Wow. You’d think somebody would know how to birth a baby by the fifth time. This birth was long. It was unpredictable. It was e x h a u s t i n g. It was wonderful and full of God’s grace and showers of mercy.

And I enjoyed it.

My births have all gone exactly the same way. I go overdue. I get discouraged and impatient and hate the entire universe for a day or two. Then I get fed up. Then I get content. Then I decide I’m ready and start to gently nudge my body into labor. Usually this involves some walking and some herbs. Sometimes the midwife comes to strip my membranes and I generally go into labor on my own about two days after that. Then I get in the tub until contractions are about two minutes apart. This usually takes about two hours. Then I transfer to the birth pool for the big ones. Start vocalizing, the midwife says “Blah blah blah… don’t shoot your baby out so fast this time…blah blah blah….” I say, “Uh- huh.” Then after about two hours in the birth pool I shoot my baby out with a force of nature that I cannot explain.

So, my due date came and went. Christmas came and went. The world celebrated the birth of the King of Kings, and we still waited on our little prince.

Only this entire pregnancy I have felt ambiguous about the birth pool. Which is weird, because water birth is AWESOME. All my other four were born in the water, and I’ve always said I couldn’t imagine why on earth I’d want to do it any other way. But this time, I could not envision myself in that pool. It could be because I had to get a new one and it was different colors from the one I used for the previous four births. But I was not feeling the pool.

So, on Wednesday, December 28th, when I started losing my mucus plug and I could tell I was dilating on my own, I knew a baby was coming in a couple days! And I was thrilled that my body kicked itself into gear for once. By bed time that night I was having some good contractions, but they were sporadic. I got nervous that I wasn’t going to get any sleep.

And then I teased everyone with a facebook status: “The eagle flies at dawn.” Because I was pretty sure that after a good night’s rest, it was on like Donky Kong the next day.

The next morning our back up midwife came and checked me, I was some dilated and thinned and no membranes left to strip. So the order came, take the herbs and go for a nice walk. Enjoy your day. Which I did. I even took a nap at nap time, despite contractions.

During our walk we decided we would name the baby Titus. Titus was not even a name we had considered before. But we went with it.

At some point it occurred to me that I should start timing them so that we’d know when to call our midwife, who is about three hours away. Of course there’s an app for that, and they tracked about every 8-10 minutes.

We decided to go for another walk with a little more herbs. It was dark, cold, and miserable. And I wanted to go home and cry. By the time we got home I was contracting steadily about every five and a half minutes. I got in the tub. I contacted all the appropriate people to be at the ready, and by my timeline I personally guessed we’d have a baby by 11 pm, maybe midnight on the 29th.

Midwife decided to head our way, but not in a hurry. Until contractions increased to every 2-3 minutes. Then she started to hurry. I was feeling a little confused because they were so easy to cope with. But in previous births, the same thing had happened- all but the last few contractions were very bearable. I wasn’t taking anything or doing anything to encourage labor to progress. Just sitting in the tub hanging out. So, it seemed safe for her to come.

Brent started filling the birth pool and I went downstairs to try to move around a bit and keep things going. Everything was exactly like Evelyn’s birth. Even where I was standing when the back up midwife got there. But things felt different to me and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Something was off.

By the time midwife came I had tried to get in the birth pool, but contractions had spaced way way out.

I was laughing and joking with everyone. Brent and I had the same conversation about three times and it was entertaining to everyone, I’m sure.

I was not going to piddle through this all night though, so I got out and Brent and I went for a walk.

It was nice. The stars were so bright and twinkly and we walked and talked, just the two of us. Our relationship has grown so much stronger since the last time that I had a baby, and the difference it made on my labor was remarkable.

But the walk did nothing.

It got late.

I missed my 11 pm personal goal of baby having time.

I felt bad that there were four people staying up late and I had nothing to show for it. (However, I have learned not to let this bother me. They can go home if they want to go home. I’ve made the mistake of forcing myself to stay up late trying to keep labor going, only to exhaust myself, just so that I don’t feel like I’m wasting everyone’s time.)

So we all went to bed. (BOOOOOOOOOOOOO!)

I asked Brent to pray for me and he did.

I think I slept for an hour, but these contractions were so violent and mean. Not the gentle, productive kind I was use to. They started to mingle with my dreams, and it all had something to do with the USPS. Not sure what that was about.

Evie got up in the night and I rocked her back down through the angry contractions.

I felt confused. I walked around while everyone slept. I got in the tub a couple times. I tried to go back to sleep.

It was a very long night.

And I was tired by the time everyone else woke up.

I can’t remember a whole lot of the morning. I was in and out of tub,wandering around the house, having these crazy contractions that did not feel normal. People left to run errands and then came back. My midwife never left me. I love her!!!

We sent the kids to a friend’s house for the morning. Honestly, I really wanted everyone to leave. Things seemed to go well while I was crammed into our tiny bathtub. I did not want Brent to leave me. I wanted everyone else to get out and I wanted to have a baby right there in the bathroom with just Brent.

I am going to guess that I was dilated to about 7 cm by lunch-ish. That sort of information isn’t pertinent or tracked at homebirths much, so that’s just a guess based on how I felt.

I tried to get back into the birth pool, if anything, just to soak my tired body. (All that soaks in our bath tub is pretty much just my bottom and legs.) My arms were so tired from holding myself up over coffee table, countertop, kitchen table, bed, hanging onto window frames for some contractions…

Every time I said it, I promised myself I would at least not say it out loud again. Nobody likes a whiner.

“I’m tired.”

I had no desire for food. I was holding out for my post birth steak and waffles. But they did get some peanut butter toast in me a couple times just to try to keep up my strength.

They ordered a pizza for lunch and I knew what I needed. I needed some rest. I wasn’t sure I was going to get it with the cantankerously obnoxious contractions I was having. But I prayed to God that I could have an hour to sleep.

The kids came home and littles went down for naps. My parents magically appeared and played with the big girls outside.

I crawled into bed and I wanted to die. And according to reports, I sorta looked like death warmed over.

And I slept for exactly one hour.

The next half hour I writhed around trying to figure out what position I needed to be in for these contractions to feel right and productive. I continued to practice my rehearsed lines: “This is going to be over with soon. I can do all things. I am fearfully made to do this. This is going to be over with soon…”

I felt better after the nap, and looked a little less death-ish. I stayed in my room. I like it in there and had cleaned it about fifty times in the last two weeks. Maybe I had known all along this was where I wanted to give birth. Midwife came in and out just checking on me.

She knows when to stay out of the way, and I am ever.so.grateful. I went from tub to bed to tub to bed. Brent faithfully stayed by my side. I asked him to pray for me again, for strength and mercy and no fear. And he did. =)

I started vocalizing in the tub. Loud enough that midwife came trotting up the stairs every time. Once I shouted, “WHOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAH BUDDY” like a big black woman. Brent snickered. I think I went to 9 cm at that point. Something major had shifted and now the contractions were feeling normal and productive, like they are supposed to. I finally had something to work with!

All those sweet birth attendants got the birth pool ready for me. Again.

But lions don’t birth in water. No ma’am. They birth on all fours with a mighty roar. And I was feeling the lioness start to emerge.

I have never given birth on dry land before. I can tell you one thing. The contractions SUCK out of the water. But nothing was going to convince me to get back into that birth pool. Even the nice hot water beckoning to me was not enough. Every time I had gotten into that thing in the last two days, my labor had fizzled. Midwife said she was really sure that was not going to happen this time.

I still insisted. I felt safe in my room and that is where I wanted to be. I was bearing down with each contraction, but not pushing. And I could not figure out how in the heck to birth a baby outside of the water. Where should I go? On the floor? On the bed? Standing up hanging onto the dresser? I decided on the bed. Seemed like a soft place for baby to land.

Brent snatched a shower curtain liner off of one of our showers and they lined the bed with it quickly.

I gripped the bed and announced that I was afraid I was going to poop right there on the floor. But what came out was a girly little poot that made me laugh. There I was, surrounded by people, farting and laughing. Uncharacteristic of me, in case you didn’t know.

I even smiled  during a couple of those last contractions, but I hid my face so it was just my secret.

Midwife checked me and said I was good to go. Push when I felt my body wanted to. This was weird, because with my water births I sort of just let contractions do their thing and waited for my water to break. Then we all knew that after that water breaks, my baby is coming out with the next contraction. On dry land was different.

I pretty much looked at the midwife and asked her to tell me what to do. HA! I just wanted to do whatever was most productive towards getting that baby out before I got tired again.

Midwife said if I got on all fours that would probably be the fastest way but that I could do whatever I wanted. What I wanted was to be done, so I got on all fours. Like a lioness. 

They brought my big girls in.

I pushed and shouted like a birth warrior and my water bag burst out on the bed. All clear, no meconium.

And I said, “That felt really great!” And boy howdy, did it.

Everyone knows how I work by now. Baby was coming out with the next contraction.

It was decided Brent would catch.

{Sigh. I love that man.}

As we waited for the next contractions, midwives reminded me that I was not going to rapidly eject this baby like I always do. I was going to push the head out, and pant. Blah Blah Blah.

Yeah. WHAT-EVER! (Sorry, y’all. But I was ready to be done. I just don’t know how to calmly push a baby’s head out and then pant. It just ain’t my style. But I appreciate midwives that don’t want me to tear. Nothing but love for them.)

I pushed and I did not stop pushing. They told me to stop and rest so I didn’t tear.

“I DON’T CARE IF I TEAR. JUST.GET.HIM.OUT!” That’s about all I had to say about that.

Little body wriggled and flailed right out and into his Daddy’s arms while all three birth attendants held me down. Apparently I was clawing and crawling my way across the bed. Best feeling in the world. He cried right away and they passed him under me so I could hold him.

Since I learned my lesson last time, I had been faithfully taking 18 alfalfa tabs a day, and chlorophyll in my water for the last three days. And I did not lose a drop of blood.

Titus latched on right away. Little kids were brought in to see their new brother!

Once the cord stopped pulsing, Ezra got to cut it.

He was so nonchalant about it and when he was done announced that he was going down stairs for pizza. Tough guy.

Placenta came nicely, and still no blood loss.

I felt great, got in the shower. Brent was on shower duty, pestering me about how I felt and reminding me I couldn’t be in there for too long. (It’s a running joke with us and midwife.)

We quickly moved on to post birth activity- weighing, laughing, cooing, etc.

Tiny little toot- he weighed in at only 8 pounds 14 ounces. No wonder he took so long. The bigger babies just fall right out of ya, but these small squirts take some work.

Baby Titus is loved by all and welcomed into the family by all of his siblings, and especially Mamma and Daddy.

Baby Titus. Born 6 pm, December 30, 2011