Waylon's Birth Story

Saturday, October 5, 2024

When I woke up at 12:00 AM, I thought the stuffed mushrooms, giant salad, 14 oz steak and ice cream cone I had the night before on my date with your dad just weren’t sitting well in my belly; after all, storage space was already extremely limited in my 40 week pregnant belly. Little did I know it was actually my first sign that you were on your way. Your brother woke up at 12:30 and decided he wanted to come to our bed, which is rather out of character for him, but I think you guys were in cahoots long before your arrival earthside. At 1:30, you woke me up again, I peed (naturally), and was able to fall back asleep until 3:30. When 3:30 rolled around, and after I peed once again for probably the 6th time that night, I got back into bed and something clicked in my brain that it was YOU, not the feast that was waking me up, and I was thrilled. My guys slept soundly next to me for the next several hours, I sent my team of midwives a message to let them know “I think we have a baby heading our way” with all of the details around 5:30, while my contractions became more consistent. Starting off every thirty minutes and settling around 11 minutes by 7:00 AM when Monty woke up for the day.. When monty awoke, I whispered in his ear “are you ready to become a big brother today” and he sleepily, yet hastily replied “yes!”. He and I snuggled for several minutes until dad woke up and we shared the news with him. We were planning on going to a “big truck” show in columbus that day because your brother has a bit of an obsession, but I knew I was not going to make it. I texted your grandmother to let her know we weren’t going to make it, and immediately, she knew what that meant. My midwife told me to rest as much as possible until the sun came up, and to take a nice walk when I felt up for it. We all got up, brewed some coffee, and a big cup of raspberry leaf tea and set off on our walk amidst a dense fog that had rolled in the night before. It has been so hot lately, I would say unseasonably, but given we are deep in Mississippi, I’d say it is actually within character. But that morning, a bit of a chill had crept in. As we made the small loop, taking several breaks along the way, several signs brought so much peace to my anxious heart. Choosing to have you at home was never a hard decision, but it came with plenty of worry. Working in the NICU for the first 3 years of my nursing career only brought me horror stories of attempted (or accidental) home deliveries. But after working in labor and delivery/well-baby  nursery for the past year, I realized that most births CAN be intervention free, non medical events; because our bodies were made for this. That being said, those stories haunted my peaceful mind. But on this morning, I felt the strength of dozens of women who have delivered on this farm, the strength of my own mother and grandmother who both had unmedicated deliveries, and the strength that I have been curating, mentally and physically, for the past 9 months. My body had grown you to perfection for 40 weeks, and I trusted that it knew how to bring you to this world. We saw the sun shining perfectly through an old oak tree in the pasture, and blue morning glories blooming in abundance all over the farm. We chose not to find out whether you were a boy or a girl, but this felt like a sign from my grandmother that another boy would be joining our family that day. Blue morning glories were her favorite, and we had never seen them on our farm prior to that week. Before I could do anything else, I had this deep need to clean the bathroom, and I mean DEEP clean. Bleach the tub and shower, scub the toilet, wash the bathmats, you name it. Maybe my body knew just how much time I’d be spending in that room specifically over the next several hours…As those hours passed, labor progressed well, and I was in touch with the midwives. We straightened up, washed sheets and bath mats, and made sure all of the supplies we had gathered were all in order. We made the bed in the greenhouse and spent some time outside just walking, listening to the birds and bugs and wind, and felt the sun on my body. At this point, contractions were consistently 5-7 minutes apart with some happening 2-3 minutes apart, they were getting more uncomfortable and a little bit erratic due to your position. While you were head down (thank goodness) you were persistent about being in a face up position (OP, or sunny side up). So while most babies come out face down, allowing their heads the mound throughout the birth canal, it was your forehead causing all of the pressure. Well baby heads just don’t squeeze and mound well like this, so while I was dilating, you weren’t scootching down like you should have been. When I told the midwife about how far apart contractions were and the intensity, she recommended trying out the Mile’s circuit. This is a series of three positions that help to position baby more optimally and hopefully helps to normalize contractions a bit. You are supposed to work your way up to 30 minutes per position, but staying in even one position for longer than 10 minutes or 2-3 contractions was pretty unbearable. I tried the first two in bed, and went back outside to walk the steps for the third position, along with some lunges on the steps. I was desperate to get you into a better position (spoiler alert, you said no). This did seem to slow down/regulate the contractions a bit more, now about every 5 minutes. I called my midwife who said she was on her way; and she arrived around 11:40. She checked me and said I was about 6 cm dilated but you were still very high in my pelvis. So rinse wash repeat for SEVERAL hours of aforementioned positions, lunges, squats, walking, you name it. Your dad was so present. With every contraction came relief from hip squeezes and affirmations that my body was made to do this, and with each contraction we were closer to meeting you, another one down. He ran me a bath for a change of scenery and new form of pain relief and when I say I never wanted to get out, I meant it. The relief from gravity was a breath of fresh air. We probably hung out here for a good hour before shifting back to the bedroom for more lunges, rock backs and deep squats… you were relentless. Several weeks before delivery, at a routine visit with my midwives they asked about how I envisioned my labor and birth experience, something I feel is lacking in the medical world. So often I have moms come in with a birth plan that is being looked at and discussed for the first time in the hospital. But in my heart, I know that this should be an ongoing conversation. There are too many “recommendations” out there on insta and the internet that are not necessarily backed by research, or are not realistic in some birth settings, and moms should know this before the day they have their baby. Anyways, I talked about how I felt like labor was such an intimate experience and how I don’t want to be hovered over or watched. I talked about how Alex was my birth partner AND what that meant to me. I wanted Monty to be present for as long as I could tolerate, and to have him with us as soon after delivery as we could. We talked about cord clamping, where I wanted to deliver, and what I pictured immediate postpartum to look like. And these are all things that are decided for you in the hospital. So the next hour consisted of just your dad and I, laboring together in the bedroom, praying you were descending appropriately. When the midwife came back in to listen to heart tones and check me one more time, I was about 9.5 cm dilated and was sporadically feeling the urge to push… listening to my body, I allowed it to push when it told me to. And this was not for the duration of every contraction, or to the count of ten 3 times per contraction, or even with every contraction that came. This is called the fetal ejection reflex, and it is about as powerful and unrelenting as the urge to vomit. There is no denying it. At this point, I got back into the bath, attempting some relief and honestly starting to get desperate. I remember from Monty’s birth I hit a wall, and this wall for me typically comes around the transition phase of labor where you dilate the last two centimeters and baby is starting to make its way past your pelvis into the birth canal. It is the most uncomfortable part of labor, and while the pain is all too real, it meant we were so so close. I spent MONTHS hyping myself up for this moment. I knew I was going to get scared, I knew I was going to feel like I couldn’t do it, I knew I was going to want an epidural. But I also knew that my body was made for this, that the pain was not a bad pain, but a productive and good pain, and that with each contraction we were so much closer to meeting you. But I still couldn’t feel your head. When I stood to get out of the bath, my midwife told me to change up my breathing for a contraction or two, and I felt the most immediate sense of relief I had gotten in hours; my water had broken. I got out of the bath and went to the bed where I tried to push for 1 or 2 contractions but was so uncomfortable because the bed was too soft. At this point, my team knew that your arrival was imminent, but that you were still being stubborn. Your heart tones sounded so strong through out the entire day, and that didn’t change now, but you could stay where you were for long. At this point, my midwife said very matter of factly, “we are going to go to the bathroom, your going to sit forward on the toilet for two contraction, backward for two contractions and then kneel on each side for two contractions each. I didn’t know it then, but she knew you were just shy of “stuck”. These were the hardest 8 contractions of the entire day. With each squeeze of my belly came an urge to push that was so strong, I could not stay seated. But I allowed my mental state to take over my physical state and focus on each individual breath, one at a time. And with that 5th contraction, I could FINALLY feel your head. And I became acutely aware of how terrifying this must be for you. And with the next push came your big ass head. But the stubbornness did not end there, once your head was out, we realized that your hand had come out with it, but your shoulders were stuck inside of my pelvis. Cue the kneeling. I pushed twice on one side and with the first push on the other, your body was born 2 minutes later at 5:39 PM on October 5, 2024. And then you were in my arms. I had waited so long for this moment and here you were. I whispered “I love you” first, and the second thing I said was “what are you?”. We had waited 40 weeks to the day to find out if you were a boy or a girl, and what a joyful experience to find that out in that moment. You were perfect, and you were screaming, and showed no signs of distress. One would have no idea what you had just gone through just by looking at you. We see this same exact situation in the hospital often. It’s called a shoulder dystocia. And there are a couple of different ways baby can get lodged in the pelvis, and the way they fix it in the hospital is typically done by someone putting all of their body weight on mom’s belly to try and dislodge the shoulder and force the body out. It’s terrifying. And often the only option due to epidurals inhibiting positional changes. In my case, I could not stand to lay on my back, and I felt so much relief being able to move up until you were born. These positional changes are what got you dislodged, rather than the mechanical pressure from the outside. Because again, our bodies are made for this.  Within 5 minutes I stood up (with lots of help) and made our way to the comfort of our own bed. To be able to lay there with you and dad, just moments after your birth was priceless, and worth all of the pain. Your cord was still attached, unclamped, just soaking up all of the good blood from the placenta that had yet to be delivered (and wouldn’t be for another hour). There was no rush for anything. We were still. And we were left alone. Which was exactly what we wanted. You nursed for the first time with such ease, I knew you were going to be a good eater. About 30 minutes later, we asked if Monty could come in to meet you. And when I say that his birth was the most joyful day of my life, your arrival, making him a big brother and seeing you guys meet for the first time made my heart explode. It was absolute perfection. About an hour and 15 minutes later, the midwives didn’t like how much I was bleeding, they gave me a shot of Pitocin in in my leg and we delivered the placenta, which you were still attached to. I felt very strongly about not just delayed cord clamping, but waiting until the cord had stopped pulsing and turned white, it was only then that I knew you had gotten all of the good blood from your placenta you could have.  About two hours after delivery, and after your dad held you for the first time, the midwives didn’t your assessment and measurements. This is when it was made known you weighed 9 pounds, 12 ounces, and your head was just about 15 inches in circumference. You were way bigger than I expected. My guess was between 7#14oz and 8#2oz. And you were 21.5 inches long. A big boy to say the least. After your assessment, you ate a little bit more and we made our way out to the Greenhouse. The plants, and bed and twinkly lights made your arrival feel even more magical than it already was. You and me and Monty and dad cuddled for a while before the midwives came in to check on us one last time and head out for the night. We all climbed in bed, turned on Monty’s favorite cartoon, Trash Truck. And went to sleep.