I started to laugh.
I called to The Carpenter that my water had broken and asked him to bring me a towel as The Smiler whined at me to lay down with him in his bed. Not wanting him to come in to our bed since I expected to now be in labour all night and thinking this was his last time being an only child, I obliged, towel between my legs, and laid with him a while. I was cold and wet, though, and the hormones were giving me the shakes pretty badly so I crept away a little too soon. Within minutes of leaving the room, he was up again and calling for me. I felt very annoyed at the universe for that. Thankfully, The Carpenter was able to calm him and get him back to sleep.
Well, sure enough, after a few good rushes, things petered out. I called both C and the midwife back to tell them I was going to try and sleep and they should do the same. I put on my Hypnobirthing CD and ended up sleeping from about 1:30 until 7 in the morning, waking up with some light rushes a few times but nothing to complain about. In the morning I had some more convincing rushes and sent The Smiler to my parents' just around the corner thinking I'd be labouring all day. My midwife called to see how I was doing; my primary one (we'll call her midwife A) was back on call now and the secondary one (we'll call her midwife B) would come as a second attendant when I felt ready for them. These were the two women who fought for me to have care and who supported my wishes fully throughout my pregnancy. They never once pressured me and consistently respected my intelligence, knowledge and capability to make informed decisions about my prenatal and fetal care without question. This was the first moment in the entire pregnancy where I felt certain I would be comfortable being attended at my birth trusting my wishes would be respected. I told midwife A that I would call her when things got moving and then started puttering around the house to distract myself.
She called me around lunch to ask if I wanted her to come check fetal heart tones and to let me know she was supposed to offer antibiotics after 18 hours of ruptured membranes and consult with an OB after 24 hours. I declined heart tones and antibiotics and could hear the smile in her voice as she said, "Okay!". She explained that at 24 hours she had to call an OB who would then make a recommendation of chemical induction in hospital at which time I could decline (again, I heard the smile in her voice as she said, "Which I assume you'll do.") and she would still attend me at home as planned when I was ready for her.
Around 1:00 when I would usually put The Smiler down for a nap I texted my mom and told her that I still wasn't in active labour and if she wanted to send him home for a while, that would be okay with me since I would probably need to send him back later once things stepped up. So The Carpenter brought him home. I decided to nap with him but before we went to sleep, The Carpenter was debating whether or not to cancel the much needed appointment for the dog to get groomed at 3 pm. I finally told him to go since there was still nothing convincing happening and it wouldn't take too long. He decided we'd kill two birds with one stone and he'd go buy the vacuum we wanted while he waited for her. Off I went for a nap with my big boy.
Around 3 I woke up from sleep with a rush. I put on my Hypnobirthing CD and tried to relax. Another one broke my concentration and I decided to time them for a while. They were coming about 10 minutes apart but lasting quite a while at a minute to even a minute and a half long sometimes with a decent peak, though still manageable pain-wise. By 4 they had jumped to about 6 minutes apart and were getting more intense. I expected The Carpenter to be home by then so I called and he said he was still waiting for the dog. I was having a hard time dealing with The Smiler during rushes so I told him to hurry home!
At 4:45 I texted C to tell her things were about 5-6 minutes apart and about a minute long. The Carpenter came home around the same time and, with no sense of urgency, started assembling the new vacuum as The Smiler watched excitedly, exclaiming that he wanted to try using it. By this point my rushes were about 3-4 minutes apart and I was at the place where I didn't want to hear sounds, be talked to or have to talk during them. I told The Carpenter to hurry up and get that kid dropped off at my parents' already and went and ran a bath.
In the bath tub, the rushes started to ramp up again and I had two or three where I couldn't find my groove. As with my first birth, I felt like a dog spinning to make a place to lay. I was looking for a physical position or movement to use as a ritual until I realized being upright was relieving the discomfort as much as was possible and the real issue was in my head. I had felt very resistant to giving birth throughout the last weeks of my pregnancy and even during labour, I kept thinking that I wanted the baby but didn't want to do the work to get him. Through the rush, as I felt the long fingers radiate out from my spine, wrap around to the front and pull rhythmically, I thought over and over, "This will bring your baby. This sensation will bring your baby. This opens the path for your baby."
The Carpenter came home and I leaned against the back wall of the tub as he sat on the bathroom floor keeping me company. I breathed through rushes and kept mentally repeating my mantra. I told him more than once that I didn't want to do this part of it. He was wise. He just looked deep into my eyes and said, "I know. It's okay. I know." C called at one point and The Carpenter talked to her. She said she'd be over within an hour. I think that was around 5:30 or so.
My tub in my ensuite is quite large and I thought it would be good for birthing in but after a while I got tired of the hard bottom and wanted to stretch my body out more. I asked The Carpenter to fill up the birth pool I had borrowed from a friend, instead and I was so glad I did. The inflated bottom of the La Bassine pool is so soft and comfortable - much nicer than the hard bottom of a regular bathtub. Plus it's even bigger and the sides are equally soft, supportive and comfortable. As he filled it, I got out of the other tub, put on a bikini top and skirt and walked around the house a while, holding on to doorknobs during rushes and swaying my hips.
I decided to call A since things were definitely getting intense at this point. She said she'd drop her daughter off at home and head over. That was around 6 or 6:15, I think. I went back into the bedroom feeling anxious to get into the tub but it wasn't quite full yet. I got up on the bed on my knees and tried leaning forward through a rush just as The Carpenter tried to ask me something and I yelled, "I don't care! Ooooh! Shut up!" He quietly continued on - smart man.
I got into the tub finally and it felt much better. I was having continuing pain at my pubic bone in between rushes by this point and it was making me feel very frustrated because it came with a sensation of needing to pee but not being able to. I heard some rustling of papers in the kitchen and looked around kind of confused so The Carpenter said, "C is here." I told him I wanted her to come see me. She came in and asked how I was doing and I complained of the sensation of needing to pee and not being able to and the pain at my pubic bone not stopping between rushes. I lamented, "Why did I do this again?" and she said, matter-of-factly, "Because you're having another son." Then she said, "You're shaking. Are you cold?" I said, "I don't know... I don't really feel cold but I can feel myself shaking." Then I whined, "Unnhhhh! Another one's coming!" and had another rush. I told her I didn't think I was in transition, yet and she quietly said, "Okay." Afterwards she told me it was obvious I was totally in transition at that point. At some point in there I felt it necessary to tell her that if I said I felt like throwing up, I wanted to throw up in the white bowl, not the stainless steel bowl. I have no idea why I thought that was important but I sure felt that way at the time.
The Carpenter came close to me and I asked him to rub my back - side to side, not up and down, not in circles, just in this exact area - the same way I had during my first birth. C offered me water and I drank. I leaned forward with my shoulders against the wall of the tub and my face resting on the edge. I stretched my legs out long behind me, as if I was doing a push up, and mostly stayed in this position thereafter. I felt such a need to stretch out long, which was different for me since with my first birth I was on all fours or rearing upright.
I felt my breath catching at the start of the next rush and C said gently, "Don't hold your breath, Amy." I realized I had just pushed a bit and whined, "I feel pushyyyyyy!" and she softly said, "Okay. That's good." I complained to The Carpenter that I wasn't getting a break, that I just wanted a little break to rest a minute. He lovingly said, "I know. You're working hard. You're doing so good." With the next rush I started to squeeze my hips and The Carpenter immediately used his free hand without being asked to squeeze on the one side for me so I could keep holding myself up with one hand, too.
I vaguely remember hearing a bit of rustling around outside the room, C telling me, "A and B are here." and ignoring it all. The Carpenter tells me I actually said, "Ugh, I don't care." though I don't remember that. Later C told me that a few minutes later A came to the doorway and mouthed, "Is she pushing?" C nodded and A walked away again. I am so grateful that she respected my wishes for an unhindered experience.
I was still in the push up position and then moved to a genuflect position as I felt his head start to crown. I really didn't want to tear with this birth so I started to blow my breaths out, trying to slow myself down but it didn't do much, that baby was moving so fast. C told me later she could hear me trying to slow it down and could see that I couldn't. I felt his head slide out and breathed as I waited for the shoulders. I could feel the rush starting to wane and all I could think of was that I really didn't want to wait for another one before getting those shoulders out of me so I turned my hip a bit, gave a little nudge and out he came. With my hand on his back, I started to sit back and I have such a beautiful image of his face coming up in the water, eyes open, arms spread wide as though asking to be picked up, looking right at me.
A very large clot floated up (probably about 6" in diameter and 3/4" thick) so I called A in to show her though I wasn't particularly worried about it since there was barely any blood in the water at all; she judged it no big deal and also commented on the lack of blood in the water. No one bothered me to get out of the tub or asked to do anything to the baby. Everyone was silent, just as I had requested. In fact, A left the room right after looking at the clot, I didn't even have to ask her to. I finally decided I wanted to get out of the tub maybe 10 minutes later and The Carpenter helped me out.
I had a bit of the shakes again so put on my housecoat and wrapped it around myself and the baby but then I started to feel like I wanted the placenta out so I had them put a bowl under the toilet seat so I could sit down. The cord was much shorter than The Smiler's epic-length cord had been and I was having trouble sitting comfortably while The Carpenter held the baby so I decided to cut it. It was limp, thin and white by this point, anyway. I sat some more, just looking at the baby, stroking his cheeks, looking at my husband, telling them I loved them. The Carpenter told me I did awesome and he was proud of me. The placenta didn't come, though. I didn't feel crampy, either. Same as with my first birth.
I decided to lay down and rest a while and let the baby nurse some more to see if it would help. After probably a while more than 30 minutes, A very gently said, "It's been 30 minutes. I have to offer you pitocin now. Would you like to accept or decline that?" I said I was declining and she kindly said, "Okay, keep trying to nurse him." and left the room again.
I talked to C about The Smiler's birth and the placenta not coming (it was just sitting in my birth path but I had no crampiness or anything). I talked about how with his birth I kept feeling like pulling on the cord and then kept telling myself I shouldn't do that because it was dangerous. That was the only part of his birth where I didn't follow my intuition and regretted it later. I was feeling this yucky, 'want this placenta out of me' feeling - something I had felt with The Smiler's birth, too - so I called A back in and told her to look and see if the placenta was just sitting there. Sure enough, that's exactly what was going on. She said, "It's right there. Give a push and I'll tug a bit." I pushed and she was pulling so gently that I finally said, exasperated, "Oh, A. Just pull it out already. I don't want it in there anymore, it's making me feel baaaad." She laughed and pulled it out. I immediately felt better. A said I had a barely 2nd degree tear, we discussed it and I opted not to get sutures. B came to the doorway and very respectfully asked if she could come look at the baby and I happily invited her in. Later A joked that in all her years as a midwife she'd never had anyone tell her to just pull their placenta out.
In any event, the placenta was out and deemed beautiful by all; the cord was precisely centred and there was one perfect hole in the membranes which were otherwise fully intact. My only regret is that we didn't take a photo of it. Particularly the part where The Carpenter nonchalantly chowed on an apple as A showed him the placenta in detail!
At this point I said I felt comfortable with A doing a quick newborn exam. Baby was very peaceful throughout the process and Daddy and I talked to him the whole time. He weighed in at 8 pounds 13 1/2 ounces. A full 2 1/2 pounds bigger than my first baby!
My first birth was 27 hours from rupture of membranes to onset of what I consider actual labour, then 9 hours until birth. My second birth was 15 hours from rupture of membranes to onset of what I consider actual labour, then 4 1/4 hours until birth. So things were basically cut in half, which I understand is generally the case with subsequent births. Very manageable. As with my first birth, while it was happening I kept thinking I wasn't as far along as I actually was and really steeling myself for what was to come. As with my first birth, when I felt myself pushing, I was shocked I was that far already. As with my first birth, when it was all said and done, I was honestly surprised that it wasn't as hard as I was prepared for it to be.
I felt like getting up soon after baby was checked over and did just that, holding my new boy wrapped up against my skin under my housecoat. I drank some water and lemonade, chatted joyfully with the midwives and C and The Carpenter and lounged on my couch while marvelling at my son some more. I called my mom, told her baby was here and that I'd send The Carpenter up to get The Smiler so he could come meet his brother. I asked her to wait about half an hour and then she and my dad could come see the baby, too. The Smiler was very happy to meet his baby brother and immediately pronounced him "dorbul" and gave him kisses. It was a wonderful moment.
My parents came to visit and brought some leftovers which The Carpenter and I ate voraciously. After they left, we spent some more time as a family before all climbing into bed together. Everyone but me slept. I had insomnia but I didn't mind - I had the best view in the whole wide world.
I'm a compulsive editor so I've already been back in this post making teeny edits here and there. Hey, it's my blog, I can do what I want here. In all seriousness, though, I feel the need to add that I can never express how grateful I am to Mother Nature for not only one but two beautiful birth experiences. I have read more birth stories and watched more birth videos than I could ever count, I am involved with a lot of birth-related groups and I know there are many, many people who don't get to have this kind of experience even once despite the most careful planning and diligent preparation. I am so, so, so filled with thankfulness and appreciation each time I think about my boys' births and the beautiful moments I get to treasure for all eternity. Each time I think about them, I send out love and healing light to those of you who have had less than ideal birth experiences. I want you to know that your experiences are valid, your babies are perfect and your feelings are real and right to have. I want you to feel held in love and safety each time you reflect on your experiences and know that I honour you and your strength each time I reflect on my own.