Seth's Birth in a Type-Size You Can Actually Read

From the moment I learned that I was pregnant with Seth, I began to consider a home birth. I'm a passionate believer in the benefits of educated natural childbirth, and Jade had been born in a birth center, drug-free, so this was the next logical step for me. There were, however, a few snags. We would be moving during my 7th month of pregnancy, and to my father-in-law's home. While this gave us an actual home, instead of an apartment, to birth in, it was still someone else's home. Greg talked to his dad, though, and got the ok. Major hurdle leaped. The next obstacle was the fact that Greg would be unemployed by then, and we had no insurance. We would have to pay for the midwife out of pocket (no insurance policy would take me on, since I was already pregnant. That just seems wrong to me). It was very difficult, but with some help from my mom, and some serious penny-pinching, we did it. The help from my mom was a double blessing, because when I first mentioned to her that we were planning a home birth, she freaked out. She talked to her (old-fashioned) gynecologist, who eased her mind by telling her that I could come see him if anything went wrong, and that he would "let me try it" without drugs. Let me? Hah! But that's a conversation/rant for another day. Long story short, by being educated on my facts and figures, and calmly (and repeatedly) presenting them to my mother, I won her over. To the point that she was present at Seth's birth. Taking pictures. Seth Gabriel was estimated to be due on October 2nd, but October 2nd came and went with only minor Braxton-Hicks contractions. This was no big deal, at first, since Jade was born a week past her due date, and that's pretty average with babies. Also, I had had what I think were weak contractions about 4 weeks prior. They scared the bejeezus out of me, but sipping a glass of truly horrible red wine made them go away and the rest of the pregnancy went smoothly, if a little long for my tastes. I finally went into labor on a Friday evening, October 17th, 15 days overdue now. I had considered taking castor oil by that point, and had even procured a couple bottles, but they ended up being completely unnecessary. When the contractions started at 10 minutes apart, I was home alone except for my two-year-old daughter. It's not a good idea to go into labor when you're alone with a two year old, but I managed somehow to call my husband, my mother and my midwife, vacuum and sweep and straighten up the bedroom between contractions, while my husband drove home from his LAN gaming evening with the guys. (He had been staying home with me constantly, and I finally told him to have a night out, since I was obviously going to be pregnant forEVER.) It was difficult to give the midwife directions from Waterford, my brain was fuzzy and I could barely answer simple questions. But I somehow managed to get her there ok. My mom arrived first and distracted Jade from climbing on me during contractions. Then Greg got home, and a little later Charlotte arrived. I spent the early contractions on my hands and knees because it felt good, much like I did with Jade's birth. Jade would get down beside me and groan like I was doing, then she would rub my back and say "Mommy not feeling well." Such a little darling.

By the time Greg got home, the contractions were pretty close together, about 3 minutes. I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees, Greg rubbing my back. As labor progressed, it got more intense than I remember Jade's birth being. I had to crawl to the bathroom on my hands and knees to use the toilet; even the thought of walking was just too much for me. I started to feel panic during contractions, this horrible, overwhelming feeling of being completely lost and out of control. I was convinced that I was going to die. The only thing that got me through those contractions was my mental mantra, "Open, open, open, open...." and Greg. Keeping eye contact with him somehow kept me anchored. The man didn't even blink. He sat with me through every contraction, either holding my hand or touching my leg so that I could stay grounded. When I said that I would die, he reassured me that I wouldn't. When I felt that overwhelming urge to push or explode, but I couldn't because I had a cervical lip, Greg got me through it. He missed one contraction due to having to use the bathroom, and my mom took his place. She did wonderfully, but she wasn't Greg, she wasn't my foundation and rock. It's hard to explain how I surrendered my well-being, my whole life to him during that labor, but it was a beautiful thing. Mom got a great picture of us, during a contraction, and you can see it on our faces: my fear and my trust, and my complete belief in him, and his steadiness and love and strength. I really should have that picture framed.

Just like with Jade, I fell asleep just before the pushing stage, and the contractions spaced way out. I remember hearing vague conversations of concern during both births, but I know it was just my body giving me a much-needed break, and getting me ready for the next part. Looking back on the births, I am so glad I wasn't in a hospital either time. That break would have been construed as something harmful, and I'm sure the doctors would have been worried. But things turned out perfectly, so there's no need to dwell on that.

When I was finally pushing Seth out, I got mad. Really mad. To the point where I screamed, in front of the midwife, her assistant, and my own mother, "I HATE these $%&*!# contractions!" Then I pushed way harder than I should have and tore. I heard Charlotte and my mother telling me not to push for a moment, the cord was around the baby's neck. I held on as best I could, and I'm sure I was squeezing Greg's hand the whole time, but then I could push again, and the moment of birth had arrived. My mom had wanted to catch Seth, but Charlotte couldn't get her attention, my mother was so busy snapping pictures. So Charlotte said, "Carrie, reach down and catch your baby," and I did. What an amazing moment. I picked up my little boy, only halfway born, and pulled him up to my chest, cuddled him close, crying with happiness, and my husband by my side. Mom went into the next room and got Jade, who was concerned about the blood at first, but quickly overcame that to look at her new brother. It was so... beautiful seems to flat of a word to use. There's nothing like it. A new person was in the room, someone who wasn't in our world only moments before. That moment passed and now we had our son. Our little Seth.

One of my favorite moments after the birth (which took 8 hours, half the time of Jade's birth), was watching Greg with his new son, holding him close and rocking him while I was stitched up. I mentioned something about dressing him, and Greg said, "Do I have to?" When I said no, Greg took his shirt off and held the baby against him, skin to skin, for over an hour, sitting in the other room with his two children, all of them getting to know one another.

Overall, this birth seemed easier to recover from than the first, and it was hard to stay in bed for three days. There was also a renewal of my belief in myself and my strength, a confidence and pride that I had worked through something so difficult, both the planning, and the actual labor. I hadn't done it alone, not at all. But no one else could go through those contractions for me. I gained a new awe and respect for my own strength. Sometimes, in those first days when I was resting in bed, I would just hold Seth on my bent knees and watch him sleep, in awe of this new little person, of his tiny, wrinkled, ears and his surreally long fingers and toes. My son. I am so immensely in love with this child, my heart hurts to think about it. He first smiled at me on Christmas day. He's full of smiles now.