Non-Scary "Natural As Granola" Birth Stories

I delivered my first (and so far, only) child 2 years ago in a beautiful, natural childbirth. I gave birth in a hospital (not in Indy) that followed my birth plan to a T. I was assisted by a midwife and my husband. There were lots of L&D nurses on hand who would periodically pull the midwife aside and say “I think we need to put an IV starter in her hand just in case” or other comments like that, and the midwife advocated for me and kept everyone on target.

I labored in a jacuzzi tub, on a birthing ball, and in the birthing tub. The water would start to feel pretty hot after a while, so I frequently moved from place to place. While I was in the birthing tub I shifted positions often, too. I would move from sitting, to kneeling, to kneeling on all fours, to squatting. It was kind of amazing that my body just knew what to do to keep me comfortable.

I did not experience a lot of pain. I felt frustrated often (especially while pushing for 2.5 hrs!) but the pain was very well managed by the different positions and the water. My midwife did an excellent job of coaching me through labor & delivery. My daughter did an excellent job of stretching out her exit path! I’ve heard new moms say how terrible it was for the baby’s head to come partially out and then sink back in…but this was the perfect method to stretch the skin and avoid tearing. Everything worked really well! =)

I had no meds, no IV thingy started in my hand (I forget what that thing is called), no internal fetal monitoring, no episiotomy, no medical interventions, and a hospital water birth. I feel very lucky. I truly wish I could recreate this experience in Indianapolis for my next child(ren), but I fear that I will not be able to get everything that I want. I liked having the support of a hopsital team in case they would have been needed. And I loved the progressive mindset they had that allowed my midwife and me to tell them how things were going to go. My daughter stayed in the room with us the whole time and we got to go home fairly early. She was born at 4:11 pm and I believe we left around 8 or 9 the next morning. And it felt like a LONG wait! We were ready to go home even sooner.

So, there’s my natural birth experience. I LOVED it!!!

We had just put Sophie to bed (this was when Sophie still slept apart from us). Liesl had fallen asleep on the couch. We had gone to a nearby enclosed toddler park, because the weather was nice, and they needed to romp themselves silly.

My back hurt. My back had been achey for several days, and I was tired of being pregnant. Once I found out that the obnoxious scratchy, pinchy twinges in my vagina were signs of cervical ripening and effacing, I’d started taking herbal supplements, walking daily, and molesting my husband nightly for the prostaglandins in his sperm. I’m such a romantic.

I was sitting on the couch, a nineteenth-century French Provincial sofa with gold silk upholstery, reading a science fiction book (In The Shadow of the Torturer by Gene Wolfe) when my water broke. Well, sure, where else would it break? It felt like being kicked by the baby, except it was wet and it actually made an audible “pop,” which was a little weird.

“Oh, hey, my water broke,” I said. “Maybe I’ll go into labour soon. Be right back, I need to pee – oooof!“

“Do I need to call the midwife?”

“Nah. I’ll probably putter around in early labour all night. She’s huge, like Sophie; she’ll take her own sweet time. Ooooof.“

I waddled off to the bathroom to pee. My husband called our midwife on his cell phone while I squatted on the toilet. Amniotic fluid and urine made their way out. My uterus flexed its muscles again, and this time, in my squatting position, it hurt in a really obnoxious and distracting sort of way. Come on, pee. Come on, poop. Leave my body so I can get off this stupid toilet.

I waddled back out, draped myself while kneeling over the seat of the wing chair, because my exercise ball was in the basement covered with raw sewage from the broken plumbing (the storm sewer, which was a mixed sewer, emptied directly into our basement until our landlord allowed his property manager to fix it; the problem had been fixed a few days ago, but the ball was toast. And no, we hadn’t known about this little problem when we signed the lease; the basement did not flood until the spring thaw.) “Oh, I think you can probably call the midwife and the doula and let them know I’m in labour,” I muttered, not knowing that my husband had been on the phone with them for several minutes, debating whether or not we’d have time to fill the birthing tub.

Another surge. It hurt, but not in a bad way, really – just an interesting way. I didn’t feel much like talking. “Can you put on the Mozart?” I asked, when my uterus was relaxed again.

He put on the Mozart and arranged some chux.

Liesl snored.

I had two or three more uterine flexes like that, and I was just starting to hit my stride when the next one made me moan “eeeeeeeeeeeee!” Loudly. And the next one. And the next one, and I just pooped on the floor, didn’t I? Sheesh.

The Mozart, which had consoled me through IBS attacks from hell, miserable migraines, and vorpal sinus infections that would have given someone who had private insurance Oxycontin with her antibiotics, was starting to annoy me. Too much input. And I was hot, so I ripped off the cotton nightgown I’d just changed into a few minutes ago.

Another surge, another time when I couldn’t stop moaning or singing or whatever the heck I was doing loudly enough that I was pushing my face into the cushions to keep from waking Liesl, and the living room was too hot and busy and full of chux pads that visually reminded me that I was labouring. I wanted out of there, and besides, I had to pee again, so I staggered to the loo.

Peeing hurt. This time I screamed. No, I did not want to be on that toilet. It friggin hurt. “Midwife’s coming as fast as she can,” my husband said. “We probably don’t have time to fill the birthing pool, do we?”

Yeah, yeah, whatever. I had hunkered down in the bathtub, the coolest, most enclosed, most cavelike place I could find. I did not want the bed, it reminded me of labour. I definitely did not want the toilet, it made my veejayjay hurt.

Another labour pain. I screamed. I think it was only in the alto range, not spiraling up into the stratosphere occupied by Sarah Brightman the way I had done during Liesl’s birth; but that, I am sure, was because this time, I was not perched on the toilet. Toilets were horrible devices, instruments of anguish.

A few more screams passed. My husband was on the phone again. Timing my labour pains. The nerve. Who cared how long they lasted, or how far apart they were? Stupid trivia.

My pubic area felt like it was being stabbed with a butter knife. I thought of Jack the Ripper. How long was this going to last? I didn’t like thinking about that, so I stopped. Sweat dripped from my brow. “G-d help me,” I prayed, over and over again. Don’t let me disgrace myself. Don’t let me collapse. Don’t let me try to escape this one. If you can survive pain, give me some strength to do the same.

At some point Liesl was woken up by my screams and padded over to the bathroom looking for me. “Mama,” she said firmly, and grabbed on to my arm, leaning in to me for the security of my presence. Periodically I’d have another pain, and howl, and she’d whimper a little and hold tighter until I stopped caterwauling. G-d help me.

I’m not sure when my husband entered the bathroom, cell phone in hand, but at some point, he did. During a brief quiet phase, between howls, he asked, “Wouldn’t you rather be in the living room?” NO. If I wanted to be in the living room, I’d be there.

Another one.

“Yeah, they’re about two minutes apart and last a long time,” he said.

Who cared.

“I’m feeling kind of grunty,” I muttered, for some reason. I think my left brain was lonely and, acting on its own accord, decided to try to contribute something useful to the conversation. “AAAAAAAAAAUGH.”

(Whoa. There’s this head pushing at me, and my husband just wiped my bum, which means I’m pooping. Gross. Wait a minute. The baby can’t be coming out already. I didn’t even go through a pushing phase. Dude…)

I got the ring of fire effect, and not being one for delays or self control, I pushed hard so the firey feeling would be over with. One push for the head, another for the body. This baby felt bigger and harder to push out than Liesl had been. (Well, duh, Liesl had been a preemie, it occurred to me later. At the time I wasn’t thinking about that.) Crying, very cute crying, a warm, wet, bloody baby in my arms. The smell of sex and blood. It was nice.

“Baby!” crooned a very excited Liesl, who apparently got something out of the Nilsson photography books. She was two and a half years old, almost three, and didn’t seem in the least traumatized, oddly enough. “Baby!”

My husband told me, “It’s another girl.” We’d already picked out a name: Michael. Time to go back to the drawing board.

The midwife and doula arrived, and took note of the time. Eight oh five in the evening. Hang on. That meant labour took… one hour and fifteen minutes. Gee, no wonder it hurt.

I looked down, after quibbling with the midwife over her tugging, however gently, on my placenta (I found out later that she was worried because I’d lost a lot of blood, was still losing blood, and was turning white. Otherwise, she would have left it alone.) “Whoa,” I said, “I have camel lips.”

The rest of the evening was quiet and calm. We took a tea bath together after Kassandra’s cord was cut. We snuggled in bed as a family. My midwife, knowing I wanted to avoid going to the hospital because the staff would separate me from Kassandra and put her in the NICU just because I’d dared to birth outside of a hospital setting (heck, I didn’t even want to go alone and leave the baby with my husband) force-fed me bananas and peanut butter and made me drink water and sit upright when I just wanted to lie down and pass out. I wasn’t allowed to sleep until eleven. I nursed the baby, who kept trying to eat her fist. We weighed her (about nine and a half pounds) and named her.

Finally we were alone, and we called his parents. The date was April 1, and my husband has a history of pulling pranks, to Kassandra had to cry into the phone.

It was a physically painful birth, though not as bad as some of my migraines and IBS attacks, which last a lot longer. Just because it hurt did not make it an unpleasant birth. It wasn’t bad pain. Just intense. In retrospect, most of my labour was probably transition. I’d been in prodromal labour (don’t sneeze) for more than a week.

Currently reading: Adventures In Unhistory – Avram Davidson; The Icon And The Axe: An Interpretive View of Russian History and Culture – James Billington; Dracula: Prince of Many Faces – Radu Florescu and Raymond T. McNally; Nickled and Dimed: On Not Getting By in America – Barbara Ehrenreich. Plus various periodicals.

My heart isn’t made of gold. It’s made of quicksilver.

I love your dry sense of humour. :) The nurses must have loved you.

Currently reading: Adventures In Unhistory – Avram Davidson; The Icon And The Axe: An Interpretive View of Russian History and Culture – James Billington; Dracula: Prince of Many Faces – Radu Florescu and Raymond T. McNally; Nickled and Dimed: On Not Getting By in America – Barbara Ehrenreich. Plus various periodicals.

My heart isn’t made of gold. It’s made of quicksilver.

Yes, 3 of my 5 were born without any drugs. All were born in hospitals.

My first was born with nurses only because she jumped the gun, and a good thing at that since I had abrupted without anyone knowing until the doc delivered the placenta. My fourth was born with a midwife in France because that’s the way they do deliveries in hospitals-doctors only come in for complications.

Two were born with a one-hour narcotic to take the edge off (I agreed to it the first time when I was made nervous about getting pitocin the first and only time.)

With my oldest, I had a very shallow understanding of birthing techniques and I basically breathed and squirmed through it. My technique improved with my 2nd and I “played dead” focusing on a fixed point. The doc decided to use pitocin with my third and it scared me, but I still used the relaxation techniques with the narcotic he gave me. The fourth delivery was so weird…I was a 10 after 2 hours of irregular, medium contractions and was shocked when the nurse said I could push. My fifth and last was the neatest, coolest delivery because I truly “rode the waves” most of the time, despite the fact that I still used the narcotic to take the edge off the end. I dreaded the part where the baby’s head is out and the doc stops me to suck out the goo from baby’s nose and mouth. So I was silly that time and faked the first push because I wasn’t quite ready for the point of no return. But for the most part, it went beautifully and for the first time, I did not tear!

Childbirth is definitely something I’ll miss.

What’s the most predominant greenhouse gas?...The climate of Earth is able to support life in large part because of the atmospheric greenhouse effect and the workings of the hydrological cycle. Water in the gaseous phase, water vapor, is a key element in both of these.

Childbirth is definitely something I’ll miss.

Me too.

I think I’d want to go for more if all our girls weren’t in need of special intervention and extra care. However, the autism changes everything. I don’t think it would be fair to our daughters to add yet another baby right now.

Maybe when they’re older and more independent, we can adopt, or become foster parents.

I’ll still miss the whole pregnancy and birth experience, though.

Currently reading: Adventures In Unhistory – Avram Davidson; The Icon And The Axe: An Interpretive View of Russian History and Culture – James Billington; Dracula: Prince of Many Faces – Radu Florescu and Raymond T. McNally; Nickled and Dimed: On Not Getting By in America – Barbara Ehrenreich. Plus various periodicals.

My heart isn’t made of gold. It’s made of quicksilver.

I gave birth to both of my children at home. I would never think about going anywhere else to birth my healthy children either. Home is the safest, cleanest place to have babies. I won’t write both birth stories, but I’ll high light them. June 4th, 2005,(I was 43.5 weeks along) I went into labor at home while playing Tetris. I tried going up my stairs into my bedroom, but had 4 contractions on the way up. My husband had to help me. I labored in the shower, in the bathroom, on the toilet, in my bed. My husband and I were very intimate the whole time…hugging, kissing, massaging, etc. I guess I had what you would call a “silent birth”. I had alot of back labor because my daughter was posterior. I asked my mom, sister, aunt, two cousins and my best friend/midwife attend my birth. All of whom were very respectful of being quiet and not talking or asking me questions. I labored the way I wanted. I walked when I wanted. I ATE and DRANK when I wanted. I got into any position as I wanted. Finally after 6 hours of labor, I got the urge to push, BUT I didn’t “push”, I more so breathed my daughter down. She arrived at 1:20 am into my husband’s hands. She then breast crawled up and latched on immediately. Beautiful expierence…one of the best days of my life.

Second labor and birth: I went into labor on April 29th, 2008 (I was 45wks 1d along). I had called my husband at work to tell him I thought I was in labor. I decided to vacuum my house before he got home; it just felt right. He came home and asked if I had called my midwife yet. I didn’t. He called her and told her to come because he thought this was it. My husband prepared my tub of warm water. I labored in it, but just didn’t like being in it. I decided to do most of my laboring on the toilet. While laboring on my toilet, I felt my ROM, which I didn’t get to feel during my first labor. What a sensation! My contactions seemed stronger after that happend. After that, I got off the pot and decided to labor in the door way of my bedroom and bathroom. Again, it just felt right! I wasn’t as affectionate with my husband this time around. In fact, I didn’t want him anywhere near me. I didnt want anyone near me except my midwife. (I bruised the hell out of her arm too. oops) My body started pushing early on in labor, which I couldn’t control at all. My body pushed for 8 hours straight. Finally, I felt my son’s body descend and felt that lovely ring of fire…oh boy. And his little body slid out and was immediately placed on my chest. I then birthed the placenta, which I was planning to do Lotus Birth with, but decided against it at the last min. My son and I took our wonderful herb bath together and bonded and felt each other’s skin. Beautiful birth. For me, natural, normal birth is empowering. I feel most alive and acomplished when in labor. I can’t wait to do it all over again!

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We’ve put birth in the same category with illness and disease and it’s never belonged there. Birth is naturally safe, but we’ve allowed it to be taken over by the medical community.

Carla Har

I had a great birth when I had Katie! I kept waking up that night with a back ache, I finally got up at 5 am and decided to time those “back aches” while chatting online on my old message boards. I discovered they were 4 min. apart! I went upstairs and told dh that I though I was having contractions, to which he responded, “I just got to bed!” I told him to get his butt up and I went to take a shower and had a good contraction in there. I called the dr. at 6 and she told us to come in. I started getting harder contractions in the car and by the time I got there I was 7 cm with my bag of water bulging. They got me in my room, my dr. broke my water and she was born about 20 min. later without a push! My dr. had been checking on another patient and didn’t even get there in time and the nurse held her back for a couple of min. until I yelled at her or it would have only been 10 min. after my water broke.

I really wanted to do it the same way with my twins, but because they were 7 weeks early and Luke was breach so they insisted on a c-section and I’m still totally bummed!

Kelly Mommy to 4 kids, including twins!

Hi! I worked at the Birth Center during this time period. (Actually for the OB that shared the building with the Midwives.) And Karin is a great friend of mine with three kids of her own now. Small world. Interesting to know that you were there with your family while I was up front answering phones! lol

Michele C.

June 4th, 2005,(I was 43.5 weeks along) I went into labor at home while playing Tetris.

Funny you should mention that; last year at about this time, in a natural childbirth thread (on homebirth, I think) I was comparing the Gaskin manoevre to Tetris.

BTW, thanks, everybody, for all the cool birth stories.

Currently reading:The Icon And The Axe: An Interpretive View of Russian History and Culture – James Billington; Dracula: Prince of Many Faces – Radu Florescu and Raymond T. McNally; A Sundial In A Grave: 1610 by Mary Gentle. Plus various periodicals.

My heart isn’t made of gold. It’s made of quicksilver.