Let me just start with a little back story of the pregnancy. I found out I was pregnant about a week before my hubby's birthday. I was excited to not be trying but not preventing either. Knowing that we are fertile I knew it would happen sooner or later. Well it happened sooner, at a time that was not the quite the "best time". I decided to tell him in a quirky way. He had been saying he needed some new shirts, so I went out and bought two infant shirts one blue and one pink. I presented him with the shirts in a gift bag with two cards. One card said Happy Birthday, the other said Congratulations. I put the congrats card inside of the birthday card, so when he opened the birthday card on the outside it just looked like normal. He took out the shirts first and didn't get it. So I told him to open the card and read on. He did then he looked at me and said, "for real?" He honestly didn't believe we were expecting until I got written proof from the midwife.
Pregnancy for me is never really horrible. I was a little sick and of course tired, but nothing to truly complain about.
What was hard for me however was dealing, emotionally, with the fact that we were financially at an extreme low point. I had a hard time also with the response my mother gave me, when we told her the great news. She knew that we weren't in a great place financially and questioned what we were doing. Uhh last I checked, we are married so we were doing what God intended for marriage, making love. We didn't plan the pregnancy but God did and I have learned not to argue with HIM, but to obey. During the pregnancy, I went on with life not really giving it much attention or her much of me. What I mean by that is, I went to appointments, and ensured things were going well, but I didn't talk to her or acknowledge her much to anyone. To a degree I regret that, but ultimately it was the best way for me to cope with our situation and the pregnancy. And right when I needed to acknowledge the pregnancy, I did. God knows best and I never left HIS loving arms.
Fast-forward to March, with a due date of March 11, I started obtaining supplies I needed for the planned home waterbirth in February like around the middle of the month. Everything was shipped and recieved in perfect time. Once again, God was all over that situation. I hoped she would come early but was pretty sure she'd be basically on time. I stopped working at the end of February to prepare for her arrival, but in order to keep current with my certification with the public schools I am required to work 2 Fridays every 5/6 week cycle. So I picked up an assignment at my son's school on Friday March 8, three days before my due date. I felt fine the kids treated me well and I left the school knowing that was it. However I wasn't feeling like labor was impending. I felt like I had felt throughout the entire pregnancy, pregnant. *hahaa*
I came home and decided to go for an evening walk, I needed to think, and also get things going somehow. I awakened the next morning feeling a bit different, I was in early labor but there was no show, no other signs that she was coming. I told the husband as he left out for work and tried to get some sleep. At that time I knew she would be coming soon, so sleep was the last thing on my mind. I called my friend T.M. and she said she would come get the little people, but my twin, the oldest girl decided she would leave too. That left me and my big boy, Isaiah, who was integral in the birth of Israel. I am so blessed! :)
He helped blow up and fill the birth pool, he did most of what I asked him to do. I know at some point I called the midwife to advise her that contractions were coming pretty close but were still manageable. She advised I take a walk to get things moving along some more. I followed her instruction and went for a walk. I made it around my block one time but had no desire to do that anymore. I got back home and just peacefully rode each wave. At some point as contractions got a little more intense, the midwife called me back and said they would call or come to the house after while to check things out. I then called the husband and told him to come, I knew she was coming but I didn't want him to miss another birth. *He missed the last 2 kids birth*
After the ladies arrived they checked my vitals, blood pressure was normal, although they weren't using the right cuff for my extra padded arms. Baby's heart was doing well especially during contractions. Everything was going very well. After a few minutes, or at least what seemed like a few minutes, of waiting and them assessing me because I didn't want an internal check someone suggested, more like encouraged an internal check. Here is where I feel like I failed myself and the lil princess. I was emotional and a little tired, had been in labor almost 10 hours, I decided that an internal check would be ok. This meant I had to get out of the pool and walk to my room.
*opposite sides of the house although my house isn't very big* The walk wasn't as bad as lying in the bed letting her stick her hands inside and feel for dialation, which often means nothing. I was ready to hurt someone because of all that she was doing in there. I hadn't felt like that the whole time in labor. Part of the reason I didn't want to be checked is b/c I didn't want to be disappointed with the progress, my body knew what to do, but it seemed like it was doing it very slowly. So here came the big news, I was fully dialated thinned and raring to go, but my water hadn't broken holding up baby girls birth descent. So the nurse suggested breaking the bag of water. As I lye on my bed, I thought well if the water is the only thing holding it up sure. But in my heart of hearts I wanted NO interventions including my water being broken. But as many pregnant, in labor women do, I agreed. I fought with her and almost got away form her breaking the water because it hurt so bad for anyone to be near my lady parts, but she did it. I felt a gush and immediately saw the panic in their faces. Baby girl had a bowl movement and meconium stained the water as it gushed out. The got oxygen ready and the "emergency kit" together and then advised me that she passed meconium and we would need to quickly get her out. I bawled hysterically thinking, why did I let them do this to me, why had I agreed to let them even come, why did I let them check me. So many emotions and dissappointment in myself for not standing my ground in what seemed like a sneaky, pushy way of "getting the baby out" just what a doctor would have done in a hospital. Eventually, the MW made me get myself together and come out of my self pity and get her out. I literally pushed 2 or 3 times and out came lil momma. I remember saying this doesn't feel right, I don't want to be on my back. This isn't right. But I knew also that she had to come out I could feel her little head full of hair and with a loud and powerful grunt I pushed and felt her warm body ooze out of my body and they helped place her on my tummy and checked her out to make sure she hadn't ingested any of the meconium. PRAISE THE LORD she hadn't. She was and is the most perfect little innocent thing. God knows, exactly what you need when you need it. She is my God sent angel, who keeps me in awe of HIS splendor and grace. I could go on and on but this has been quite long so I will say she was 6 pounds 15 ounces *not quite 7 pounds even if we tried* the smallest born on time baby I've had, and I must admit, I knew she would be. I remember telling the midwife she's going to be small, she seemed to think she would be big, but momma knows. She was 20 inches long and nursed, after while but was sooo good at it. She was a pro.
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