneficial to my relationship with my high need, intense son.

    Book notes:

    • these children have difficulty accessing their “hindsight file” and therefore are unable to access the information as to how they’ve handled similar problems in the past.
    • they are unskilled at recognizing the impact of their behavior on others
    • he and I need to take time to reflect on the accuracy of his interpretations, the effectiveness of a given response, or the manner in which his behavior affects others
    • provide cognitive roadmaps that help him stay rational in moment’ he is likely to become explosive (perhaps give advance warning that this situation is something that may be difficult to deal with so pre-plan a way to deal with it calmly)
    • we need him to look at us as people who can help him thing things through instead of as adversaries
    • he becomes disorganized in the midst of frustration
    • how does it feel to the child to be inflexibly explosive? (Probably frustrates him as much as it does me when he can’t maintain control)
    • flexibility and tolerance are skills that need to be learned – they come more easily to some than others
    • the consequence you administered on the back end following the last explosion must be accessible and meaningful to the child on the front end the next time he is becoming frustrated
    • kids need help accessing the file in their brain that contains the critical information or roadmap.
    • is a child resisting because he is not motivated enough of because he is incapable of maintaining the state of mind to walk through the pros and cons of compliance?
    • a disorder is how the problem may be presenting itself but it doesn’t always give indication of the precise difficulties your child is experiencing
    • in a vapour-lock situation, downshift slowly before going into reverse (otherwise you’ll blow out the transmission)
    • Basket A: important behaviors worth inducing and enduing a meltdown over: safety, things that could be harmful to your child, other people, animals, or property, and other non-negotiables. Teaches child that you are an authority figure. (Should initially be a very empty basket).
    • Basket B: Important matters but aren’t worth the meltdown. This is where you will teach your child the skills of flexibility and frustration tolerance. Most important basket. Teaches them how to engage in a give and take, staying calm in the midst of frustration, taking another person’s perspective, coming up with alternative ways to solve a problem. Tell your child, “If we disagree, I’ll let you know if I’m willing to work things out. We will try to think of good ideas.” Start with empathy to signal to your child that you understand what he wants and that you think it is a legitimate desire, and that you are his advocate rather than adversary. Then, “Let’s think of how we can work this out?”
    • Basket C: Unimportant behaviors that aren’t even worth saying anything about anymore. Eating a variety of foods, wearing mittens etc. It is different than giving in because you decide ahead of time to put it in basket C.
    • It becomes you, the parent, who is the primary determinant of whether or not he has a meltdown.
    • Phrases such as No, You must, or You can’t automatically puts it into basket A, so use very rarely.
    • The real world is a whole lot more about resolving disputes and disagreements than it is about blind adherence to authority. 
    • Sometimes basket decision making can be delayed. “I’m not yet sure if that’s negotiable or not.”
    • some children have trouble actually recognizing that they are frustrated or even experiencing things like hunger or fatigue that is leading the to frustration
    • Use rudimentary works for feelings: happy, sad, frustrated. At the end of the day ask “What made you happy? Sad? Frustrated?” Then start expanding to confused, disappointed, excited, bored, annoyed etc.
    • A child walking away our of frustration is a good comping mechanism. He doesn’t want to hurt you.
    • Keeping your child coherent in the midst of frustration is goal number one. A frustrated child needs help.
    • Why is this so hard for my child? What’s getting in his way? How can I help?
    • Sibling relations: each child needs help/attention in different areas.
    • don’t allow inaccurate inferences about each other get in between relationships.
    • Consequences not enforced detract from your credibility
    • vapour-lock commencing means “I’m stuck. I need help!”

    How We Chose Meaningful Boy Names

    How We Chose Meaningful Boy Names

    oct 27 14I don’t often (or maybe ever?) used my boys’ real names on my blog because I don’t need random passers-by to know all that information about my family. That being said,  I promised Sue from Stories of an Unschooling Family over a year ago that I would, one day, tell the story of how we came up with our children’s names. So here are those stories:

    C:
    Before I tell you about C’s name, I have to go back a bit to before I was pregnant with him. I was pregnant before him and my husband and I had for a girl and a boy name picked out within probably a week of conceiving: Rebecca or Jeremiah. Unfortunately, we lost that baby at about 8.5 weeks. There is no way to prove it but, in my heart, I know that we lost a little girl. So, the next time we conceived, I had a hard time thinking of a girl name. Adam figured that we could still use Rebecca but I just couldn’t agree. So we basically had one name that we agreed on: Jeremiah. We sort of added a few names to our list throughout the pregnancy but nothing concrete. We assumed the baby would be a boy named Jeremiah.

    I had C as a c-section so I didn’t get to hold him until my husband brought him into the room when he was about an hour old. I had been telling all of the nurses in recovery how I was so excited to hold my little Jeremiah. They all told me it was such a beautiful and unique name. Adam laid our tiny little (just under 7 lbs) boy in my arms and said to me, “Honey, I’m really sorry. He just doesn’t look like a Jeremiah.” I agreed. So now we had to scramble to find a name. Our name list was at home. The only name I could think of was Caleb. A name that I had added just a few days before and had planned to ask Adam about. It has a lot of meanings but the meaning that we chose for our son was “faithful.” And it suits him completely. He also carries on Adam’s Dad’s name as his middle name. Everyone was convinced Caleb was going to be a girl. It’s a good thing he wasn’t, we never did agree on a single girl’s name.

    oct 27 14 c

    Biscuit:

    With almost 3 years in between our boys, you would think we would had had lots of time to figure out some more names. Adam could still only think of Rebecca for a girl while I still felt like we already had our Rebecca as our first. We kept a list of names that each of us liked but truly couldn’t agree on any name. It was tough because everyone (including Adam) thought we were having a girl. I wasn’t convinced so, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t waste a lot of effort thinking of girl names.

    When he was born, we sat with our list of names and… debated. My friend who attended the birth couldn’t help but laugh at us as we tried to present our case for our particular picks, only to change our mind right when we had nearly convince the other person. We were so busy trying to figure out a name that we forgot to call my parents (who lived right across the yard and had probably figured out something was up by this point) to tell them they had another grandson. He was also my victorious home birth after my caesarean so there was a lot of joy and laughter.

    Isaac means “laughter,” or “he laughs.” The name felt rather unfitting for the first year with our high need son but, once we really started to get to know him, there is no better name. This kids has a gift for humour and the most contagious laugh in the world. It’s a perfect fit for him. He doesn’t have a middle name. We could barely agree on a first name so, true to my Dutch heritage, we chose not to give him one.

    Baby Bear:

    I can’t believe he’s over a year already. It feels like I was just recently sitting here writing blog posts while pregnant with him and imagining who this little person would turn out to be. I actually had a lot of fun making up a name list for him and it seemed that Adam was a lot more open to name options this time around. We had our perfect list of boy names and girl names. Once again, everyone was convinced it was a girl. Mostly because we had two boy so, statistically speaking, it should be a girl. I even had a week when God put it in my heart that I was going to have a girl and that I should mentally and emotionally prepare for that (I LOVE being a boy mom so the thought of a girl took some time to get used to). After that week, however, I was comfortable with birthing a daughter but truly still hoping and believing I was carrying another son.

    He was born at home and we read through our handy name list as I sat on the couch while he was a few hours old. Adam, Caleb, and Isaac all agreed that he should be called Noah. Adam nearly called the whole family to tell them that Noah had made his arrival. If I hadn’t just given birth, I would have jumped off the couch to snatch his phone from his hand. Instead, I yelled at him. Not a mean yell but I had to raise my voice to get over their excitement. Noah was NOT going to work for this boy. God had laid a different name on my heart for the previous couple of weeks that seemed to match this baby’s temperament more. Noah seems like the name of a Type 3 boy (according to The Child Whisperer’s typing system): determined, physical, forward push type of child. This baby was still, laid back, peaceful, and the whole pregnancy and birth felt like a gift from God. Jesse means gift. It took me about 45 minutes of convincing but all three of them started to wrap their heads around Jesse. Now we look at Jesse and know he could never have been a Noah. (He also doesn’t have a middle name, just in case you were wondering.)

    oct 27 14b

    Caleb. Isaac. Jesse. Not the names that we expected but perfectly fitting for our boys.

    Did your choose your children’s names because have a significant meaning? Did you know their names before they were born or did you choose a name to suit them after birth?

    Practical Mom Advice: Surviving the Motherhood Marathon

    Practical Mom Advice: Surviving the Motherhood Marathon

      I cringed when he put on his pants backwards. Normally I wouldn’t have said anything, but it was Sunday. So I gently asked him, “Your pants are on backwards. Can we turn them around?” “Sure,” he responded cheerfully. I hesitated. Was this a trick? Was he going to start screaming the instant I tried to turn his pants around? “May I help you?” I asked tentatively. “Sure!” Enthusiasm. I breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps this morning would remain peaceful after all.Practical Mom Advice: Surviving the Motherhood Marathon I managed to get all three children into their church clothes and I even managed to do my makeup in the bathroom (as opposed to in the vehicle). We were ready to go 15 minutes early. This is such a rare occurrence that the children thought it was time to get their shoes on a buckle in. My husband came in from morning chores and, instead having to help me finish getting children dressed and rushing out the door, he heard me urging the children to slow down. It really felt like they understood what was required and decided there was no use in resisting.

    There is a certain craziness in the motherhood marathon that is interspersed with peaceful moments. Read the rest of my guest post to find out what I learned this particular Sunday morning about Surviving the Motherhood Marathon at Thinking Outside the Sandbox.

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