Ezra
is 5 weeks old today. It has taken me this long to be able to write
his birth story for a few reasons. One, life with 10 children is a
little bit busy and two, it wasn't my dream birth. Not to mention my
choice to be autonomous with both my pregnancies and births by doing
my own self care and deliveries comes under much scrutiny. So many
things about birth are uncontrollable and unpredictable. It leaves
one feeling pretty vulnerable at times. Anyways, back to Ezra's
birth.
A
week before his birth I began having some uncomfortable contractions.
This was different for me since I usually don't have discomfort with
them unless I'm in labor. On top of that I also started losing a lot
of mucus, too, and the only time that had happened while not in labor
was with my last pregnancy and I went into labor two days later. But
no. Not this time. My body decided to give me uncomfortable
contractions and lots of mucus all week. Oh the anticipation and
aggravation of not knowing. That and the middle of the night dance
parties hosted by my “octopus”, as I affectionately called him,
wore on my mental and physical state.
Two
days before his birth I had contractions on and off regularly.
All.Day.Long. Of course that repeated the day before he was born,
too. *sigh* So, on the day he was born and said pattern started again
I had visions of baby never being born and me being in a state of
perpetual psych-out labor. Christina, my friend and doula, was
checking up on me regularly. Of course I didn't know what to tell her
besides, “I really don't know what's going on.” I didn't want to
have her come over if it wasn't the real deal. I was
hoping/expecting a quick labor and wanted her to be sure she made it
in time. Did I also mention I was expecting a girl? Yeah. I wasn't
right about that either. Lol
Christina
had found a track from Hypnobirth called “Come Out Baby” and
asked me if I wanted to try it. I had been curious about Hypnobirth
anyways so I thought I'd give it a try. There I was that afternoon
relaxing and talking to Rivka
and telling her it was
okay if she came out
if she was ready.
Yeah, despite this blaring mistake he
decided to come out that day anyway. I didn't feel or sense anything
different, but I was more relaxed. My body kept doing what it had
been doing the previous week. More labor. More contractions. But no
changes. Later that afternoon things kinda
felt like they were getting into more of a pattern. I still wasn't
calling Christina. I figured my body was still just faking me out.
I
kept mostly to myself that afternoon as to not allow my irritation to
bother anyone else and to help stay more grounded. I used my
essential oils to help in this and drank some Labor Aid that I had
made up for labor in case the contractions were just from being
dehydrated. Things seemed to get slightly more exciting around 5:30,
so I decided to call Christina, but I made sure to tell her that I
still wasn't sure if this was really it or how long she'd actually
have to stick around. Of course she didn't mind, but I hate putting
people out.
By
the time Christina arrived around 6:15ish I knew I was definitely in
labor, but things were still spread out and progressing slowly
compared to my last birth. Tom, Christina, and I talked, laughed,
relaxed, and just rode the waves of this season. Labor went on
uneventful. I mostly sat until I felt the wave come on and then I
would get on my knees or stand and lean over something or someone
through it. This went on slowly building throughout the evening. We
called another friend who had requested to be there for my labor to
come around 8:00. She arrived shortly after. Her job was to take
pictures. She also did some massage on my back which felt great until
things got pretty intense. Christina and Tom were there like my rock
any time I needed them.
Around
11:15ish things were so intense that I just kept feeling like I would
lose my mind from the pain. Everything before that was tolerable. I
impatiently asked for someone to get me my Aconite homeopath because
I could just tell I would need it to get through the rest of this
journey. I went into the bathroom to use the bathroom again for the
millionth time and felt desperate to be done with this crazy ride. Of
course Tom just looked at me helplessly and acknowledged my feelings.
By then I knew I wasn't going to be going anywhere else since the
waves were coming right on top of one another. My plan, since it
worked out so nicely last time, was to birth on the toilet. It helped
me to relax my bottom and made for very little clean up. Yeah, I
know. But I hate
messes, even if I don't have to clean them up. I was really hoping
and wishing my water would just break since I sensed this would be
over soon if it did (not that I was right about anything else thus
far).
Minutes
later my water splashed out sounding like a giant water balloon
hitting the floor. Not long after that I could feel that dreaded and
welcomed feeling of pressure that only a giant Nitz melon could
bring. I thought I might just sit over on the toilet and relax
allowing that fetal ejection reflex to kick in like before allowing
my baby to be gently and easily born into the world. Nope. Not going
to happen. It felt like torture. Okay. How about squatting? Yeah. No.
Not going to happen. Anything other than standing slightly leaned
over felt like torture.
It
was my plan to catch my own baby. The one that I grew.
In my body. It only
made sense to me that I
would be the one whose hands would guide her (Ha!)
into the world. I reached down and could feel a hairy head. Yay! This
would be over soon. As my body told me to push and more head came
forth I realized that I have T-Rex arms and would not be catching my
own baby. During this pushing time I felt such a struggle going on
inside me. It just really felt different. I wanted, needed
to get this baby out. I looked at Tom who was sitting on the side of
the tub in our tiny bathroom and told him he was going to have to
catch the baby. He looked at me calmly and then looked at Christina
who was standing behind me and told her that there is no way he can
get over there and that she was going to have to catch the baby.
Yeah, I don't care. Someone
catch the baby please. Baby Rivka,er Ezra was born into Christina's
hands at 11:53 a.m. She quickly handed me this slimy, floppy human
who had a huge meconium bowel movement all over himself and me.
Time
stood still while my heart went into a panic. My baby felt lifeless
in my arms and as I looked down at him he was not moving at all, had
no muscle tone, and was very pale except for his purple head. I
squatted down looking at him. I rubbed him with a towel and prayed
that my baby was okay. I had never experienced this before. I also
noticed that I was bleeding a lot and passed 3 pretty big blood
clots. Baby Ezra perked up, opened his eyes, and started crying. I
knew then that he would be fine, but I was losing too much blood. In
my mind I knew at some point during delivery my placenta had to have
partially detached compromising his oxygen a bit and must be what was
causing this bleeding. I did what I knew to do to increase oxytocin;
held my baby skin to skin, smelled his beautiful head, and prayed.
I
started feeling lightheaded and knew this placenta needed to come out
now. There was blood everywhere. Tom just kept asking for towels to
mop up the blood. I asked for cayenne pepper to help stop the
bleeding. I handed Ezra over to Tom. I was feeling too weak to hold
him. Next I asked for some Angelica to release the placenta and
squatted. The placenta came pretty quickly after that. I was still
bleeding but not as bad. My brain was pretty foggy at this point and
I was just trying not to pass out. All I could think of was, “I'm
covered in blood and birth goo. I don't want to have to call 911.”
lol At this point Christina asked if I wanted the Shepherd’s Purse.
I was glad she reminded me of it since I was having to concentrate so
very hard to stay conscious. The bleeding finally stopped. I knew I
was no longer in danger.
Now
to make it into the tub to clean both of us up a bit. Somehow I
managed to get in long enough to wash Ezra and I up. My
brain was still quite fuzzy during this time and I felt very out of
breath. Christina sat by my side keeping a watchful eye on us while
Tom cleared the floor of the blood and towels. Things are pretty
fuzzy from this point on, but I somehow made it into bed with my
baby. We were both going to be okay.
Now,
many people may read this and say that this is why they want to be in
a hospital and that homebirth isn't safe. Everyone is entitled to
their own opinion. I would have to say that I wouldn't change where I
birthed. My baby was brought safely, gently, and in love into this
world. No one panicked while I was in labor from a drop in fetal
heart tones. No one scared me that my baby would die if I didn't
birth him in their time. No one rushed me into a surgical birth that
would permanently damage my body and make my recovery incredibly long
and hard compared to the birth that I had. My baby was not robbed of
the plethora of benefits from having a natural physiological birth. I
take responsibility for my pregnancies and births with much thought,
research, and prayer. I am grateful for the knowledge that I have
gathered over the years. I am grateful I was home.
 |
| Ezra McCormick weighed in at 10.3 lbs. and was 23 inches long. |
 |
| Ezra at 5 days old |
 |
| Ezra at 10 days old |
 |
| Grabbing hold of the tzit tziot |
