That is the opening line to a song I rather despise, but is firmly planted in my being thanks to many years of soulful music playing throughout my childhood. It is now the "musical memory" attached to the birth of my sweet, baby girl who made her appearance earthside on Sunday, May 17, 2020, at 1:25am.
Her story, so far, is rather eventful, so hold on for the ride. It starts with her as a prayer. You see, I have always wanted a large family. I knew I wanted lots of children. But life happened and after many years of fertility struggles (and payments) we thought after the birth of our first two girls we would only be blessed with the joys of witnessing them and be satisfied. We were both content with being a family of four, especially with all the responsibilities that are involved with being a family with 2 parents working outside the home in a big city. So imagine our surprise when, after agreeing that the only way we'd discuss additional kids is if our finances hit a major upgrade, we found ourselves pregnant again with absolutely NO medical assistance! That's right - years of pain, struggles, tears, anger, loss, and sorrow, were suddenly ignored by the natural process that had eluded us thus far. There were a few moments of resentment of that fact along the way, but the truth remained - a baby was coming!
The pregnancy itself was rather uneventful - it contained my usual full-day nausea sans vomiting, minimal appetite, minimal cravings, minimal weight gain, and minimal bodily pains. As I had always fantasized another unassisted homebirth after unexpectedly birthing my now middle baby at home unassisted, I immediately started planning for another. The last experience let me know that it was the perfect path for me: freedom to simply allow my body to do what it needed in the time it needed in the space it needed. I revisited the supplies list, made sure I had what I felt was needed and happily started prenatal care with my OB, knowing I'd not be following through with her birthing plans. What I did not expect, however, was the level of intrusiveness that even the prenatal care presented. It became so emotionally taxing just keeping up with the sheer number of appointments that they wanted to have with me that I eventually ceased care shortly before daRona closed the clinics down. Thankfully I'd made it through the major appointments that confirmed baby's existence, genetic markers, and body parts were all properly accounted for. I also, as a remnant of the incompetent cervix-based loss of our sons, made sure that my cervical length was of no concern during my second trimester. Additionally, as much as I loved my OB's personality, I just could not bring myself to have the "planned homebirth" convo with her after her cheery declaration that they'd be inducing me at 38 weeks because it was "safer" given my medical profile. I was honestly scared that she'd drop me from her care and somehow blacklist me from the clinic overall. I'm still nervous how this will all affect my followup care, my future medical needs, and our documentation needs in terms of getting baby's birth certificate.
So at this point all that was left was to wait for baby to come. I slowly gathered the supplies and did what I could to celebrate and enjoy my final pregnancy. I finally took the maternity pictures that showed my and my daughters' personalities to a tee. I created a "baby mama dance" video, complete with my own music mix, showcasing my huge belly. I (again) did the baby's due date guessing game online with my friends and family. If this is our last hurrah (which I expect it is for real this time), I wanted to enjoy it to the fullest. So I did.
But even with all these things accomplished there was still no baby here! After all my years of birth advocacy, of counselling mamas to trust their bodies to labor and birth when the body and baby are ready, here I was well over that 40 week "deadline" for the first time in my gestating life (both my older girls came in the 38th week) and wondering if I would indeed have to eat all those words and find somebody's hospital to get this kid outta me. You see, this maternal care system and the fears it produces is insidious even when you purpose to step outside of it! Thankfully, right as we approached the eve of the 41st week, my water broke and the show got on the road.
So then there was the birth... With my water breaking late Saturday night, nearly 9 pm, I called both my friend and my niece who had both previously expressed interest in being present for the birth. In the hour it took for them to both make it over, we'd already cleaned up the amniotic fluid on the living room floor and I'd moved myself into the bathroom as before to start timing the contractions, as they'd started almost immediately. My friend ended up being a de facto doula to my process and in a perfectly silent and hands-off in a way that meshed divinely into my "birth alone" plans. My niece ended up being the perfect answer to my girls' late night I'm-so-tired-I'm-hyperactive follies. And after laboring in the bathroom leaning on the countertop, on the potty but not because that was uncomfortable, in the tub for a while but then not as I couldn't stretch out and rest the way I felt I needed to, in my bed to rest but then still feeling as if the contractions were unproductive, and finally leaning on the side of my bed and feeling the progression I hoped for... I kneeled down next to my bed when I felt her body finally descending so she wouldn't drop too far. From there my sweet baby girl stretched her feet out into this world first, just as her eldest sister did, and finally made her debut directly in our home, just as her other big sister did. She also split the difference between the two elders with her other statistics - having a round, chunky face, but being *lighter* in weight, coming in at just a smidge over 8 pounds. (Lighter compared to the 9lb4oz that the middle one was.)
And that is the story of my early one Sunday morning unassisted, breech, homebirth. We still haven't decided on her name, but rest assured, dear friends, we'll share when we do. For now, she's still just the new one.
