The seeds of my homebirth were planted shortly after the birth of Michael in September 1998. Despite the fact that it was filled with interventions, I was highly medicated, and we were at the mercy of many tedious hospital routines, I found his birth completely life changing and I thought about it constantly. I started reading about birth on the internet and found a number of sites that introduced me to the concept of homebirth. At first I thought "What a wonderful idea for everyone else, but not for me" but as I also began to read about typical American hospital births and how uneccessary many routine interventions are - including most of the interventions I experienced - I began to see how homebirth, assuming my pregnancy was healthy, would be the way to have the kind of birth I wanted to have the next time. Many women have successful, low-intervention births in a hospital, but I did not want to have to defend my choices while laboring and so decided that homebirth was the way to go for us.

I did quite a bit of research and reading about homebirth before I got pregnant, including searching out lay midwives in the metro area, so as soon as I was pregnant I hired a wonderful and experienced midwife named Debi. My prenatal care, which was done at either her house or mine, included some things I had done during my first OB-managed pregnancy, namely urine and blood-pressure checks, weight and fundal height checks, but did not include others - ultrasound, triple-screen test, amniocentesis, gestational diabetes test, or beta-strep test. My prenatal visits also followed the typical obstetrician’s schedule - monthly until seven months, bi-weekly until nine months, then weekly until birth.

Michael was born eight days past his due date and as I got within a few weeks of my due date this time I did not have the feeling that this baby would be very late. I experienced an intense nesting urge and cooked, cleaned and stocked up on essentials. I felt prepared for the birth and looked forward to using all the relaxation techniques I had practiced for so many months.

My due date came and went as I expected, but as I got to 41 weeks I began to feel anxious. I saw Debi at 41 weeks, 3 days. I had been thinking about asking to have my membranes stripped to start labor, and in fact was kind of counting on it, but at the prenatal, I came to feel that Debi was not in favor of doing it - she said "I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve stripped membranes." I knew she was right and that it was too soon to go that route, but I still felt crushed. We continued to talk during my appointment but all of a sudden she said "are you okay? You look weepy." I started crying and she came and hugged me. I said that I felt like I was under a lot of pressure to go ahead and have this baby. I asked her if she would check me for progress and she said she would. It turned out that I was 1-2 fingertips dilated, 50% effaced, baby was at -1 station. She said "I can feel the baby’s head" and I felt reassured that all was OK. Everything else checked out OK too. So I made an appointment to see her the next Tuesday, which would be at 42 weeks, 3 days, not really thinking I’d have to keep it - surely I wouldn’t go beyond 42 weeks!

So much for that! 42 weeks was the coming Saturday and by Thursday night I felt no different at all so we started walking. Lee pushed Michael in the jog stroller and we covered miles - Piedmont Park, Fernbank Forest, Freedom Parkway, all over Decatur and Oakhurst. Sunday was Mother’s Day and I felt no closer to labor, even after all the walking we’d done. We walked early that afternoon to the library, then to Winona Park playground. I think it was on that walk that Lee said "I’m not going back to work until this baby is born." I felt a tremendous amount of pressure low in my pelvis but nothing that felt at all like a contraction, other than Braxton-Hicks contractions. Knowing how Debi had felt about stripping my membranes earlier in the week I felt hesitant to call her and ask to see her sooner than scheduled, but I finally did on Sunday afternoon, at 42 weeks and a day. When I called, she said she’d JUST been trying to call me, that she’d been over my chart, had been thinking of me and wondering if she should call and offer to try to get things started. She asked what kind of natural labor stimulators I’d been trying and I listed them all. She said she felt like everything was fine, but that she was getting concerned about the size of the baby. We decided she’d come see me and strip my membranes the next day (Monday) to see if we could get labor started.

Monday morning I woke with a great sense of anticipation. Membrane stripping at 41 weeks had started labor with Michael, and I had high hopes it would work now. That morning when Michael got in bed with us I said something to him like "are you ready to meet the new baby?" and he said tearfully "I’m not ready to be big."

I made one last trip to the grocery store that morning. The checkout lady said the typical things like "honey, are you going to have that baby right here?" and "how much weight have you gained?"  While trying to remain polite, I had to bag my own groceries while keeping an eye on Michael. When I got home, I realized that in my distraction I had left a bag of groceries at the store. Lee - bless him - offered to take Michael and go back and get them. Debi arrived at noon and gave me a hug. She said "you look cheerful!" and said "Well, I’m thinking I’m going to get to have a baby soon!" She did the standard prenatal. While she was listening to the heartbeat, she said "all I hear is your stomach" and I couldn’t stop giggling. Then she checked my cervix and said I was 3 cm dilated and stretchy, 80% effaced, baby at -1 station, which was progress since the previous week. She strippped my membranes using a little evening primrose oil although she said "the bag is already separated from your cervix." She also left blue and black cohosh tinctures with instructions on how to use them if I thought I needed them. She gave me a hug before she left and we wondered if we’d be seeing each other again soon!

The rest of the afternoon I puttered around, then took a nap with Michael, waiting to feel something. I remember feeling really irritated with him because he wanted to put his legs across me and I couldn’t stand anything touching my belly. Brenda, who was to be Michael’s labor support person, decided to go ahead and come up from Macon in hopes that labor would start.

That afternoon there was a brief, hard rainstorm, then after the rain ended it was very windy and cool, my favorite kind of weather. I thought "Tonight would be a great night to have a baby!" As the afternoon waned I noted that I was beginning to feel strong sensations of pressure, like being squeezed, very low. I also noticed a bit of pink-tinged mucus when I used the bathroom. The squeezing sensations were not painful, just mildly uncomfortable, but I welcomed the opportunity to practice my breathing. A couple of times I said that I felt *something* but I wasn’t sure what is was, and a couple of times Lee mentioned using the cohoshes, but I said I wanted to wait.  I didn't want to use them unless things stopped completely.  Lee made spaghetti for dinner and I was kind of hungry but didn’t want to eat much, lest labor really get started - I didn’t want to throw a big meal of spaghetti back up. We cleaned up and I tried to see if these sensations were coming with any regularity. Sometimes they came one right after the other, sometimes they came half an hour apart. I tried to tell myself that even if labor didn’t start tonight, SURELY it would be soon. Debi called to check on me and to say that she was going to the movies - if I needed her, to page her. I told her that I had seen a tiny bit of bloody show earlier. Brenda and I sat in the living room chatting while Lee bathed Michael and once I had to tell her "don’t make me laugh! I can’t relax!" as I was still practicing relaxation through the feeling of pressure. Throughout the evening I had been trying to time these sensations, but they were so irregular I couldn’t keep up with them.

About 9:00 I noticed more pink-tinged mucus. I was still experiencing the strong squeezing sensations, so I decided to take a shower and get in bed. In the shower, I found that I needed to sway my hips back and forth during the sensations. I began to feel sure that this was really it!! Because of this, we decided to put Michael to bed downstairs with Brenda so that we wouldn’t disturb him during the night. When I got out of the shower I decided to go ahead and put on a sports bra, which I knew I wanted to wear in the tub. I brought some cd’s upstairs thinking I might want them during labor (I didn’t). I think I also did some neatening up in the bathroom and bedroom.

Again I started timing these squeezing sensations and noted that they were still coming quite irregularly, so I read for a few minutes, then we fell asleep about 10:30. I woke up around midnight because the intense pressure in my pelvis made it hard to get comfortable. I sat up in bed cross-legged, propped against pillows, and by a flashlight timed and wrote down the frequency of what I finally knew were contractions.

It wasn’t long before I had to get out of bed and move around. I knelt backwards in the armchair in our room and swayed my hips and breathed; I paced back and forth, leaning against the dresser during contractions; I went into Michael’s room and bent over, holding the foot of his bed. I really wanted to relax, but at the same time I could not be still. The contractions were coming anywhere from every four minutes to every eleven minutes. I paced back and forth in our bedroom during one contraction and finally said to Lee "I need you to be with me. Can you get up?" He was out of bed like a shot and I asked him to time a few contractions. They were three to six minutes apart, lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a minute and a half. He asked if I wanted to call Debi, but I said I was afraid it was too soon. He watched me work through a few contractions and without saying anything else, he picked up the phone and called her. As he was doing that, I went to the bathroom and had a bowel movement. It was about 1:20 am.

The contractions became really intense and I thought about getting in our garden tub which I had long fantasized about laboring in. However, I knew that getting in too early could slow things down so I thought I’d wait until Debi arrived. I continued to move around, leaning against Lee during some contractions. I also tried, in between contractions, to help him strip the bed and put on the sheets I had sanitized for the birth. I felt like I was going deep into myself, in a place where I wasn’t aware of much other than the contractions and my efforts to relax and breathe. It seemed that Debi appeared in our bedroom out of thin air, although I have the vaguest memory of Lee looking out the window and saying "Debi is here." All of a sudden I turned around and she was there in the bedroom, with my chart in her hand asking "have you moved your bowels?" and I thought "OK, time for the tub." Lee went to fill it up for me but somehow, he didn’t get the water very hot. I got in, then got right back out, wondering what the problem was. I was able to get plenty of hot water from the sink so I asked Lee to please try again.. He turned on the hot water all the way and he and Debi went downstairs and put several pots of water on the stove to heat. When the tub was finally full, I got in and Debi listened to the baby’s heart with the Doppler, the first time she’d used it on me. We turned off all the lights in the bathroom, except for the light in the room where the toilet was. Debi put a rolled towel behind my neck and I floated, semi-reclining, in the tub, with Lee sitting on a low stool at my head. Debi sat with me through a few contractions, then she said she was going to lay down in the bedroom.

For the next two hours, I lay in that tub with Lee stroking my hair. I only moved to turn on the hot water briefly, to squeeze hot water over my belly with a washcloth, or to take a drink of water. Lee got up occasionally to pour a pot of hot water into the tub. I kept my eyes closed almost the entire time. Lee said later I was someplace where no one else could go. The contractions were incredibly intense - almost overwhelming pressure, plus a strong crampy feeling. I began to moan using a low-pitched "mmmmmm" or "mmmmmm-ohhhhhh" sound, getting louder as the contraction peaked, then getting softer and exhaling as it subsided. Sometimes I just breathed, using no sound. At one point Debi suggested "blowing away" the tension and I found that helpful too, although I mostly moaned. I dozed in between contractions and would wake, finding that I was still "mmmmmmmmmm"-ing softly. The vibration that my voice made in my throat was a focus point for the tension. Sometimes I had two contractions in a row with no break, but those second contractions were not as difficult to get through, which helped me feel more confident. For awhile, I also focused on the thought of all the women before me who had done this very same thing and I found the thought very comforting. During the most intense contractions, I felt very hot and nauseous, and as the contraction subsided the hot water felt wonderful again.

However, I got to a point where I felt like I was struggling to the peak of each contraction. I would take a deep breath as it started, then felt like I was so tense I could not release it. I began to think that I couldn’t make it. I wondered if there were any possibility of going to the hospital for drugs, then realized that getting there would be excruciating. I felt kind of hopeless at that thought. However, I also realized that this probably meant I was near or in transition. I called for Debi to please come talk to me, and said "Tell me I can do it." She came and sat with me, listened to the heart tones, and helped me through the contractions. I said something like "I keep thinking I can’t do it, I can’t relax." Once she said to visualize a flower opening slowly and I said "I can’t think that, it hurts too much." I said to Lee and Debi, "please tell me I can do it". As I worked through more contractions, in order to psych myself up, I said "I can do this. I can do this." They said "You can do it. You are doing it."

Eventually I decided I wanted to change position to see if relaxing would be easier, although I was afraid the contractions would be harder to handle out of the water. As I labored through the last few contractions in the tub, I felt a different contraction, one that seemed to move from my lower back through my rectum, as if something was about to push out my bottom. Shortly after this Lee helped me out of the tub, I wrapped myself in a towel and I lay on my left side on the bed. At this point Lee took the only photo of my labor, because after that I would not let him leave me to go back to the camera. As I lay there, I felt something warm ooze from between my legs and I said I thought my water broke. I heard Debi say "the waters are clear" although what it was that came out was the forewaters in part of the bag, open at the top, which explained why I didn’t actually feel a gush of anything. Debi told me later the only other time she’d ever seen the waters come out in the forebag, the baby was breech, and she thought she’d better check for little feet!

Right after this I felt another one of the contractions I’d had in the tub and I shouted "I think I’ve gotta poop!" Debi said "That’s perfectly all right, you go right ahead." However, I never did and now I know what I was feeling was the urge to push, something I was too drugged to feel with Michael. Debi checked me and said I was complete and I could try pushing if I wanted. I think all I was able to do was say "no" and struggle to relax. I heard her hurry to the phone to call Gaye, her backup, and say "She's at ten.  Can you come?"

From this point some things are blurry as my existence seemed to dwindle to nothing more than the urge to push that I thought was going to split me apart. I guess I lay on the bed working through contractions, not making any effort to push, although I had pushing contractions. I don’t remember much of this time. I had heard that pushing feels good, but I didn’t think so although it was sort of a relief to be doing something productive, and it was also a relief not to struggle to relax anymore. Gaye arrived and Debi asked me if I wanted to push on my side. I said no. They helped me turn over and semi-recline, which was incredibly hard to do through the overwhelming pressure in my bottom. I pushed there for a little while, Lee holding one leg, Gaye or me holding the other. Debi gently coached my pushing, telling me to start with each contraction. She had her finger above my perineum and would say as I began to push "push to here." As I felt one come on, I would give a little push, then my uterus took over with a force that I could not believe. I made the "mmmmm" sound constantly as I pushed. After each push I relaxed, my arms and legs shaking. The brief rest felt so good but I wondered how I would gather any strength for the next contraction. They encouraged me by saying that they could see dark hair and Debi asked if I wanted to reach down and touch the head. I couldn’t even answer and she took my hand and helped me to feel the top of the head. I think at this point I began shaking uncontrollably and asked for some Rescue Remedy, which Gaye dropped under my tongue. After a while, they asked if I wanted to squat and I said no, I’d rather sit on the birth stool, which looked like a padded, tubular metal chair with no seat. I sat on the stool, Debi sat right in front of me, and I rested my head on her shoulder. My arms were so tired I could hardly support myself. Sitting on the stool with nothing under my bottom really intensified the pushing urge. The feeling of pressure was becoming unbearable as I continued to push - not just in my bottom, but all over. I said at one point I thought my head was going to explode. I said "my ears are ringing" and they asked if I was hyperventilating. I said no, that I thought it was because I was pushing so hard. As each push became something beyond anything I had control over, so did my vocalizing. I put my chin to my chest and groaned and grunted from somewhere deep inside me with each push. Debi said "You’re doing it, your pushing is moving the baby under your pubic bone." I said "I’m not doing it." She said "yes, you are!" I said "My uterus is doing all the work."

It was while I was on the birth stool that the baby crowned and the sensation was like nothing I could ever have imagined. I’m not sure the term "ring of fire" adequately describes it because it was more than just a ring. Everything burned! The feeling of my baby coming from my body and the stretching that took place to accommodate it was indescribable. I cried out and shouted "Get this baby OUT OF ME!!" I grabbed Debi around the shoulders and she reminded me not to tense up, to keep my upper body relaxed and push. I fought to keep from hyperventilating. Between pushes they quickly moved me back to the bed, propped on pillows. Once there, I pushed harder than I have ever done anything in my entire life. At one point I looked up at Lee and said "Do you think you will still love me after this?" as I felt like I was completely out of control. He stroked my hair and told me how great I was doing and how proud he was. I also remember thinking at this point "I am so hungry!" Gaye was holding one leg for me as I was so tired I couldn’t hold it myself and I begged her "please don’t let go." Debi massaged almond oil onto my perineum in between pushes. As I pushed in this position my legs and hips started to cramp and Gaye dropped some calcium tincture under my tongue.

Someone asked me "Are you going to beat the sunrise?" I couldn’t believe that it was nearly day. After several more pushes, I heard Debi say "The head is out!" and I felt a huge relief. As his head came out, I tore at the site of my old episiotomy. Debi said that they saw the baby grimace as blood ran across his face.

I had always thought that once the head was out, the rest of the body followed like a bar of soap slipping from your hands, but that wasn’t the case. Lee said they were all amazed at the size of the head and the huge, chubby cheeks on the baby and they knew that it was a big one. So as Debi maneuvered the shoulders, I kept on pushing. She said later that when she saw the size of the head, she was just a tad concerned about shoulder dystocia. Just as I was sure I had no more strength, the baby slid out, followed by a huge gush of fluid that soaked Debi. I heard her say "Kayla! Take your baby!" A bloody, slippery body was placed on my chest, a couple of warm towels were thrown on, and it was over. It was five minutes before six on May 14, seventeen days past my due date.

As I lay there, limp with exhaustion and relief, I looked into the wide eyes of my baby and felt an instant rush of love. He cried very briefly, then lay looking into my eyes. Lee lay next to me on the bed and we whispered "Hey, sweet baby! Welcome to the world!" After a minute Lee thought to ask, boy or girl? and they said "We didn’t look - daddy gets to look." So he lifted the towels, peeked between the legs, and said "We’ve got us another boy!" I held him close and said "Sweet baby Will! We are so glad you’ve come!" I offered him my breast but he only sniffed and licked it, content to just lay there. I remember apologizing to Debi for getting soaked with fluid and she said "that’s all right, this is why I carry a change of clothes."

The cord stopped pulsating within fifteen minutes or so and Debi clamped it, then Lee cut it. I didn’t think I was even going to be able to find the strength to push the placenta out, but I did. Debi encouraged me saying "no bones!" She looked it over, noting that it was huge and that there was a velamentous insertion. Its size, and the size of the placental site in my uterus, explained why I was losing a good bit of blood. Then she checked and said I had two tears, my old episiotomy and a labial tear. She numbed me and stitched the episiotomy tear. I was so sore and exhausted and asked her several times "is this going to hurt?" although I knew the needle stick would be nothing compared to what I felt when Will crowned! While she was stitching, Lee sat in the chair next to the bed and held Will, who pooped his first meconium poop on Lee and the towels he was wrapped in. I think Gaye left after the stitching was finished. I wanted to get up and shower, but I felt too faint. I bled so much that Debi and Lee moved me off my sanitized post-birth sheets so they could put another fresh set on.

Afterward, someone brought me some juice and a washcloth to wipe all the blood off my arms and chest. Debi said she was going downstairs to do some paperwork and to give us some time alone. Lee got in bed with me and we just stared at Will and each other. Brenda brought Michael in to meet his new brother. I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of happiness I had - I was in my own bed, the morning sun was streaming through the windows, and I was surrounded by my family while I held my new son in my arms. It was absolute bliss. It felt so right.

Debi came back up shortly to do the newborn exam and it was then we found out just HOW big Will was - he weighed 12 pounds, 2 ounces, measured 24 and 3/4 inches long, and had a sixteen inch head! When she called out his weight, I could not believe it! Lee threw his arms up and laughed in elation and disbelief. Baby Will - big, beautiful, healthy, and perfect in every way.

Before Debi left, she said she wanted me to empty my bladder, and because I felt so faint, I sat over a trash bag on the birth stool to try to do it. I rested my head on the arm of the chair because I was so tired and shaky. I never had the urge, even though someone ran the water in the bathroom to try and help me along. I finally got back in bed without having gone. Debi left between 9:30 and 10:00 and Lee and I laid down with Will for a while. Before long, I did have to use the bathroom so Lee helped me up. I barely made it into the bathroom before I had to sit on the edge of the tub and put my head between my knees. I did not think I was going to make it to the toilet, but I did, and I peed (OUCH!). I kept my head between my knees the whole time but the roaring in my ears got louder and louder and I felt like I was on the verge of fainting. I asked Lee to scoot the bathroom rug over in front of me, and he did, and I just dropped off the toilet onto the rug and laid there. I never thought laying on the bathroom floor would feel so good. After I laid there for a little while, I half-scooted, half-crawled back to the bedroom, stopping several times to put my head down. Lee helped me back onto the bed, where I stayed the rest of the day, just gazing at baby Will’s sweet sleeping face, and trying to process what I'd just experienced.

There haven't been many days in this past year that I have not thought about Will's birth and thought "Was that me?  Did I really give birth to a twelve-pound baby with no pain medication??"  The physical and emotional challenges of his birth were not things I had ever believed myself capable of handling before I actually had to handle them!  It's still amazing to me that I gave birth to Will in the privacy and comfort of my home, with only my midwives and my husband beside me, supporting me and encouraging me.  I wish every woman could experience birth the way I did because it has changed me for the better, as a person and as a mother. I'm also totally convinced that the birth experience has a direct effect on how a woman bonds with her baby; I felt connected to him the moment we looked into each others' eyes, about fifteen seconds after he emerged. That connection has guided me to parent him in the most attached way I can, because my feelings for him would not allow me to do otherwise. After Michael's birth, I felt detached from him for several weeks and have always wished that I could get that precious time back.  

Homebirth rocks!