Owen’s Birth Story 

Owen is our first child; he was born on Friday, August 23, 2002 at 4:42 AM.

We had been planning a homebirth since very early on, and were under the care of a pair of midwives.  At about 35 weeks, we’d hired a doula as well.  We’d bought the homebirth kit, and all the added supplies that were suggested.  Our bedroom was set up in a way that would allow the midwife the best access to lighting and outlets.

At 37 weeks, I’d started taking Evening Primrose Oil in the hopes of softening my cervix and allowing for easier dilation and effacement when the time came.  I didn’t want to speed labour up any, or make it come on any sooner, just to make it as easy as I could.  About the same time I started seeing a chiropractor every couple of days – she was doing the “Webster Technique” on me.  I saw her a total of 6 times for this, and will definitely do it again next time around.

I’d been having Braxton-Hicks contractions off and on since I was 21 weeks, so when these mild, painless contractions started coming more regularly at 38 weeks, the thought that I was in labour didn’t even exist.  I hoped that I was, because I was so eager to meet our “Peanut”, but also hoped that I wasn’t, as I was in no hurry to end the pregnancy.  The Braxton-Hicks kept up for 2 days, but they had no regularity or pain at all.

Hubby and I went to bed as usual on the 22nd – but only got about 3 hours sleep as I woke up at 1:15 AM, just as my water broke!  No contractions though.  We puttered around the apartment for the next 45 minutes – setting up for the impending birth.  We got my labour supplies ready, made up the bed with a waterproof sheet – I even sent hubby to the grocery store for some food for our attendants!

Around 2:30 AM I was feeling a LOT of back pain, and had my husband paged our midwife – turns out she was already at the hospital attending another birth.  We had the choice of going there or having a midwife we didn’t know come to our home.  I didn’t think I was very far into the labour process, so opted to go to the hospital.  We called our doula and grabbed the “emergency” bag I had packed.  The hospital is a good 40 minutes drive away from our home.

Got to the hospital around 3:45 or so – I didn’t notice the exact time, and met our midwife.  We went into a room, and it took a few minutes before I could get onto the bed to be checked out (I told her that I had to do something about the pain in my back – it was excruciating).  She checks me and tells me I should try to push with the next contraction!

I tried a couple of different positions, but with the pain in my back, had a difficult time finding a comfortable position – finally the midwife suggested my hands and knees on the bed.  Once I was in that position, you couldn’t have moved me with a pack of wild horses!  I didn’t have any urge to push at that point, so was prompted for a bit, but after a few pushes, the urge to push hit me.  About the same time, our doula arrived.  This was at about 4 AM.

The doula had brought orange balls with her – roller hockey style – with faces on them.  I took one in each hand and squeezed them as hard as I possibly could while I pushed.  The doula and my husband were rubbing my back and hips, or mopping my face with a cloth, or giving me drinks of water.  Throughout the entire labour, everybody kept saying how I was doing “a good job” or some other version of the same thought – great motivation, but I kept telling them “NO!”  I don’t really know why, maybe because this was my first birth, but I really did NOT feel like I was accomplishing anything – or doing anything that was good.  It became something of a mantra for me, and between that and a lot of loud moaning and groaning (this helps so much) we all got through it.

After pushing for about 45 minutes our son was born – no crying or sound at all.  I was totally freaked out by that, and was completely unable to move at first.  The midwife put him up under my legs (I’m still on my hands and knees here) for me to see – he was breathing just fine, and absolutely beautiful.  I think I relaxed immediately on seeing him.

I looked around after seeing my son, my husband was crying so hard he could barely speak – he hadn’t been able to see if our baby was a boy or a girl.  I’m not certain, but I think I said to him “its Owen”, or something very close to that.  He was absolutely thrilled, and is a very protective and loving father.

Within a few minutes of Owen’s birth, I had him on my chest and he took to nursing like a pro.

I can hardly describe the joy I felt in welcoming our son into our family, or how thankful I am to our midwives and our doula who were with us and shared this miracle.

I had no medication, and only needed a few stitches.  We left the hospital just a few hours later, and where home before Owen was 8 hours old!

The birth didn’t go as planned - our son is a healthy, happy baby, and that is something I would not trade in for the world!

Heather’s Birth Story

Heather Elizabeth is our second child; she was born on Friday August 27, 2004 at 1:50 PM.

We had planned a homebirth from the moment we knew I was expecting.  I don’t think anything else honestly crossed our minds – we knew that home was where we wanted to welcome our child.

Sometime in the last couple of months, I started researching water birth, and came to the conclusion that I wanted the option of having my baby in the water, and if I had any back labour again, I definitely wanted to labour in the water.  We borrowed an inflatable kiddie pool and waterbed hook-up kit and figured out where best to put these in our living room.

After having had our first baby at 38 weeks, I was mentally prepared to have this baby before its due date – but 38 weeks came and went.  Then 39 weeks came and went.  I was having bouts of false labour – intense Braxton-Hicks contractions, but nothing that lasted for more than a few hours.

At 40 weeks – on my baby’s “due date”, we went out in the morning to pick up a box of fruit, and did a bit of running around.  We got back to the apartment sometime after 11 am.  Brad cooked up some pasta, and I had put Owen down for a nap.  It was closing in on noon.

I was sitting in front of our computer, chatting with a couple of friends when I first felt the contractions.  It hurt.  Not just simple “intense” like I’d been feeling before, but out-right pain.  A couple more contractions like that, and I was telling “T” (our doula) that this hurt – we talked between contractions for a little while, and she asked if she should come over.  Hesitant to call her over after having several false starts, I asked her to ask me again in a half-hour.  When she came back – I was ready to have her come over.  That was around 12:20 pm.

When “T” arrived, Brad had inflated the kiddie pool, and was in the process of filling it up with water, and trying to put pressure on my lower back as I leaned across an exercise ball during contractions.  She took over the back pressure while Brad checked on the pool – and she showed me that she’d brought back the smiley-face balls she had had with her during Owen’s birth!  Not long after that, the pool was filled enough for me to get in - so I waited for a bit of a break, stripped down, and got into the pool, leaning on the couch on my hands and knees. Somewhere around there - our doula asked if she should call 911, but was told "NO" in no uncertain terms - there was a midwife on the way, and I was managing okay (contrary to the moaning and groaning and carrying on I was doing in the pool!). The phone rang then - the midwife who was on her way had been in a car accident!! But another midwife was on her way! It wasn't long after that that what felt like multiple contractions on top of one another started – luckily this didn't last long.  I could feel the baby coming way down. Brad was standing in the pool behind me, pushing on my back and tailbone. My water broke in a gush - clear as clear could be! Brad didn't notice anything because I was in the water, but there was NO missing it for me. A couple of contractions later I was screaming - loud - NO NO NO. Our doula asked me "No what" - I told her the baby was coming now, coming out. Our doula was telling Brad to look and see if he could see the baby's head, but because of our positions, he couldn't tell. I think it was 2 contractions later that I could feel her head coming out - somehow I flipped from my hands and knees to sitting - Brad could see the back of her head then. I told him to hold the baby's head, but then put my hands back onto her as the next contraction came on and her head came out. I had her head in my hands as her shoulders came out next, and then somehow caught her under the shoulders as she flew out with the next contraction. I brought her up out of the water, and looked to see if our baby was a boy or a girl. I *think* I told Brad and our doula that we had a baby girl, but I'm not sure. That was 1:50 pm. Not two full hours after the first contraction hit me! Heather latched on and started to suckle almost immediately, so we stayed in the water for a little while - someone contacted our midwife and told her that the baby was here, breathing, nursing and starting to get some colour, and I called my mom too. With some help I got out of the pool and onto our couch; and was lounging there, covered in lots of towels and a blanket, when the midwife (not ours) arrived about 2:15 pm. Heather's cord was cut around 3 PM, placenta delivered not too long after that. She has been nursing like a dream. 

Her big brother kisses and loves her, he is fascinated with her little nose.

Wyatt’s Birth Story

It was 2am, Friday, December 8th, 2006 – I hear my son wake up and send Brad in to him to settle back down.  I roll over and snuggle up next to my daughter to go back to sleep only to be gripped by a strong contraction.  Not overly painful, but enough to get my attention.  As I had been having practice contractions for quite some time, I planned on just going to sleep.

No such luck, as another contraction starts just a couple of minutes later.  I get up – to pee and get a drink.  By 2:30 am, there is no ignoring these – so I go and wake my hubby.

Between 2:30 am and 5:00 am, we time some of the contractions – they are quite strong, strong enough that I need to breathe through them – and there is little to no pattern.  They are from 2 to 5 minutes apart.

As 5:00 am rolls around and the kids wake up, the contractions space put – going up to 10 minutes apart.  I alternate between pacing the hall with my daughter shadowing me, and bouncing on my yoga ball.

Somewhere between 6 and 7 am, the contractions space out even more – I run a nice warm bath, I’m already exhausted, having only gotten 3 hours sleep the night before.  Brad calls our doula to put her on alert – just in case things pick up.  I stay in the bath for about half an hour – no contractions at all, and I’m feeling very sleepy, so I head off to bed.  Once in bed, I have a few, but I am able to work through them and rest some, even if I am not sleeping.

I get back up around 8:30 am or so – contractions are still sporadic and strong, and I’m seeing some of what I can only guess is my plug, but no bloody show yet.

I half lie on the couch and literally sleep (snoring!) between the sporadic contractions.  I lost track of time, but know that I did get back into the tub a second time at some point.

Around 11:45 am I nurse Heather for her nap, lying in her bed with her, she was almost asleep when the first “real” contraction hit.  By “real”, I mean the first that hurt a lot.  After a couple of strong and close contractions, I had to pee and finally saw some bloody show.  I called my doula and started leaning on my yoga ball while handling the contractions – lots of low moaning from me – I am not a quiet labourer.  Brad started filling the pool with water – I’m glad we had already inflated it.

At 12:10 pm the hose for the pool flew out of the pool, spraying the wall and window with water; you need comedy relief even during labour!

Five minutes later, the fire alarm went off.  We live in a high-rise apartment building, and they were doing the monthly test.  Thankfully, I didn’t have any contractions during the alarm, as I was trying to comfort Owen, who gets very frightened by the alarm. Our doula arrived, the extra set of hands was great.  She really helped to keep the kids occupied, even gave them little “helper” jobs like getting cold washcloths and having them rub my back, plus helping me to reassure them that I really was “ok”.

Things really started to run together at this point – the contractions were coming about every 2 minutes or less, and were REALLY strong too.  Brad and our doula were having a hard time getting the pool warm enough, they eventually did and I got in the water.

It must have been a little after 1 pm when the doula paged our midwife and I was getting in the water.  Being in the water was really helpful to me, it was familiar territory, and the water felt good on my skin, cooler and supportive.

The contractions started coming one on top of the other before too long – and my moaning went from low to very high.  Not quite screaming, but not far from it.

Around 1:30 pm my water broke. I asked both Brad and the doula several times to confirm that it was clear.  They both told me it was, but I needed reassurance.

I commenced the screaming phase.  This was likely transition, and the part of labour that I really and truly hate.  No break between contractions, the intensity is feeling insurmountable, and I am begging for someone to make it stop.  It doesn’t feel like I can take another moment, but my doula keeps her calm, reassuring me that we’re close now, and that I’m doing well.  I’m almost sobbing as I tell her that I’m NOT doing well.

I can feel my baby coming down, but can’t feel the head yet – a few more contractions (and screams) and I can’t help but push – SHOVE – to bring this baby down. 

We realize now that the midwife has not returned the page, and the doula goes to the phone and pages her a second time.

While she is on the phone another contraction comes and I shove for all I am worth, the baby’s head is there now.  One more contraction and I’m hollering across the room that the head is OUT!!

I get a momentary break, a minute maybe, to catch my breath.  Then it’s time to get this baby out, I can’t do slow or small pushes.  It’s all or nothing.  One contraction, two more huge pushes, and baby is in Daddy’s hands.

Here is the only moment of worry in this birth – I want to see my baby, but Brad and our doula are literally pushing my leg down (I was on my hands and knees) so I can’t turn over.  I’m fighting them both.  Our doula says that the cord is around his neck and I HAVE TO stay still so she can unwrap him!

Okay – staying still, those few seconds felt like forever to me.  I couldn’t see my baby – I didn’t hear him either – and I was worried sick.

In just a moment, likely under a minute, I was given the okay to turn over and handed my baby for the first time.  He was big, purple, and stuffy, but breathing and absolutely gorgeous.

He was really stuffy, I put him semi-reclining in my arms and rubbed his back, he sneezed and coughed out some mucous then started crying.  His little voice sounded like a kitten.  I called my mom, then got out of the pool and onto the couch.

Doula put in a third page to the midwife and we eventually did hear back from her.

We waited about an hour, maybe an hour and a half, for the placenta to show.  Baby Wyatt nursed almost constantly during that time.

The midwife arrived about 2 hours after his birth.

Baby Wyatt made his grand entrance at 1:50 pm, weighing in at 9lbs 2oz, and measuring 21 inches long.