jack's birth story

One year later, it's kind of fun to look back on the day Jack joined our family.

Our baby was due March 18th, 2009, but I expected that I'd follow my typical pattern of going a few days past my due date. I was aiming for the first day of Spring, March 20th.

The weather had been really lovely all week and I'd spent a lot of time outside weeding and doing a bit of Spring cleanup in the yard. The daffodils had just bloomed and it seemed to me that mid-March was a wonderful time to have a baby.

On Friday the 20th I was making pizza for our regular pizza and movie night and the Braxton-Hicks contractions that I'd been having all week gradually became consistent and closer together. It was pretty obvious that the baby was on the way. I called our midwife Richelle to let her know what was up and she agreed to come over soon. We expected things to move pretty fast since my labor with Daniel lasted only two hours.

Richelle came at around 8:00 pm and started setting up her stuff and then turned her attention to me. She checked my dilation and found me to be at 6 cm. We figured it wouldn't be much longer before I had a baby in my arms, but the contractions didn't seem to pick up much in intensity and were becoming a bit erratic, so Joe and I headed out for a late night stroll around the neighborhood to see if we could get things moving again. We walked up and down our street, pausing for me to lean into Joe during contractions. We ended up at the neighborhood playground and Joe tried to convince me that swinging on the swings would be good for labor. I wasn't in the mood for swinging, but tried to sit down on a swing and relax for a bit-- it was way too uncomfortable.

The contractions did pick up a bit as a result of the walk, but they slowed back down again when we got home. We all agreed that rest would be a good thing, so Richelle gave me a nice. long massage (heaven!!) and then Joe snuggled up next to me and we slept/rested for a couple of hours. I couldn't rest through the contractions anymore at that point and I decided I was ready to get up, move around, and get the show on the road. Joe and I headed out for another walk around the neighborhood, again pausing for contractions, and laughing at how funny we'd look to anyone driving by: a hugely pregnant woman in a fuzzy pink bathrobe hanging from the neck of a tired skinny guy.

Richelle had been monitoring the baby's heartbeat since she arrived and things were looking great. After we returned from our walk, I got a nice belly rub with Clary Sage oil. My contractions were finally starting to feel serious. I walked around the house making my whale noises and swaying my hips from side to side. We decided this would be a good time to get into the birth pool (an inflatable kiddie pool that we'd purchased just for Jack's birth). Joe, my mom and Richelle started filling it up and getting it ready for me. It was finally filled and ready and I climbed in. I spent five blissful minutes in there before everyone else realized that the pool had a leak. Fortunately, we had plastic down under the pool, so no water had made it to the floor yet, but it was obvious that I'd have to get out and the pool would have to be drained. I put up a bit of a fight-- but in the end Joe was able to talk some sense into me in spite of my fuzzy laboring brain.

I spent the next little while crying about my leaky pool in the shower while the rest of the crew worked feverishly to empty the pool before it made a mess. I think Richelle gave me another massage after I got out of the shower and I started to feel better about things. I was finally tired of walking around and started spending more time draped over the birth ball in a modified hands and knees position. I felt so spoiled to have three people taking care of me. I had Richelle doing counter pressure on my back, my mom doing light touch massage on my calves and feet and Joe looking into my eyes and whispering encouragement. (my sister Erin was there to take care of the boys-- but they were asleep)

Around 7:20, Richelle asked to check my dilation again. I was still 6 cm. I was a little discouraged at that news. The baby was very low in my pelvis and Richelle suggested that it was possible that I needed to have my water broken to get things to move past that point. We agreed to it and there was a big gush of clear water (a great sign)

She wasn't kidding about getting things moving. Labor became very intense for me. If my labor support team had been nice before, they'd become an absolute necessity and I needed all the kind and encouraging words and firm touch they could provide to help me stay centered and grounded. I moved to the bed and assumed a side lying position and not long after, the baby started to crown-- everyone started to comment on how much black hair the baby had. I blurted out, "If it's a girl, her name is Maggie!" (we hadn't found out the baby's gender before-hand).

Lincoln woke up and came upstairs to see what was going on. Joe sent him back downstairs to wake Daniel so that he wouldn't miss the baby's birth-- they'd both been looking forward to this. After only a few pushes, the baby's head was out. I'll never forget the look of awe and delight on their faces as they watched the baby emerge. Once the head was out, the baby paused a little before rotating it's shoulders and coming free. I remember reaching down and feeling a tiny ear and soft little cheek. Once the shoulders were free, Richelle told me to reach down and bring up my baby.

And suddenly, there was a perfect little baby on my chest. He didn't cry much, but his muscle tone and color were great so we weren't concerned. I did a quick check between the baby's legs to see what we had and then announced to everyone that we had a boy! Lincoln and Daniel climbed up on the bed to say hello to their new brother. We waited until the cord stopped pulsing to cut it. My mom did the honors, just like she did when Lincoln and Daniel were born and then our sweet boy went to his daddy's waiting arms.

When the placenta came, there was a huge gush of blood immediately after. I was hemorrhaging. Richelle quickly gave me a shot of pitocin in each thigh and started firmly massaging my belly to get my uterus to contract and stop bleeding (my least favorite part of the entire ordeal). The bleeding slowed and then stopped and she started a saline IV to help keep my blood pressure up. Because I was stable-- I hadn't passed out or even felt dizzy or lightheaded-- she gave us the option to go to the hospital for a transfusion or to stay home and monitor my blood pressure and iron levels. We opted to stay home and start on a supplement regimen to get my iron levels back up. (I took Floridix and Chlorophyll and my iron levels were back to normal within two weeks)

My mom brought me a big breakfast of juice, toast, scrambled eggs and lots of fresh fruit-- I was sure it was the most delicious meal I'd ever eaten. Richelle weighed, measured and cleaned the baby and we were shocked when he weighed in at 9 lbs. 7 oz.-- he looked so tiny to all of us! After the baby had nursed well and it was clear that I was okay, Joe was finally overcome by exhaustion and went to sleep downstairs. Richelle and my mom got everything cleaned up and then Richelle headed home too with the promise to return the next day to check on us, but only after giving us lists of things to watch for in both me and the baby. I spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed with my sweet new little one. At some point in the afternoon, we decided to name him Jack Webster Hadfield. And the rest, you know, is history