She was my shortest labour but the most intense.
Intrigued?
I found out I was pregnant just a few weeks after moving to Regina. Not knowing where to start looking for good prenatal care or for a good doctor who would deliver my baby, I made an appointment with a doctor near my house. It was not the greatest experience. A quick online search and I found that the health region employed three midwives. They agreed to take me on as a client and we soon found out that they were tasked with working to their fullest capacity - which meant home births were offered and encouraged, given the right circumstances.
I happened to be the "perfect" candidate for a home birth - my first two pregnancies and deliveries were normal and this pregnancy was also deemed low-risk. While liking the idea of delivering at home, in my own space, I had mixed feelings about it.
With the knowledge that a home birth would only happen if there were two midwives available, I mentally prepared to have my baby at the hospital, all the while collecting the necessary items for having a baby at home.
Three days after my due date, I had made it through a week of sporadic contractions and a weekend of my midwife not being on call. Which brought me to Monday, with my regular weekly visit to my midwife and the knowledge that if I went into labour, I could be having a baby at home. And that evening, enter labour I did, with an intensity I had never experienced before. My kids were in bed and my husband had gone back to work. It wasn't long before I was calling him home and it wasn't long after that that he was calling the midwife.
The midwives came to the house and stayed with me through the whole process. There was no constant checking to see how I was progressing; rather they checked the baby's heartbeat on a consistent basis to ensure the baby was still "happy". As long as I was dealing well with the contractions, they let my body set its own pace. If you've had a baby, you know how time can lose all meaning when you are in labour - I lost all track of time as I stood in my shower and my body worked to get ready for birthing a baby. When I felt the need to start pushing, I moved to my bed. There, with my permission, my midwife broke my water, the intensity of the contractions eased and I was able to relax between them. Less than an hour later, on my hands and knees, with a slow, sustained push, my baby emerged. Her head came out and before the rest of her body was out, she was squawking. A good start for a girl with two older brothers.
She was my smallest baby, had the most hair and was definitely the loudest. No meds, no IV, no tearing, no being rushed, no harsh lights, nothing unfamiliar. She and I hung out for a few minutes, her dad cut her cord, and then she got her chance to snuggle in and nurse.
All the while, her brothers slept.
And that's the story...or at least my version of the story. There are a bunch of numbers and times I could pass on but this birth never focused on them and so I don't feel the need to relate them. It was a good experience. Relaxed (as much as a birth can be) and low-key. And, to my pleasant surprise, all went much better than I had anticipated. The follow-up care was amazing as I had a midwife come to my house multiple days to check on us to make sure all was going well. A week later my 7 pound, 2 ounce baby was back up to her birth weight and we were settling in to the new normal.
Oh, and just in case you were wondering, by the time the midwives left, you would never have guessed that a baby was born in my bed.
