During my birth experience with my
first child, I determined at that moment that the next birth would be a home
birth. The whole situation had been nothing but stressful and depressing, and I
was eager for an entirely different experience. And I certainly got it with the
home birth!
To start, I
sought out information on home births and midwives, and it was a long process. I
started on the base and asked the OB clinic’s front desk if they had
information about local midwives. The surprised secretary told me they did not
have such information, but here was a packet on the dangers of home birth. Ha,
thank you, but not what I was looking for. I then went to TriCare, our military
insurance company, to discuss what they may and may not cover. They will not
cover a cent of the birth or midwife and I was asked to sign forms saying I had
been informed of all this. That was fine by us, we had saved specifically for
this occasion, but I thought I would give it a go nonetheless.
I then searched
out midwives in the area. The nearest were located around 1 – 1.5 hrs drive
from my place. I contacted women I knew who had previously done home births
here in Italy and then contacted the midwife that looked most compatible with
me, Caterina.
Caterina came to
my house and met with me, along with her assistant and a translator that I had
hired to assist with smooth communication. My Italian has certainly improved during
my stay here, however my speech is still very basic and to ensure accuracy I
wanted a more fluent person as our go between. My translator is a dynamic
person, able to change hats and do many jobs. Her main job is as a maid, and
that was how I originally met her. She is also my neighbor, living only a few
doors down, and we use her as a sitter from time to time. When I called and
asked her if she would be interested in translating for me and attending my
birth, she said it would be an honor and she would be happy to.
We all
gathered at my place and I interviewed the midwives, giving them the lengthy
questionnaire I had prepared; it was about 5 pages long. We started very
general, from her schooling background and what made her want to be a midwife
to her experience with nuchal cords and breech. Some of my questions made my
translator rather uncomfortable. At one point my translator blushed as she saw
the next question on the sheet. “Oh you don’t really want me to ask her that…
do you??” “Yes, of course! I think it’s good to know.” Rather hesitantly she
asked the midwife if she had ever lost a baby at a birth she delivered. The
midwife smiled and replied she had not lost a one.
We were a good
fit and I quite liked her. She was expensive, €175 a
visit and over €2,000 for the birth, which made my
husband reconsider, however in the end we went with it and signed the papers to
make it official. I continued to be seen by the OB clinic on the base at my
whim. They did two ultrasounds and 4 appointments total. It was great doing it
this way. The base clinic had 5-6 OB’s that would rotate, so you could end up
with any one of them the day of your delivery, depending whom was on duty.
Because of this, the front desk would try to schedule you with someone
different every time you went in so you at least got to meet them each once in
case they were your doctor the day of the birth. Since I wasn’t going to
deliver with them though, I didn’t have to abide by this policy. I found a
midwife I liked and she was the one I met with each appointment. And neither
did I follow their schedule of going in every month and then every 2 weeks. I
went in when I felt like it, 2 of those appointments were simply so I could get
my ultrasound results. It was fabulous to have consistency and be able to see
the doctor only when necessary.
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| Washed and folded! Lucky kid is set in hand-me-downs. |
My husband
and I did it with our first child, though not entirely meaning to. I did a few
things that were recommended, not putting much faith into it but hoping to no
longer be pregnant, and he came the next morning! After that and my experience
with cancer, I was a full believer and read up on natural induction techniques.
So my hubby and I consulted the calendar and picked a day we favored. We wanted
to have the little guy before the end of the year so we would be able to file
him on our taxes and also for the sake of the grandparents. My brother and I
have this thing going where we trade off having kids every year so that our
parents will receive one a year (This also makes it easy for them to remember
their ages!). He had already informed me that he would be able to take 2015, so
if I didn’t get mine into 2014 I would mess up the whole system. We also wanted
a day that would maximize my husband’s leave. He automatically receives 10 days
from the day of the birth. So if we were to have the baby on a Saturday, four
of the days in his given leave would have already been days off. In order to
maximize it we thought a Monday would be best. We also wanted a date that was
easy to remember. Now all the boys in the family have birthdays ending on the
same digit.
After
selecting the date to shoot for, I consulted my various calendars and methods.
I consulted the moon phases since his conception (knowing that date was very
beneficial!) as they say it is far less successful until after a certain amount
of phases have passed since the conception date. It was going to be close; he
was going to be just barely past the mark, as long as God didn’t decide to send
him sooner, then we could make that day work. Then we got to work preparing! I
had the weeks prior all mapped out.
I was
definitely thrown off schedule when we were unexpectedly hospitalized with our
firstborn PKU child due to crazy high PHE levels, however my hubby was able to
take care of things and keep us on track.
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| My guys, building the double stroller. ^_^ I had wanted a double jogger, but after much debate we settled on the one my hubby was partial to, a sit and stand. |
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| Item on the to-do list, wash the playpen for baby #2. If you have one and have never washed it, I highly recommend doing it! Despite never using it outside or allowing our eldest to eat in it, he still managed to grub it up. :P ew |
Two weeks prior we did a deep clean of our house. As in
moving furniture to mop underneath sort of thing, and my hubby bleaching the mold spots in our
house (the humidity is high in Italy and mold is a frequent battle). We did
deep cleaning the weeks prior and the weekend before the planned day made the
final touches.
On Sunday the 28th our
translator called and asked how things were going and if there were any signs
yet. I had had some few random half hearted practice contractions the week
previous, but nothing interesting and no labor, so I said no, nothing yet. Little
did I know how this simple conversation would later affect things.
We decided that Sunday was the day
we began our natural induction process as we were shooting for the next day and
I was unsure how long it would take for things to take effect. I started in the afternoon, as starting too
soon might have resulted in him coming a day ahead of schedule. I did
everything I was able to do on that one day; from the ridiculous exercises to
the ridiculous foods, I did it all. I only ate salads with vinegar and gobs of
pineapple and tea until I thought I would vomit it all up.
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| Part of the reason I had to drink soooo much tea, was that it was not pure raspberry leaf tea, but also part raspberry. I was unable to find strictly raspberry leaf tea locally, so to compensate, I simply drank a ton! Next time, I am going to order the good stuff ahead of time and spare myself the tea overdose. |
The day culminated with a pressure
point massage (courtesy of hubby) and a little love making ;) [isn’t it great
to know that the ingredients that got you into this mess can also get you
out!?]. I departed after that. “Where are you going?” my hubby asked.
“Walking!” I said with a wink. I read it was important to do things in that
order, so walk I did. I put “Whenever, Whereever” by Shakira on repeat and
danced laps around our kitchen. I opened my phone to the contraction counter I
had ready and my computer to a website detailing the stages of labor so I could
figure out my stage based on the time of contractions.
And lo and
behold, the contractions came within minutes. What threw me off were the
websites I was on describing contractions and the labor stages. They generally
said you would have far apart sporadic contractions and that “Eventually they'll [contractions] be
coming every five minutes and lasting 40 to 60 seconds each as you reach the
end of early labor”. However, mine were not inconsistent, they were very consistent
and quite frequent, coming every minute and a half and lasting the 40-60
seconds.
I read things like that over and over
and was like, shoot, I’m already there? This can’t be it. I only just started,
already at the end of labor? The contractions were hardly even painful and I often failed to notice one until it passed. I kept at it though, remaining hopeful, and danced for about an hour
in the kitchen. However after that hour nothing had changed and my counter
looked roughly the same and there was no increase in pain. I was very
frustrated. This must be false labor, Braxton Hicks contractions they call
them. I had been so convinced that all our efforts and planning would have set
things in motion. We were ready, everything was prepared and the house was
spick and span, now was the perfect time! I had done all the natural induction
advice I could squeeze into the day. Why hadn’t this worked!? Ticked off, I
closed up shop, shutting off the music and electronics and heading to bed at
10:30pm.
I fell fast asleep and awoke at 12:15am in pain. hm, maybe it worked after
all. ;) Supposedly
one way to see if one is having false labor is to vary positions and relax and
if the contractions go away, then it’s not the real deal. So I drew a bath
figuring it would be warm and relaxing for false labor, or I would be readying
my water birth if this were the real deal. Win-win. I hopped in the bath and
after 15 mins things hadn’t changed. Oh how exciting, this was it! I phoned my
hubby from the bathroom (yes, because we are of the generation that always has
our phones on us. I have answered calls while showering before and I knew my
hubby would have his cell on his nightstand, so I called him) and told him I
was fairly certain I was in labor.
His
sleepy self rolled out of bed and brought a chair into the bathroom where he
sat next to the tub. He was continually yawning and seemed quite disinterested
in having a birth right then. I felt bad for waking him and said, “You can go
back to bed if you want; this probably isn’t it”. Mid yawn he replied, “Eh,
I’ll stick around for a few more minutes”. However within a few minutes, things had
rapidly progressed.
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| Our home birth supplies kit we gathered, as instructed by our midwife. We only ended up using a couple items, as my birth was fairly straight forward and uncomplicated. |
So my husband continued to call,
but received no reply. Then my water broke. “Skip the translator, call the
midwife!” I told him. We would have to manage without the translator, and the
midwife would know what was up if she received a call from my husband in the
middle of the night. So my husband called, and she didn’t pick up either. On
one of his consecutive calls, she picked up and let him know she would call her
associate and that they would both be on their way. My hubby hung up. Someone
was coming, however we both knew they wouldn’t arrive before the baby did.
My husband admitted being quite
nervous as he realized it was now up to him to catch the baby. I however, was
rather excited. I had always wanted to do a free birth, but to be on the safe
side and mostly to make my husband feel better, we had hired a midwife. For me,
the fewer the people around, the better. I find they are distracting and only
get in the way, whether or not they are intending to help.
Around 7ish minutes after my water
broke, our second child was born, at 1:26am. Barely over an hour since I had first woken. My hubby did a great job and it was an excellent bonding time for all of
us. DS2 was born with a tint of blue to the face and rings of fire around his irises,
but his color came to him quickly and the fire of his eyes was gone after
several weeks. I then sat with my new baby in the warm bath and we relaxed
there together while my DH made our bed ready. I birthed the placenta not long
after that, which we placed in a Tupperware so we could leave the cord attached
to the baby. I had no qualms with cutting the cord, however I have read that up
to a 1/3 of the new baby’s blood supply can be transferred to them just after
the birth through the placenta, so just because we could, we left it attached.
We then carried the baby and the tupperware to the bed. I got cleaned up and
donned the pajamas I had laid out for after birth and snuggled into bed with
him.
Clean up was easy, it was all in
the bathtub. While I fed the baby my hubby did the quick clean up. Towels were
promptly placed in the washer and things put away. I marveled at how easy the
birth had been. Don’t get me wrong, it was certainly painful! But compared to
my first son, this birth was far more low-key. It was quick and simple, and our
elder son never even woke, and his room is right next to our bathroom. One
midwife showed up about 40 mins after the birth. She came and measured and weighed
the baby (9lbs 6oz!). My hubby boiled hot water for her medical supplies and
then she inspected me. She exclaimed, “Bravisima!” as I had not a tear from my
good sized son. She was very impressed with us and found she had nothing to do
after having my husband cut the cord. Then the second midwife arrived and we
reviewed things and she also found she was not needed and had nothing to do. So
they congratulated us and they departed by 3 am.
After they left, hubby and I
decided that we would simply go back to bed. So we snuggled down and went back
to sleep! Here at home I was in my own pajamas, and no one would be coming in
every half hour to do vitals on the baby or inspect me or measure my pee, etc.
No one would tell me I could not have my baby in my bed and to store him in the
plastic cart instead. I was not hooked up to Pitocin and unable to move freely,
nor were there things attached to my arms preventing me from bending and being
able to hold my baby. No beeping machines or blinking lights, simply, our room.
I was so happy with the stark contrast to the birth with my first son as it had
been quite miserable for me. This was precisely the 180o experience
I had hoped and prayed for. Hallelujah!
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| DS2's first picture ^_^ My older son's first picture looks just like every other first baby's picture. He's in a shirt with the hospital's logo on it, wrapped in a starched white cloth on starch white sheets in a plastic rolling crate with ID bands on his limbs (rather like the morgue come to think of it... lying on a rolling crate with starch white sheets and ID bands. creepy). Our second son's first pic is in our home in clothes we chose and under love knit blankets. <3 |
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