Josiah James: Birth Story

{fresh out of the oven}


First, can we talk about what a rockstar Baby Bean is?
5 minutes old and with a faux hawk.
heart.breaker.

Now, moving on to the good stuff.
Labor.
and
Delivery.



Ever since I found out I was pregnant, I knew that (ideally) I wanted a few things in the birth experience:

1. A midwife
2. Natural delivery {no drugs}
3. and the baby. of course. regardless.

The midwife: no problem.
The no drugs thing...I think I can. I think I can.
I read "Spiritual Midwifery" and "Hypnobirthing" cover to cover.
We practiced breathing/massage/relaxation techniques.
I made Daniel uncover his eyes and watch a birth video.
Above all, we prayed and prayed and prayed.
Especially after that birth video.

Fast forward to Monday, November 28th.
I woke up around 6AM, made Daniel his lunch, kissed him goodbye and went back to sleep.
About an hour later, real authentic-none-of-this-Braxton-Hicks-nonsense-contractions kicked in.
They were coming consistently about 7-8 minutes apart.
Nothing too painful, just apparent.
I kept Daniel updated all day long, as I ate my Thanksgiving leftovers and checked my iPhone contraction timer app.

Finally, they were about 4-5 minutes apart around 4PM.
Daniel decided to head home.
And then we waited for a few hours more as I paced around, wondering if this was real life and worth calling my midwife about.

{Note: I have a high tolerance for pain. Case in point. Broke my pinkie finger in the 3rd grade while playing leap frog. Didn't complain at all, until I went home and my Dad noticed my crooked purple appendage}

More out of curiosity, we decided to go for it.
Grabbed our stuff and headed to the birthing center around 10PM.
Upon arrival, I was about 2cm and 70% effaced.
Steady contractions, but nothing progressing.
We decided to go back home and wait it out.
For the next hours? Days? Weeks? You never know.

It was midnight, we were tired. Daniel fell asleep.
I was so sleepy. heartburn. the works.
And then...

Really really real contractions started.
Like, the ones that take your breath away and leave you wishing you were a boy.
For the next 6 hours, I stumbled around. laid down. soaked in the bathtub. bounced on the birthing ball. glared at Daniel as he peacefully slumbered.

7AM rolled around.
As I'm panting through a big contraction,
I realize this can't be what 2cm feels like.
It.can't.be.
God isn't that big of a meanie pants.

So, I attack Daniel.
Literally.
Fling myself on top of him.
Grab his nose.
I grabbed onto that nose and held on for those darn 60 seconds.

So.
He calls my midwife this time.
I don't think moaning and groaning translates too well over the phone.
10AM, and we're back in the car. Back to the birthing center.

And I find out that all those contractions were worth it.
8cm. 100% effaced.

The next four hours are a blur.
Phone calls to family and friends.
The arrivals of my mom, mother-in-law, and my aunt into the room.
Moving around to different positions, trying to get comfortable.
And the pushing.
oh the glorious pushing.
Seriously, pushing is the best feeling in the world.
Like the greatest poop you've ever had.

I basically closed my eyes, didn't talk, zoned out, and focused for the last 2 hours.
No "ring of fire."
No tearing.
No real pooping. {not that I would've cared at that point in time}

Just dreaming of my baby boy and cheeseburgers.

Dare I say it,
I enjoyed giving birth.
gasp.


2:05 PM. November 29th.
We became a little family.
and life will never be the same again.

xoxo

{Bon Bon}