I am so pleased to announce that Reid Adams Puff joined our family on Tuesday, July 16th
at 3:10am, weighing 8lbs, 11.5oz, and 22 inches long.
Welcome to the world, Reid! |
To really tell Reid’s birth story, I have to backtrack a bit to Miles’ birth. When I was pregnant with Miles, we planned a birth at the new Auburn Birthing Center with the same wonderful and trusted midwife who had attended Norah’s birth. Unfortunately, I developed preeclampsia late in the game (40+3) and had to have a very unwanted induction at a hospital instead. When Miles was born, it was found that his cord was wrapped around his neck not once or twice (which would likely not have caused a single problem), but 4 times. Stephanie (our midwife) chalked up the preeclampsia diagnosis to the insanely wrapped up cord. I was unhappy about risking out of the birthing center and having to have an induction, but still really pleased with the way my care was handled and absolutely happy with the resulting baby.
We weren’t sure if Miles was going to be the last baby, or
if we wanted to have a third. Daniel
came from a family of 3 children and had always wanted 3 or 4. Before we got married I wasn’t even sure if I
wanted more than one. With Miles getting
close to a year old, some days I felt sure I was done with the ‘baby stage’ of
my life and wanted to be done, and some days I was more than ready to welcome
one last little one. If we did have one
more, we wanted to do so relatively soon and have a closer age gap than between
the first two, but that was about as far as we had gotten, planning wise.
Halloween of 2012 came and went, and I didn’t even realize I
had missed my period. I knew there was a
small chance that I could be pregnant, but since we had experienced pregnancy
losses before having Norah and it had taken longer than average to conceive
Miles, I had always figured our fertility wasn’t fabulous and didn’t really
think much of it – it was the first time since Miles was born there was any
chance at all I could be pregnant, and the chance was very small anyhow. In fact, I kind of forgot there was a chance
at all.
But during that week, nursing
Miles became very difficult. He
frequently became upset while nursing, would pull off and try again, and
generally didn’t seem to be happy with the amount of milk he was getting. The next week was the same. I was in the middle of a Paleo challenge
going on at our CrossFit box and started to wonder if the diet changes were
affecting my milk supply. I knew that
oats were good for milk production and that I usually ate a decent amount of
oats and had cut them out. I started
trying to think of what other possible things could be contributing to a milk
decline before I resorted to breaking the challenge to add oats back into my
diet, and it occurred to me that I could possibly be pregnant. The next morning at CrossFit I felt dizzy and
sick after my workout and thought that maybe I should take a test, just in case
– not at all thinking it would be positive (not really even realizing I was
already over a week late).
Sure enough, two pink lines immediately popped up. As it turned out, we were going to be a
family of 5 after all!
I chose the same midwife who had attended Norah and Miles’
births and was excited to find out that I was eligible to use the birthing
center with this birth, provided I did not develop preeclampsia again. Because I was concerned about preeclampsia
and my blood pressure (which started to climb shortly before the preeclampsia
episode), I spent the whole pregnancy trying anything that would help reduce
the risks of both. I ate the right
things, drank tons of water, took the right supplements, stayed active
(continuing with CrossFit through my 37th week), listened to
meditations, and put extra effort into making sure I was well rested.
Stephanie gave me a due date of 7/19/13 based on the first
visit ultrasound, but I felt it might be a bit earlier based on the date of my
last period and when I thought I had conceived.
I guessed that the baby would arrive between the 10th and the
15th of July, telling people I was due ‘mid-July’.
Around 30-32 weeks, my blood pressure began to rise, and I
became nervous. It was ‘high normal’ now
– not enough to risk me out of the birthing center quite yet. I further upped my already high protein
intake, began an additional essential oil supplement, and began to grapple with the
possibility of risking out again and having this baby at the hospital
instead. My wonderful doula Kristin*
helped me to weigh out the things that were really concerning to me and address
them. We started to plan ahead for ‘just
in case’ by reserving a birthing tub we could take into the hospital if we
needed to, thinking about care for Norah and Miles at the hospital instead of
the center, and generally just getting to a peaceful place with the idea of
another hospital birth. After all, we
would be at the best hospital in the area for having a natural
birth (14% C-section rate, people!), had already had two very positive births there, and would still have the
care of my midwife, no matter where we ended up. Plus the hospital had recently approved
waterbirth, so that was an option for me regardless of location.
*This lady drove around for 3 weeks with a rental tub in the back of her van "just in case". Srsly. If you need a good doula, you might want to give her a call.
Another month went by and my blood pressure went up again**. It was now borderline – if it went up any more at all I’d risk out. I started
eating protein every hour on the hour and added yet another supplement. Mentally I was taking it day by day thinking
about the impending birth, trying not to worry.
I felt at peace with knowing I had done everything in my power to reduce
any risk factors, and that no matter what happened I could honestly say I had
given it my all.
**Things I found out later: my mom and 2 of her 3 siblings all have blood pressure issues, my maternal grandmother has been on blood pressure medication for nearly 40 years, and my maternal grandfather was turned down when he tried to join the Army at age 18 due to high blood pressure. Oh, and my paternal grandfather died of a stroke. In retrospect, I'm kind of surprised my blood vessels didn't just explode at some point.
**Things I found out later: my mom and 2 of her 3 siblings all have blood pressure issues, my maternal grandmother has been on blood pressure medication for nearly 40 years, and my maternal grandfather was turned down when he tried to join the Army at age 18 due to high blood pressure. Oh, and my paternal grandfather died of a stroke. In retrospect, I'm kind of surprised my blood vessels didn't just explode at some point.
At my 37 week appointment, a quick listen to the baby with a Doppler revealed an odd sounding heartbeat. I was sent up to the hospital’s OB department
for monitoring for 4 hours, where it was determined we were hearing a heartbeat
arrhythmia – one more kink in my best laid plans. An ultrasound the following week thankfully
revealed that everything was perfect as far as baby’s heart. Stephanie assured me that cases like this
almost always resolved at birth, and that even if it didn’t, it would not
require emergency care right away. We
continued to plan for a birthing center birth, with our ‘just in case’ plan
also in place.
One thing that had made Miles’ birth difficult for me was
that it was a very fast labor and I had a hard time processing what was
happening to me as it happened. He was
born in 1hour and 40 minutes from the time of the first real contraction, and
feeling transition feelings less than an hour into labor scared me badly. I didn’t understand that the labor was moving
quickly and didn’t know how I would cope with such strong contractions for
several more hours. I simply didn’t
realize that I didn’t have several more hours to go.
This time around I knew that my labor could move quickly
again. I was unsure whether the
induction had made the labor fast or if it just was what it was. Stephanie said it could go either way, and
that I certainly could go fast again. In
my second trimester I asked her what to do if we didn’t make it to the center
before the baby was born. After all, we
lived almost an hour away depending on time of day and traffic. She said that as long as the baby was
breathing well and I was ok, we should simply call her and come meet her at the
birthing center. She mentioned that we
may not want to call 911 unless there was a medical problem, because we could have
difficulty getting released to come to the center.
On the 4th of July, Daniel and the kids and I
went to his brother’s house for dinner and then out to watch fireworks with our families. As we were waiting for fireworks
to begin, I started feeling very nauseous and sick. I went and sat in the car until the fireworks
were over, feeling miserable the entire time.
All the way home I had contractions every 10 minutes and felt
horrible. When we got home, I started
walking from the garage to the house and had to stop and throw up in the back
yard 4 times. That really helped with
the nausea, but the contractions picked up.
Daniel put the kids to bed and I got into the tub, laid on my side, and
got something to drink. I figured that
if it wasn’t really labor, this would put a stop to the contractions. I laid like that for an hour and a half,
having contractions every 5 minutes. I
called Kristin, my mom (who would come to watch Miles overnight for us), Sarah
(who would help watch Norah at the birthing center) and the OB department at
the hospital (how I was supposed to contact Stephanie). I told everyone that I thought this was it,
but was going to head to bed for now.
I laid down in bed and promptly fell asleep, not waking up
until 5am when Miles woke. Contractions
had stopped – it wasn’t the real thing.
From there on I experienced 1-2 hours of contractions every
night. Some nights they would be more
regular, some nights completely irregular.
I started to suspect that perhaps
the baby was positioned poorly because I could feel a lot of small movements on
one side of my belly and was having the stop and start contractions. I thought maybe he was facing sideways
instead of downwards and that was holding him up.
July 10 was a Wednesday, and every Wednesday I had a sitter
who would come in the morning for Norah and Miles while I took care of
errands. This particular Wednesday I
needed to stop into the grocery store for a few items. While I was there I felt the first contraction
in my back rather than just in my belly and wondered if this could be the start
of something. I got home, said goodbye
to the sitter, fed the kids lunch, and got Miles down for a nap. Finally, 2 hours later, I was able to pay
proper attention to the contractions.
During those 2 hours I had started to think the contractions seemed
regular and I should start timing them.
Once I I did start timing them, around 2pm, I found they were coming 3-4
minutes apart – and they HURT. Back
labor and all, I was convinced this was it.
I was having trouble coping with the pain without being on my hands and
knees –the only thing that seemed to help with the back pain. By 3:45 I called Dan and asked him to come
home from work, called my mom and asked her to come get my kids, called
Stephanie and said we were coming to the center, and called Kristin to have her
meet us at the center.
By the time we got to the center, the contractions had all
but stopped. Stephanie checked me and
found me at 2-3 cm, and I asked Daniel and my mom to take the kids to eat
dinner so I could have some privacy and try to ‘get back into myself’ to help
labor along. Kristin walked with me
awhile, and then I decided to walk alone for an hour or so. The contractions came back about 2-3 minutes
apart, but they lacked the intensity they had earlier. When Dan and my mom came back to the center,
they brought me something to eat. I went
back into the center to eat and the contractions pretty much stopped. I ate, sat on the birth ball, smelled some
essential oil (that did not smell so good, but was supposed to help labor
along), listened to my labor music, tried nipple stimulation…. Nothing. Around 9 I decided that I just wanted to go
home. Stephanie gave me one more check
and found me still at 2-3cm, which really confirmed the decision to go home for
me.
Here I am at the center with Stephanie. The only real picture of me 'in labor', though it had mostly stopped by then. |
The next day was a Thursday and I had an appointment
scheduled for the morning. I went in,
had an NST (which we were doing weekly now on account of the irregular
heartbeats) and saw one of the other midwives in the practice, Kori. Stephanie had 5 moms laboring upstairs at the
hospital and was consequently unavailable (obviously). Kori offered to give me a cervical exam and
membrane sweep. I told her that I wasn’t
particularly miserable or in a particular hurry to have the baby, and that I
wasn’t keen on the idea of going into labor when Stephanie had 5 other patients
in labor – BUT that I was also nervous about my blood pressure and didn’t want
to just sit back and wait to see if it all imploded or not. She advised against the membrane sweep and I
agreed. I asked her if she could tell if the baby was positioned poorly. She felt around and said she thought he was
probably posterior and gave me some suggestions for helping to move him. I contacted Kristin later that day and told
her what Kori had said, and she also had some suggestions for me, and helped me
to navigate the spinning babies website.
That night I had another hour or so of contractions that fizzled into
nothingness.
Friday was the same – contractions that started and stopped. At this point I had been having contractions
every night for over a week. I felt very
blerg about the whole thing.
Saturday came and I started to see bits of my mucus plug and
have cramping – but no contractions. I
was frankly starting to get annoyed by the whole ‘Am I In Labor Or Not?’
thing. Still being pregnant wasn’t
particularly a problem for me, although I was starting to have trouble caring
for the kids by myself all day and wasn’t sure how long it would be before I
really needed more help. The on and off
labor stuff was really working on me mentally, though. At this point I didn’t care whether I stayed
pregnant or not, I just wanted it to either stop for a few days and give me a
break or be the real thing.
Sunday arrived and we were supposed to go to Black Pine
Animal Preserve (in Albion, about 45 minutes away) with Sarah and her kids and
Nicole. I decided to stay close to home
since I was now seeing mucus plug, so we didn’t go. Sunday morning I started seeing bloody show
along with the mucus – but again, no contractions. I more or less decided to ignore my body for
awhile and mentally checked out of the ‘maybe labor’ game. Throughout the day I saw more blood, but had
no other labor signs.
I was hoping that I might go into labor on Sunday night, if
for no other reason than not having to go through another whole week of being
home alone with the kids during the day while being too pregnant to even reach
the floor any longer, in 90 degree weather.
We had been more or less trapped in the house for the past week, and it
was getting old fast. Sunday night came
and went, and when I got up to wake Dan for work Monday morning I was having
contractions. They came and went for the
next 2.5 hours, then just fizzled again.
I complained to my friend Jessica that we were stuck inside and she
offered to meet me at the mall. I met
her there and even bought the kids lunch in the food court because I just
couldn’t face the idea of making lunch while trying to manage them both. We walked around for a little while and set
the kids loose in the indoor playland, where Miles miraculously managed to stay
in the play area without running away to the Build-A-Bear next door, as per
usual.
We left the mall around 4 when the kids’ shelf life for the
mall was more or less expired and my body felt too tired to be out
anymore. Miles fell asleep in the car
and Norah spent some time drawing/coloring and watching PBS kids. Miles woke up around 5:15, completely unhappy
and inconsolable. He sometimes does this
after a nap where he just cries for an hour and there is nothing I can do to
make it stop. So I sat and held him as
best as I could, and I could tell he was frustrated at not being able to get
settled into my lap properly because, er, my lap had more or less ceased to
exist anymore.
Daniel called at 5:45 to
say he was still at work, which meant he would be home late. I asked him to come home NOW because Miles was still crying and I was starting to have
contractions again which were painful.
Finally he made it home around 6:15.
I felt too crappy to make dinner and he fed the kids
while I laid in the tub. While I was in
the tub, the contractions stopped. When
I got back out, they resumed. They were
painful and causing my back to hurt as well, but not happening in regular
intervals at all. I got out a rice
heating pad and kept it on my back, and that helped with the contractions, but
I still had to lean over or get on my hands and knees through each one. I talked to Kristin and told her what was
happening, that nothing regular was coming, but just in case….. blah blah blah…
the usual. Pretend labor, but to be safe
she should know. We got the kids to bed
late and sat down to watch a show on TV.
I made cookie dough and was really bizarrely emotional about getting the
cookies baked. I couldn’t keep getting
up to check on them because every time I did it caused one of those really bad
contractions, but I NEEDED those cookies baked.
Daniel baked them all for me but the first batch.
By this point, we were timing the contractions and they were
coming every 8 minutes. Nothing to write
home about. I continued watching the
show, sorted some clothes I was trying to sell, pinned some pieces for the
baby’s quilt, and generally kept myself busy. I called Kristin again to tell her how things
were going and she suggested that during a few contractions I should lift my
belly up as high as I could from underneath and hold it there – that might help
the baby turn. I got off the phone and
decided to try that through some contractions.
I was trying to do that, but also trying to be on my hands and knees,
and so it wasn’t working very well.
Around midnight the contractions were still coming 8 minutes
apart and I thought that if I went to bed they might go away. We decided to go to bed and laid down for
awhile. The contractions continued. Around 12:45 I stood up during a few contractions
and tried lifting my belly though them.
I felt what felt to me like the baby’s back turning from the side of my
belly to the middle of my belly – maybe he was getting into better position! The next two contractions came with no back
pain – relief! And then….. I just fell
asleep. Things stopped. I woke around 1:30 and had 2 contractions and
fell back to sleep again. They weren’t
particularly bad ones and I felt like resting.
At 2:14 I woke up to a contraction again. Once again, not particularly bad. I got up and went to the bathroom and laid
back down.
At 2:30 the mother of all contractions hit – back, belly,
EVERYWHERE. I know this sounds so
cliché, but with just that one contraction I knew we had to go, and we had to
go NOW. But at the same time I felt
rather ridiculous calling everyone based on that one contraction when they had
more or less stopped for over an hour and were never close together
earlier. I decided to wait for one more
contraction. Four minutes later I had
another one and that convinced me.
I
knew I needed to call my mom to come stay here while Miles slept, the hospital
to get ahold of Stephanie, Kristin, and Sarah.
The idea of calling anyone at all seemed too overwhelming. I wanted Daniel to do it, but he had no clue
as to what needed to be done, other than to get us in the car and move it. In the back of my mind it occurred to me that
it probably wasn’t a good sign that I didn’t feel like I could handle talking
on the phone, but there wasn’t really anything I could do about it, so I just
started calling people. First I called
mom (at 2:38am) and just said to come now because we were going.
Next I had to call the hospital. I called and got the OB department (2:40am) and asked
them to page Stephanie. They were asking
me what seemed like inane questions.
“How far apart are your contractions?”, and things like that. You know, totally reasonable things to be
asking when you are demanding to see a care provider at 2 in the morning. But my brain was like, “What do you mean, how
far apart are your contractions??!?! I
NEED MY MIDWIFE!!!!!! I AM HAVING A BABY
RIGHT NOW!!!!!” Apparently there is a
decent filter between my brain and my mouth because I somehow managed to
politely get a promise for a call back from Stephanie.
I started gathering up my things while I waited for the call
back. Daniel had pretty much packed
everything and was getting Norah up and to the bathroom so we could get her in
the car. Stephanie called back (2:46am) and
started asking those same inane questions.
She asked, “So, what’s going on?”
My brain: “THERE IS A
BABY COMING!! WHY THE HELL ELSE WOULD I
BE CALLING YOU AT 2 IN THE MORNING?!?!?!?!”
My mouth: “Uh, I had
some contractions today. I’m having the
baby tonight. I need to come.”
Stephanie: “How far apart are the contractions?”
My brain: “WHAT ARE YOU ASKING ME??!?! DON’T YOU KNOW I AM HAVING A BABY HERE?!?!?”
My mouth: “Uh, I don’t know.
Every few minutes. They are bad.”
Stephanie: “Ok, well when are you coming?”
My brain: “WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT???? RIGHT EFFING
NOW!!!!!”
My mouth: “Uh, when my mom gets here. I think it’ll take us an hour.”
In retrospect, Stephanie sure gave me the benefit of the
doubt there. I’m not sure my responses
really warranted much confidence.
I got off the phone with Stephanie and it occurred to me
that I still needed to call Kristin, and that I was also going to have another
contraction at some point and really didn’t want to do that on the phone. I waited
through one contraction and then called (3:02am). I honestly have no idea
what I even told Kristin. I dialed and
got ahold of her and at some point I started having a contraction and the
conversation just went to hell. I had to
sit down on the toilet and I couldn’t talk and tried shoving the phone in
Daniel’s hand without him even knowing who I was talking to.
I was vocalizing pretty loudly, Miles was
starting to cry in the next room, and the next thing I knew – POP! – my water
broke. I remember shouting, “There went
my water!!” and the next thing I knew I was on the floor and Daniel was trying
to get a skirt onto me, which seemed absolutely ridiculous at the time. I said, “What
are you doing?” and Daniel said, “You can’t just go with your bare ass hanging
out,” and I was like, “Why not? No one’s
going to care!” But he got the skirt on
anyhow and started helping me down the stairs to the car. (Bad sign #2 = driving down the highway naked from the waist down seems like a completely viable option.)
I was vaguely aware that I didn’t know where Norah or my
mother were, but I didn’t ask about them.
Instead I just held on to Daniel for dear life and tried to get down the
stairs, water leaking everywhere. All
the way down the stairs he kept yelling at me, “Stop pushing!” and I, not
really even aware that I was pushing, kept yelling back, “I can’t!”. Finally I said, “Stop yelling at me! I can’t help it! I don’t know what I’m doing!” I think it must have taken 30 years to get
down those stairs- that’s what it felt like, anyways. (Bad sign #3 = husband says that I'm pushing.)
At the bottom of the stairs Daniel asked me if I even wanted
to go. I looked at him like he was
insane. Of course we were going to the
birthing center. Duh. I was having the baby. At the birthing center. Obviously.
Didn’t he know that was the plan?
This was my first real indicator that we might not make it to the
center. I mean, there had been a few
other signs along the way, but this was the first time my brain really
acknowledged it. Daniel is not the type
to just hang out and watch his wife have the baby on the living room
floor. Maybe no one is, but especially
not him. Yet this seemed to be exactly
what he was proposing. That seemed quite
serious to me, but I still was thinking, “maybe we can make it!” and I kept
walking/hobbling.
My flip flops were sitting on the landing of the stairs and
I grabbed them and Daniel yelled at me, “What are you doing??” In my mind I was like, “Dude, I reached up
and grabbed them as I was walking. It took
no extra time. Back off.” But I don’t think I said anything. He seemed upset enough without me yelling at
him about flip flops. Because, you
know, I needed those flip flops. Skirts
= optional. Flip flops = mandatory. In laborland, at least.
We continued through the house and out the back door with
Daniel supporting most of my weight while I tried to walk/hobble out to the
car. We passed my mom on the way from
the house to the garage as she had just buckled Norah into our car and was
coming back into the house to take care of Miles. She asked Daniel, “Are you going to make it?”
and he said yea and just kept walking.
We got out to the car and Daniel walked me around to the
passenger side.. I climbed in facing the
back of the seat, so that my knees were on the seat and I could hold on to the
back of the seat. Norah was buckled into
the seat directly behind me, so we were essentially face to face. Daniel went around the car to get into the
driver’s seat and while he was doing that, for some reason I felt compelled to
reach down and make sure I couldn’t feel the baby already – you know, since we
were about to drive for the next 45 minutes.
I felt the baby’s head about ½ inch in and realized that we weren’t
going anywhere. I said, “His head is coming
out!” and sure enough, there came his head.
Dan had just gotten the driver’s door open, looked at me and said, “His
head is out!”. I said, “I know, that’s
what I just said!” He ran back around
from the driver’s side to the passenger’s side while I was trying to reach
behind me and figure out how to get ahold of the baby. My skirt was blocking
my way from the front. I was reaching
around behind me and could feel the baby’s head and tell there was no cord
wrapped around the neck, but I couldn’t figure out how to get the shoulders to
turn to come out. Turns out I didn’t
need to do anything – the next thing I knew he was all the way out. Dan had made it to the passenger side just
moments before and caught him and handed him to me.
I had a split second of being afraid to look – what if he
wasn’t breathing properly or something? – and then I was holding him up and he
was screaming. The cord was coming up
around behind me and around the back of my leg, and it wasn’t long enough for
me to really get the baby into my arms well from that position, so I was kind
of just sitting there on my knees, holding the baby out to the side, as close
to me as I could get him. I looked at
Norah and told her the baby was here.
She was just looking at me, wide eyed, totally alert and paying
attention, but not at all bothered. I
told her she could unbuckle and come see the baby, so she did.
Meanwhile somehow Daniel had gotten through to my mom that
we were having a baby in the car and she was shouting “Call 911!” I shouted, “Don’t call 911! Call Stephanie!” but I don’t think she heard
me, as she was running out of the garage trying to find a phone. Daniel got back into the car and got my phone
and we called Stephanie on her cell phone.
I don’t really remember much of that conversation. She asked if the baby was breathing ok and
told us to get a towel and dry him off.
I remember that she said we needed to put the baby into a carseat and
drive up to the center and I asked her how I was going to get the baby into a
carseat – he was still attached to me!
She wanted Daniel to tie off the cord MacGyver style with a shoelace,
and the look on his face told me he was not okay with this.
Daniel had managed to get me better situated with the baby
by this point, so I was sitting in the passenger seat facing forward with the
baby wrapped up in a towel when the ambulance and first responders showed
up. We still had Stephanie on the phone
and had her on speakerphone. I remember
being really aware of where the phone was because I didn’t want to lose her
because I was worried the paramedics might try to take me to a hospital and I
wanted them to talk to her and understand that we had a legitimate health care
professional who we were trying to get to.
I found out later that my mother gave the dispatcher the
wrong address –an address that actually doesn’t exist – and so there were other
first response vehicles out on the street trying to find us, but my mom managed
to flag down the ambulance so that’s who made it to the garage first. Because the passenger seat was up against the
wall of the garage only one person at a time could get to me, and no one could
really haul me out of the car very well.
I think this was rather fortunate, as they were wheeling up a stretcher
and I really didn’t want to get on it.
The stretcher couldn’t get to me anyways. *whew!*
One lady paramedic primarily attended me and no one else could really
reach me. I remember being really
confused as to why everyone was so worked up – people have babies at home all
the time, right? We hadn’t been trying to have a
baby at home, but it didn’t strike me as particularly problematic or scary to
do so. Definitely a bummer to not get to
use the tub or be at the nice birthing center, but nothing to freak out about.
The paramedic told me they had to clamp the cord immediately
– it was imperative! I felt myself
making my confused face and thought, “Uh, Lotus birth, anyone? Some people leave that thing on for daaaaaayyyys,” but what I said was,
“Seriously?” and she said they had to cut it so they could take me to the
nearest hospital. At which point began
the argument about not going to the nearest hospital. I said I didn’t want to go to the nearest
hospital, I wanted to go to Auburn where my midwife was practicing. They said I had to go to St. Joe hospital,
about 2 miles from my home. I said
no. They said yes. I said no.
And so on. Daniel was yelling at
them that they could go ahead and leave his property RIGHT NOW, that we didn’t
need them there and they weren’t listening to me.
Someone diffused the situation without resolving it and I
let it go for a bit. I apparently told
them at some point that it was ok for them to clamp the cord because it had stopped
pulsing. I don’t remember that, but
Stephanie heard it on the speakerphone.
So they clamped and cut the cord and took my blood pressure. Meanwhile Stephanie was telling one of the
other paramedics that she was a CNM with privileges at DeKalb Health, I was her
patient, I needed to come see her for follow up care, etc, etc.
All this was going on around me and I started worrying about
the placenta. I wasn’t sure how much
time had gone by or how long it was ok for it to still stay in there. I felt like it had detatched and gave a
little push, and out it came. Let me
tell you, if you ever find yourself in a situation where you have just given
birth and everyone is arguing around you but not really paying attention to
you, pushing out your placenta will definitely bring the spotlight back to
you. The lady paramedic turned to the
guy next to her and asked for a bag for it and I said, “No, wait! I want to keep it!” She said she was going to put it in a bag,
and I could keep it once it was in the bag.
I didn’t see a problem with just picking it up and putting it in the
bag, but no one else was having that and they kind of made a big show of
setting up the bag just right to catch it off the edge of the seat of the car. Whatever.
It was in the bag and no one was taking it.
The paramedics kept asking me who I thought was going to
drive me to Auburn and I kept looking at them with my confused face and saying,
“He is (pointing at Daniel). He was
trying to drive me there in the first place.”
Obviously I wasn’t going to drive, as I was in the passenger’s
seat. I had never planned to drive in
the first place. Oh, and I had just
given birth. Apparently they eventually
realized I was dead set on going to Auburn and decided to call St. Joe hospital
and talk to a Dr. there for a recommendation instead of continuing to fight
with us themselves. He recommended that
we transfer to his hospital, but I still refused, so they brought me two waivers
to sign for refusal of care, one for me and one for baby.
I really kind of wonder what they thought of all of that. By the time it was all over with I was
realizing that all these first responders got called to a ‘lady having a baby
in a car scenario’ and the most interesting thing most of them got to see was
my broken garage door. Then said lady
acted like having babies in random places was totally ok, refused to go to the
hospital, and took her bagged up placenta with her. All in a night’s work, I suppose.
Once the first responders realized we weren’t going with them
and that both the baby and I were in good shape, they set me up with some clean
towels and blankets and very kindly sent me on my way. Daniel took the baby into the house to dress
him and then brought him back out and installed the carseat. Norah got back into the car (at some point
she had migrated into the house and was reading books with my mom) and we
headed up to the birthing center.
Somewhere in there I managed to text Kristin that we had the
baby in the car, and when we got ready to leave I called her to let her know
everything was ok and we were headed to the center. I called Sarah and told her what had happened
and that we were going to the center, but I didn’t think we needed her to come
help with Norah since the labor was all over.
Getting his first check at the birthing center |
A perfect heartbeat! |
Our drive to the center was uneventful and I remember
thinking that this sure beat driving while in transition. When we got there everyone was waiting for
us. Stephanie checked on baby’s heart
and there was no arrhythmia at all! His
heart sounded perfect. I got a quick
check and there was one tiny tear that didn’t require any stitches. We did the fun ‘push on the uterus to get any
leftover yucky stuff out’ thing, and then I got cleaned up in the shower and
got into the nice warm tub with the baby to lounge and nurse.
In the tub I finally got to check him all
over, count his little fingers and toes, and get a nice, good look at him. He looked to me almost just like Miles had at
birth, only with more hair! Kristin got
me a drink and snack and took some pictures and generally helped out. The nurse at the center very kindly scrubbed
out the front seat of our car with peroxide and took all of our towels,
blankets, and my dirty clothes and put them into the wash for us. I thought my skirt was probably beyond
saving, but it came totally clean!
Stephanie weighed and measured the baby and he was 8lbs,
11.5oz, and 22 inches long. A big
guy! But long and lean like his brother
so that he didn’t really look all that big.
Checking out my little guy..... and he's perfect! |
Norah ran around the center finding all the tasty snacks and
treats she could. It was basically a
giant snack-fest / special treat / staying up late heaven for her. She was so excited to be involved and will
tell anyone who will listen how ‘our baby got born in the car’.
We stayed and rested at the center, sleeping for
awhile. My mom brought Miles up around 9
that morning and he got to meet the baby for the first time.
Meeting baby brother for the first time |
We celebrated all being together with
sparkling grape juice and champagne and enjoyed the fresh baked bread that was
ready for us in the center’s bread machine.
Around 11:30 we packed up and went home, now a family of 5.
And that is Baby Reid's birth story. Thanks for reading! Here are a few more photos, for your viewing pleasure...
Sunrise from the center on Reid's Birth Day morning |
Daddy and Baby Reid |
Not looking too shabby for just giving birth! |
Proud big sister |
I love this picture. It's like they're having a discussion.... "So, sis, what are we supposed to do with this?" "I dunno, little brother, what do you think?" |
All ready to head home... |
The blue flag is flying! |