In My Daughter's Eyes

In my daughter's eyes,
I am a hero,
I am strong and wise,
And I know no fear,
But the truth is plain to see,
She was sent to rescue me,
I see who I want to be,
In my daughter's eyes

(lyrics from In My Daughter's Eyes by Martina McBride)

It is hard to believe my baby girl will be three years old tomorrow.  It seems like yesterday I was beginning labor with her, soaking up the last moments I had with just Tucker and preparing to journey through one of the most defining experiences of my life.  Her birth was life changing for me, on so many levels.

I love this girl with all that I have.

Before I was a parent, I would hear people describe their children as having their hearts walk around outside their bodies.  There were many things I didn't quite understand about a parent's love before I became one, but describing her as having my heart walking around outside of my body is exactly what it feels like.  I love her so much it hurts.  Just thinking of her beauty, internal and external, makes me well up with tears.  All of my children are amazing, but there is a difference between loving a son and loving a daughter.  It's not something I'm capable of putting into words because one is not more or less than another, it is just different. 

I see her future and how much of an impact she will have on our lives, how much of an impact she will have on this world.  I want her to chase her dreams without fear, I want her to be happy, I want her to be kind, I want her to love and be loved, I want her to be passionate about something, I want her to foster the parts of her personality that scare the living daylights out of me, I want her to maintain her creativity despite society steering her in an academic direction.  I want her to know how much, and how deeply I love her.  She is my world.

So, who is Chloe Noelle at the ripe age of THREE? 
She is 25 pounds of pure sweetness but don't let her fool you!  She has been nicknamed Drama for a reason!  Her other nicknames are Co, Coco, Puff, Puffers, Booger, and Josie Grossie.   She is very independent and is often playing by herself and engaging in imaginative play where she gives her toys funny little voices.  She is very girly but she also loves getting dirty (see nickname Josie Grossie).  She still uses a "W" sound for her "L" sound, I just wuv it when she wants to sit on my wap, or when she tells me something is wellow.  She is cuddly with me but not really anyone else and I secretly like it when she climbs in bed with me at night.  She loves to watch me put makeup on and likes it when I (pretend) give her some too.  She is obsessed with lotion (wotion!) and lippies (wippies!) aka lipgloss.  She absolutely loves being a big sister to Austen and will correct you if you happen to call him Bubba in her presence. 

Rainbow Baby

Austen turns six months old today!  He is 14.8 pounds...not up much from his 11+ pounds at birth!  He has two bottom teeth, is sitting up and army crawling.  He had his first taste of food tonight with an organic avocado.  He was not a fan and has a great gag reflex!  :)  He is such pure joy!  He is my Rainbow Baby (see definition below) and I love him so very much!




Rainbow Baby:  typically referring to a baby born after the loss of a previous pregnancy or the death of a child. Rainbow Babies are the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and the clouds. Storm clouds may still loom over but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy, and much needed hope.

Toofy!

Austen got his first tooth today on the bottom right!  He was only mildly fussy, nothing a few Hyland's Teething Tablets couldn't help!  I sure do hope he continues to be a good teether like Chloe was, Tucker always, always spiked huge fevers when he would get teeth and it was not fun at all!

Here Comes the Sun

It is soooo hot this week!!!!  It is supposed to be over 100 every day this week, ugh!  I am NOT a hot weather girl, I much prefer spring and fall but I am very thankful I am not pregnant this summer (sorry, Jill!)!  I feel for all the pregnant mommas this time of year! 

I am slowly getting out of my funk.  I think a lot of my mood change is due to finally reading Kelle Hampton's book, Bloom.  Gosh, I love that lady and her blog.  I admit, I used to rely on negativity and sarcasm as my way of life but have really turned that around since becoming a mom and Kelle's blog has been a huge part of my more positive outlook.  It takes effort to find the positive in things, especially when you feel like you can't catch a break, but the positive is there if you are willing to open your eyes and find it.  And with that, I am moving forward with my chin up and a smile on my face! 

And to kick off my new attitude, let's do a catch up of my beautiful children!

Capturing his beautiful auburn hair before his summer buzz cut

 Tucker has really been developing his imagination lately.  He loves for me to "announce" him and describe the obstacle course of his choosing as if we are doing a play-by-play sporting event.  He loves riding his bike, collecting (and accidentally killing) bugs of all kinds, is slightly obsessed with Spiderman, and loves to go to Grammie and Papa's house.  He has started to have some more food issues in addition to the intolerance to food dyes.  I am feeling hopeful of the track I'm on with identifying his triggers though and look forward to the day that we are done with them! 

My kitty girl

 Chloe continues to be full of sass and sweetness.  She loves to play Mommy and Baby.  She loves to be held and will look up at me with her big brown eyes and designate me as the Mommy <insert any animal you can think of here> and she is the Baby.  As evidenced by her picture, she asks to be a kitty almost every day and she wants a kitty birthday party this year.  Lest I forget, she puked in the peanut bucket at my birthday celebration at Texas Roadhouse last month!  I really need to be better about writing about all of their funny stories because I know I am forgetting soooo much!  She is a September 2nd baby so she misses the preschool start date by one day.  They said I could go ahead and start her if I wanted but I decided not to.  I don't want all of her friends to move on to kindergarten in a couple years when she would be left behind.  It seems much more kind to start her with the class she will graduate with even though she will be one of the oldest in her class.

Mr. Bright Eyes

Sweet Austen is just that, sweet as can be!  He is just happy as a clam and has the most intoxicating smile!  I actually get butterflies in my tummy when he smiles at me sometimes!  He is rolling over both ways and is starting to put his knees underneath him.  He is not quite ready to sit on his own yet but I don't think it will be much longer.  He is also about to get his first tooth, I can feel it under his gums.  Tucker and Chloe love him so much and they are so great with him!  He laughs easily and has the biggest blue eyes, just like his Daddy!   I so hope he keeps them!  He has really thinned out and I think he's around 15 pounds, wearing 3-6 & 6-9 month clothes. 

Let It Shine or Let It Go?

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others. " 

- Marianne Williamson

I had a friend on Facebook post the above quote today and something about it really resonated with me.  


Since moving to our new town almost a year ago, I have found myself "shrinking" my personality down in order to make friends.  Now, don't get me wrong...I am definitely not an extrovert pretending to be an introvert.  I am, and will always be an introvert.  But I have found myself staying quiet during conversations that involve things I'm passionate about (pregnancy, labor, childbirth, breastfeeding, childhood nutrition, etc).  Conversations that if I was having them with friends or family, I would be very animated and outspoken, yet among strangers I remain silent.  I hate that feeling.  I hate walking away from something with the feeling that if I just would have spoken up, I could have helped someone think outside the box. 


I am so afraid of stepping on toes that I am not being my authentic self.  What is the right balance?  Or is there a right balance as long as what you speak is your truth and if people don't like it, they don't have to?  I am really struggling with this because I feel like on some level I have to choose one or the other.  


I am still having a lot of negative self talk regarding my whole "Turd in the Punchbowl" post.  I still think about it every day and if I let it, it can still make me cry. I bared my soul with my birth post, shared a very intimate experience with my readers and I was attacked on a personal level because of it.  I really do feel like a huge bucket of water was thrown on my flame and I guess I'm trying to figure out if the flame can be reignited. 

Breaking the Girl

As any mom knows, once you cross that threshold of becoming a mom, you never really, truly get any time to yourself.  This includes trips to the toilet and showering. 

Especially trips to the toilet and showering.

I generally shower at night in order to afford myself a nice long shower without interruptions but today I decided to take a mid-morning shower since it was the weekend and Ryan was available to oversee the childhood shenanigans. 

Not only did I want to take a shower that would last more than five minutes, I wanted the door to be shut so I could get the bathroom nice and hot, (as my usual day shower is spent with the door wide open and me sticking my sudsy head out repeatedly checking for baby cries) I also wanted the door to be locked so I, for once, didn't have little heads popping into the curtain or little ones' poops distracting from my buttercream scented bodywash . 

No sooner than I had started the hot water, undressed and was ready to get in, there was a knock on the door.  I answered and it was Chloe, needing to potty.  I was irritated, as it seems that without fail, as soon as my shower water is started, it imparts a laxative effect on one or both of the older kids' colons and my showers are spent having deep conversations while the kids pinch a loaf.  I was, admittedly, a little snippish with her, helped her potty and then scooted her booty out the door, locking it behind her. 

I took my shower and got out about 15 minutes later.  When I was combing my hair, Chloe came up to me and told me I hurt her feelings.  Not really knowing what she was talking about, I brushed it off, clipped a barrette in her hair and we went about our day. 

Later in the day, we were driving in the car and Ryan told me what happened while I was in the shower. 

He found Chloe in her closet, in the dark.  She was sobbing.  I had hurt her feelings by being short with her and locking her out of the bathroom.  My heart broke into a million pieces!  My poor, sweet baby girl!  Something I didn't even recall had completely crushed her!  I felt like a piece of crap, to say the very least! 

I tried making it up to her later with extra hugs and affection but I feel like it is too late.  She was sobbing in the dark in her closet because of ME and my selfishness of wanting to be alone.  I have never claimed to be a perfect parent, a perfect parent does not even exist, it's not even in the realm of possibilities.  But I do try and today I failed.  Miserably.  :(

Scratch That

Well, I gave it a try, but Simeon's Protocol (the hCG diet) just isn't going to work for me while I'm nursing full time (have I mentioned that Austen still has not taken a bottle?  He is such a stinker!).

I think my milk supply was probably fine, he seemed satisfied but I was seriously craving protein and fat!  I just need to listen to my body and come to accept that the weight loss (for now) will have to be slow.  I am going back to a low carb/Paleo type of eating but I am going to keep an eye on my calories.  I'm not going to "count" calories, but I have a tendency to use an obscene amount of heavy cream in my coffee so I will make sure I don't go overboard on things like that. 

The good news is that I did lose my "load" weight so I'm not carrying that over with me.  I am very much looking forward to eating a normal amount of food tomorrow! 

Mojo

Since having Austen (how is he nearly four months old already????), I seem to have lost my mojo.  Before finding out I was pregnant with him, I was on the tail-end of losing a large amount of weight and was closing in on my goal.  Now.....er, not so much.  I gained entirely too much during my pregnancy with him and despite breastfeeding, I am still up thirty pounds from my pre-pregnancy weight.  Ugh.  Not a good feeling when none of your clothes fit right and the scale is not moving in the right direction, if at all! 

So, what's a girl to do?  For one, I need to stop making excuses.  I know how to eat clean and the fact is, I am extremely hit and miss on this lately.  I will go a few weeks doing a great job and then the craving monster will visit and I will eat horribly for a week.  Secondly, I need to exercise.  As much as I would love to say that "breastfeeding is like having a treadmill strapped to my chest" like I've heard others say, that is not, and has never been, the case for me.  I am just not one of the lucky ones who drop weight simply by nursing. 

I have decided that Austen is old enough now to go back to what worked for me a year ago.  (You can read about it here on my "old" blog).  When I first started doing the hcg diet, I was nursing a 10 month old Chloe so I am confident that 21 days of a restrictive diet will not impact our nursing relationship.  It should go without saying (but I will say it anyways) that if I notice a lack of milk supply, I will immediately stop my round as Austen is my #1 priority. 

Because this program is very restrictive, one of the things I stress the most to our clients is to check the calendar and make sure there are no social commitments during a round.  Planning is the key to success with this!  My 34th birthday is May 26th so I have decided that will be my first day (the first two days on this plan is to eat like a pig so it will be perfect timing!).  I plan on doing 2 rounds over the summer month and then re-evaluating my goals.  Stay tuned!

Is That a Turd in the Punchbowl?

I have recently been accused of telling the story of Austen's birth to project some sort of machisma.  For those of you who felt I was blogging in order to stroke my own ego or brag about myself, I am sorry you mistook my words (and must not know me very well, either).  Once those feelings were relayed to me, I immediately deleted my posts and considered never blogging again.

I was embarrassed that I had been horribly misunderstood and my feelings were very hurt.  As I wrote about in the first part of this story, the only reason I decided to blog about this was to tell the story from my perspective.  Never in a million years would I have guessed someone would think I was doing so for self-serving purposes.

Perhaps I should have just asked those on Facebook who "outed" me to delete their posts, perhaps I should have just left well enough alone and not told the story at all.  But why?  I love hearing about other people's birth experiences and thought maybe people would like to hear mine.   The truth is, even though my original intention was not to publicly discuss Austen's birth, I enjoyed writing it for others to read even though it made me feel incredibly vulnerable.   I blogged about Tucker and Chloe's births and those stories weren't seen as self-serving, so why was this? 

I don't have (or want) a large readership so when I get negative feedback, it hurts.  My readers are literally my friends and family so it stings even more when someone who is supposed to know me perceives me as someone I am not.  I don't expect everyone to always agree with what I have to say, I am not delusional.  I know that I am still being judged even after telling the birth story, and I'm okay with that.  I am not seeking anyone's approval over my experiences, whether related to Austen's birth story or otherwise.

Thanks to my mom's encouragement, the birth story is back up.   This is my blog, my story and I will not allow anyone to make me feel badly about what I want to say.

Austen's Story Part IV: A Million Miles

"It is always the simple things that change our lives."  

Donald Miller

My mom arrived about five minutes after Austen was born, she had gotten lost because she had never driven to our place in the dark before. She later told me that she’s glad she got lost because she thinks she would have been way too anxious and would have freaked out. One of the first things she said was, “he’s BIG!” He definitely looked big to me, but no bigger than Tucker was and we made guesses as to what he would weigh.



Ryan’s biggest fear in all of this was that I would hemorrhage and he would lose me. The birth pool water was now blood tinged and he was showing and expressing concern. I insisted I was fine and explained that it looked worse than it was just because of the dilution of blood in the water. I was cramping intensely so I knew my uterus was working on detaching the placenta. I don’t remember the pain of that from Chloe’s birth! I actually had to breathe through the cramps as we talked about the logistics of getting me out of the water and into the bedroom to deliver the placenta.




With Ryan, Jill, and my mom’s help, I moved into our bedroom to snuggle with my boy while I waited for the umbilical cord to stop pulsating. While I relaxed in bed and nursed Austen, the others were busy cleaning up the birth pool and tended to me as needed. I was so thirsty after the birth, I’m pretty sure I drank about ten glasses of water in an hour’s time! Ryan was still concerned about hemorrhage, even though I was bleeding very minimally so I took a dose of Shepherd’s Purse, which is an herb that helps the uterus contract and minimize bleeding. I took it just to give him peace of mind, I definitely didn’t need it. About thirty minutes after the birth, the placenta detached and I had instant pain relief once it was out. Once the cord stopped pulsating, we tied it off with sterile gauze and Ryan cut the cord with sterilized scissors.

Tying off the cord

Looking at the placenta

My mom cleaning the cut end of the cord

Now that Austen had nursed and he was separate from me, I handed him over so people could hold him while I cleaned up a bit. Once I was presentable, I went into the living room to find my dad had arrived. I sat in the recliner and visited a bit until we decided it was time to weigh and measure him. I had guessed he would be 9lbs. 6ozs. Imagine my shock when the scale was reading over eleven pounds! We decided the scale must be wrong and we would see what he weighed at the doctor the next day, but we were guessing he was probably around ten pounds.

Papa meeting Austen

Measuring him up

My parents and Jill left shortly after and we called my in-laws to come over so Austen could meet his other grandparents and his big brother and big sister, but first we had to tell them what we had done. Ryan started the conversation with, “don’t freak out, everyone is fine, but we had the baby at home.” I’m not sure if they freaked out or not, if they did, they did a great job of concealing it when they arrived. Tucker and Chloe were quite enamored with Austen but they were tired so they didn’t stay long.



I decided I would try to get some rest in the recliner; Austen was nursing almost constantly so I just reclined back and got very broken sleep, probably about two hours’ worth. First thing in the morning, I called our doctor’s office to schedule an appointment for Austen to be examined, just to make sure everything was okay. I was able to get him an appointment at 11am and I had my 41 week appointment at the obstetrician’s office at 1pm. I wanted to keep that appointment to just to make sure I was okay, as well.



We arrived for Austen’s appointment and found out that, yes indeed, he was probably over eleven pounds at birth because fifteen hours after his arrival, he was weighing in at 10lbs. 14ozs.!!! I was floored and just could not believe it! He checked out just perfectly and we were sent on our way!

He weighs how much?!

We grabbed some lunch and then headed to my appointment at the obstetrician’s office. Since my doctor was out of town, I was scheduled with a doctor I had never met before and I was very nervous about how she would react to our situation. I knew nothing about her personality or professional reputation. We walked in and as I headed to the restroom, I asked Ryan to check me in and let the front desk know that we had the baby at home and we needed to change my visit from a prenatal appointment to a postpartum checkup. Their reactions were hysterical! They were so shocked to hear I had him at home and even more shocked when I told them how much he weighed! The nurses decided that they should rename me Caroline Ingalls!




The doctor came in and she couldn’t have been nicer to me! I really liked her and felt comfortable immediately. She examined me and determined that there was no repair needed (my body is amazing, if I do say so myself!). She then examined my placenta, which was hysterical! She had her gloves on and picked it up out of the bowl and paused. Finally she said, “Um, they aren’t normally cold.” We all had a good laugh and then she paused again and I could tell she was trying to carefully choose her words so she didn’t stick her foot in her mouth. I knew what she was thinking so I said, “if you don’t have a way to dispose of it, we can just take it back home; we have some land and we can bury it or something.” There was a look of relief on her face, she said they didn’t have a biohazard container appropriate for it, so we brought it home with us where it is currently living in our freezer (you can stop dry heaving now, it’s not like it’s touching our food!). Some people eat their placenta, some people encapsulate it and take it as a nutritional supplement; I think we will probably plant it underneath a tree this spring as we really don’t know what else to do with it.



And there you have it, Austen’s birth story from beginning to end. This was life-changing for me; I have never relied so much on my faith in God and myself.  I was left feeling empowered to do just about anything I desire.   I read a book over a year ago entitled A Million Miles in a Thousand Years by Donald Miller. The book is about living an extraordinary life and living your life as if it is a screenplay. Write yourself a script that forces change and evolution within yourself.  This birth changed me, however, it was certainly not my last chapter; there are many, many more adventures to be had.  I am only just beginning to write…

Austen's Story Part III: Amazing Grace

"I am not afraid, I was born to do this."
~Joan of Arc

Friday (the last day my obstetrician would be available to me) came and went and there were no signs of labor. I knew I was having a big baby from the way I felt physically. I had never been “overdue” before and the baby’s potential size was at the forefront of my mind, as babies gain about an ounce per day in late pregnancy. I was really being tested in the last few days of pregnancy, more prodromal labor and more desperation in my mood and demeanor. Ryan and I discussed how overdue I was willing to go before the whole home birth plan was scrapped. We wanted a healthy mom and baby above anything else and given my history of large babies (Tucker was 9lbs 4ozs, Chloe was 8lbs, 1oz), I knew I was in for a whopper of a kid! We decided that 40 weeks, 5 days was the deadline for a home birth; after that I would go to the birth center. I struggled internally with that decision because I felt like that meant I was not fully trusting God.



The morning of Monday, January 23rd (which just so happened to be when I was 40 weeks, 5 days…divine intervention, much?), I sent my mom and sister a text that read, “Who wants to distract me today?” to which my sister promptly called and said that she and her girls would come over to play. I was relieved to have visitors, a bit of distraction was going to do a great deal of good for my spirit. Soon after I hung up the phone with her, I went to the restroom and was surprised and thrilled to see some bloody show. I knew that meant labor could be anywhere from a few hours to a few days away, but I was encouraged to see something going on!



Jill, Emma and Cora visited for a couple of hours and left just after lunch. Tucker, Chloe and I all took a short afternoon nap and then continued with a nice, quiet afternoon at home. I was talking to my mom on the phone around 3:15pm when I had a fairly strong contraction and I felt a gush during it. I was sitting down at the time so I think my water must have broken. I am still very unsure of when that actually happened since I never felt a pop. I didn’t say anything to her, but quickly got off of the phone to see if I was going to have another.



Several minutes later, I had another contraction that was somewhat intense for early labor. I decided to call my mother-in-law to come pick up Tucker and Chloe, as I knew solitude was my best bet to getting into a good labor pattern. I was pretty sure “this was it” and needed time to get the house ready for the birth. When my mother-in-law picked the kids up, she warned me not to wait too long to go to the hospital since third babies can come quickly. I had to giggle at that, oh if she only knew what was about to happen! I also called Ryan and Jill and told them that I thought tonight was finally the night.



Once alone, I did some light cleaning and started setting up the birth tub and other supplies. There was quite a bit of set up since there was really no way to predict where I would be most comfortable giving birth. I was planning a water birth with an inflatable birth pool, but I needed to set up other areas just in case the water didn’t feel right in the moment.

Birth Supplies

I layered our bed with a set of clean sheets, followed by a shower curtain, followed by another set of sheets so clean up would be quick and easy. I also put a layer of Chux pads (absorbent sheets often used for incontinent adults) on the bed. Jill was bringing a space heater to make my room nice and toasty warm. I also put some Chux pads on the bathroom floor; for Chloe’s labor I was most comfortable laboring on the toilet so it was quite possible that baby could have been born in the bathroom. I started inflating the birth pool, threw some clean towels and blankets in the dryer (for warm towels after the birth) all the while having regular and increasingly intense contractions.



It was about 4:30 when Ryan made it home from work, which is also about the time I called Jill and told her to plan on coming over around 7pm unless she heard from me again. Ryan needed to take a shower and wanted to run to Subway to get some dinner. I have a history of fairly long labors so I can’t really blame him for wanting to eat but I told him to hurry as I had a feeling this labor was going to be fast. I just could not wrap my head around how intense things already were, just an hour into the labor! Ryan got home from Subway around 5:30 and brought me a bowl of soup, which I sat down and ate between contractions. Ryan ate his dinner and started filling the birth pool. The contractions were picking up in intensity and I could no longer walk or talk during them. At this point, around 6pm, I called Jill and told her to go ahead and come over as soon as she could instead of waiting until 7, this baby was coming!



I continued to labor, leaning onto Ryan during contractions. It was amazing to me how intense the contractions were when they started and how quickly they were coming. I was also so much more aware of the baby’s movements for this labor. Perhaps it was because nobody was monitoring me so it was up to me to pay attention to him to make sure he was okay and tolerating labor. He was very active during labor, kicking me sharply in the ribs, taking my breath away several times!



Jill arrived around 7pm when I was ready to get into the water. I was recognizing that I was in transition, as my mood was very focused and serious. I told her to go ahead and call my mom, which was a surprise to my mom. Prior to labor, I was unsure of how I was going to feel about adding another person to the mix so I had not shared with her that she may be invited, it was a total surprise to her that she was going to see the birth of her grandson. I just didn’t want to tell her ahead of time in case I changed my mind…I figured it was better to be surprised than to be disappointed.

Inflatable Birth Pool

I got into the pool and the contractions really picked up, lasting about two and a half minutes each and often coming back to back. I was honestly a little disappointed that the water did not help with the pain of the contractions like I had hoped, but it did feel good to be in the water. I was listening intently to my birth playlist (turn up your volume if you want to hear my playlist), which was playing carefully selected songs that brought me calm, peace, and encouragement. I was nearly silent during labor, breathing in and breathing out. Breathing my baby down, focusing on bringing him into the perfect position to meet his Mommy and Daddy. Ryan told me at one point that he couldn’t tell when I was having a contraction and when I wasn’t; I was calm, I was quiet, I was focused. I whispered that he just needed to listen to my breath, when I was breathing hard, I was contracting and when I was breathing slowly, I wasn’t. I know it was hard for him, but I did not want to be touched during this labor, I truly did want to just be left alone to do what I needed to do without any distraction.

Breathing during transition

He was so calm and encouraging, my rock!

I felt the contractions change from dilating contractions to pushing contractions and I knew it was time to push. I am not a big believer in pushing hard to get baby out so I just listened to my body and gave gentle pushes only when I felt an urge for several minutes. I was secretly wondering if I was indeed fully dilated…it was such a weird feeling to not have someone tell me it was okay to push. I decided to reach down to see if I could feel the baby’s head. I could feel his head and continued to gently breathe him down, giving short, gentle pushes when needed.

Pushing

I started to feel him crowning and reached down and felt his head come out. The crowning did not hurt nearly as bad as it did with Chloe, I think due to the water which was a nice benefit I didn’t expect! I very calmly told Ryan, “his head is out,” but Ryan thought I was asking if his head was out and tried to lean down to see. When he told me, “I don’t know hon, I can’t see” I calmly corrected him and said, “no, I’m telling you, his head is out.” I was touching his face and rubbing his head and ran my fingers around his neck to see if there was a nuchal cord, there wasn’t. It was an amazing feeling to feel his features before he was born!



At this point, I took a small break to catch my breath and mentally prepare to push his shoulders out. The next contraction came and I pushed and waited for his shoulders to release. I reached under his arms, turned my body to the sitting position (I had been on my knees with my upper body leaning into the side of the birth pool) and pulled my beautiful son onto my chest.

Exhausted, but so in love!

Once he was out and in my arms, Ryan grabbed a warm towel out of the dryer and Austen gave one solid cry. Then he just looked at me as I stared at him, he was so calm and alert and was just perfect! He looked just like Chloe, which was a huge surprise because according to one of our sonogram pictures, I was expecting a Tucker clone. I looked at Ryan and Jill and through emotional tears I said, “I did it!”



Austen Grey McMillen was born into my arms on January 23rd, 2012 at 8:03 pm, just a few hours after my first contraction. The labor was fast, it was intense, it was calm, it was everything I had dreamed it would be. He was born during the first verse of Amazing Grace, which happens to be my favorite hymn and the initials of his name. Poetic, don’t you think?

Austen's Story Part II: You're Gonna Do What?!

The first person I talked to about having an unassisted birth, of course, was Ryan. I asked him what he thought of the idea, trying to feel out if he was going to be supportive of my increasingly hippie ways. He was the one, afterall, that pointed out that we “could have totally done that by ourselves” after Chloe’s birth. He was immediately on board…or so I thought.


After getting his initial support, several weeks later I found out there was a miscommunication. He was under the impression we would be having a midwife attend the birth. When I clarified what an unassisted birth was, he was suddenly unsure and uncomfortable with the idea. He asked me to hire a doula at the very least (and I reminded him that he is a trained EMT). As much as I wanted to make him comfortable with an unassisted birth, I was uncomfortable with inviting someone I did not know to participate in my birth experience. Each of my previous birth experiences taught me that I am the type of person that needs to be left alone during labor and not have anyone unfamiliar around me. During Tucker and Chloe’s labors, any time a change was introduced or a new person came in, my labor would slow and stall out. I knew if I kept the number of people to a bare minimum, the easier and faster my labor and birth experience would be. If I was going to do this, it was going to have to be my way, and that meant just Ryan and my sister, Jill, who was going to come and take pictures for me.


I also ‘fessed up to my Mom. I had asked her to check out some library books for me (she is a library addict and goes weekly) and with my requested titles, it was obvious what I was up to. She was also supportive but as my due date got closer, she expressed concern. I could understand where my parents were coming from. Not only were they concerned about me and my health, but they were also considering how I would cope if, God forbid, things went wrong and there was a bad outcome for the baby. I reassured her as much as I could; I emphasized that I was prepared and willing to go to the hospital at the first sign of trouble or even if I had a gut feeling that I needed to go in at the onset of labor. I was not trying to prove any kind of point by birthing this way and of course a healthy outcome was of utmost importance to me.


The few friends I divulged my secret to were 100% supportive, which was so awesome! It was nice to have some people I could talk to, as the original plan was to never publicly discuss this. I knew if I did, I would be opening myself up to a crap storm of criticism and judgment, and really, who wants to deal with that? Certainly not me! So, why then, am I blogging about it? Well, mostly because we live in the day of social media, coupled with the fact that I live in a small town. I was “outed” on Facebook before I knew it and word spread like wildfire. I figured if I was going to be talked about (and I was), I might as well tell it from my perspective.

Austen's Story Part I: Answered Prayers

“Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you’ll be criticized anyway.”

~Eleanor Roosevelt

Okay, here’s the thing; I have received a lot of different reactions from people when they find out I had Austen at home, unassisted (meaning without any medical professionals). People are shocked, quite possibly horrified, and very curious. I thought I would write a post explaining how and why I came to this decision. I do want to preface this by saying that I made this decision as an informed, educated “birth junkie” and the decision was soley mine and I was willing to own the outcome. I believe that in the majority of cases, birth is safe, especially when not interfered with by the medical community (in other words every intervention opens the door to a possible complication that then needs to be managed). I view pregnancy, labor and birth as an honor and miracle rather than an inconvenience or disease.



For those of you who think I am off my rocker for having an unassisted birth, I understand where you are coming from. When I first encountered someone who was planning an unassisted birth, I thought she was nuts, not to mention playing Russian Roulette with her and her baby’s lives. Add to that, I have been a huge natural birth advocate since college so I can only imagine the reactions of those of you who do not share that passion! That’s the great thing about growing as a person….you get to learn from others and educate yourself and you hold the power to change your philosophy and mind, and possibly even your life. That is one of the biggest blessings I’ve had since becoming a mother; many of the things I originally scoffed at have been the things I have come to love and accept. I feel very differently about many things in the four years since becoming a mother and I am so grateful for the changes I’ve seen in myself. I used to describe myself as a stubborn person who only saw things in black and white with absolutely no room for grey. Today, although still very much stubborn, I am a much more positive and open-minded person and I am happier because of it. Grey is good.



So, how did I go from planning a birth attended by an obstetrician in a birth center to deciding to take the road less traveled and give birth at home with just Ryan and my sister present? Well, let’s just start at the beginning.



I found out I was pregnant with our third baby just a couple of weeks before my 33^rd birthday. This pregnancy was not planned and I was extremely surprised to see the line appear on the pregnancy test. Our previous pregnancy had ended in miscarriage so I was quick to call my obstetrician’s office the next day to set up my first prenatal appointment. My first appointment was in early June and I was relieved and excited to see the flickering heartbeat on the ultrasound I received that day.



Early pregnancy was easy on me, I had about 2 weeks of mild nausea as my only symptom. I had to constantly remind myself I was creating a life, I felt so good I actually worried if the pregnancy was progressing normally. Around September, I started to have a nagging feeling about my upcoming labor and delivery. I couldn’t pinpoint what I was uneasy about, but it was a feeling I just couldn’t shake and the anxious feelings I had needed to be addressed before they negatively impacted me and my baby. I had a great birth experience with my doctor when I had Chloe, I fully trust him and I know he respects birth and my decisions regarding how I want things to go. But something was telling me that delivering at the BirthCare Center was not what I was supposed to do for this birth. I considered switching my care to a midwife but that didn’t feel like the right fit either.

“The Will of God will not take you where the Grace of God will not protect you.”

One night I prayed before bed about what I should do and asked God to show me what His plan was for me. That night I had a dream that I had the baby at home with only Ryan present. I woke up feeling more peaceful than I had felt in weeks! I truly believe this was my answer from God and who was I to argue with that? I am not sure I’ve ever had such a clear answer from Him before and I was not about to question it. I started making my plans to have an unassisted birth at home, which involved a lot of research, reading, and preparation.



In my third trimester, I ended up being diagnosed with borderline gestational diabetes. My fasting numbers were a little bit high, in pregnancy the goal is to have the fasting number 90 or less and I was routinely in the mid-90s in the mornings. My after meal numbers were always on target at less than 120 two hours after eating, so I honestly wasn’t very concerned about it. In fact, my doctor even said that I could still deliver at the BirthCare Center because my numbers weren’t bad at all; if I had required insulin he would have had me deliver at the hospital because it would have classified me as high risk. The diagnosis didn’t shake me, I still planned on delivering at home, but it was nice to know that if I did decide to go in, I could go where I delivered Tucker and Chloe and not be forced to go to the hospital.



The last part of my pregnancy did not go as swimmingly as the first part. I started to become very physically uncomfortable toward the end battling sciatica and terrible pubic symphysis pain. There were days that just moving my legs was excruciating for me. Because of that, I stopped working in early January, which was much earlier than I had planned. I had somehow convinced myself that I would have the baby early, but he was determined to prove me wrong! Stubborn, just like his Mama!



January held many days of prodromal labor, more commonly known as “false” labor where the contractions are painful but they never lead to an active labor pattern. I would have hours of intense, regular contractions only to have them peter out eventually, leaving me disappointed and tired. I even had one night in particular that brought with it a constant contraction that lasted four hours without letting up! I tried everything I could to get it to go away; I took a bath, I walked around, I laid down, I drank water. I considered drinking some wine but decided against it. It finally went away around 5am, just in time to get a couple of hours of sleep before the kids woke up.



As my due date approached, I started to get more and more impatient and more and more depressed that the baby hadn’t come yet. I was receiving many texts, phone calls and messages asking me where the baby was, which only made me focus on the fact that he wasn’t here yet. At my 39 week appointment, my doctor asked me if I would like him to sweep my membranes (gently separate the amniotic sac from the cervix, which can help labor begin). Wanting to fully trust God’s plan for the pregnancy and birth, I decided against it. I knew that the baby would come when he was ready and I needed to trust my body and my baby for the perfect timing, despite how impatient I was getting. This, afterall, was not about ME.



At my 40 week appointment, I was 3 centimeters dilated, 70% effaced and a -1 station. My doctor told me he predicted I would go into labor anytime in the next two days. Then he told me that if I didn’t have the baby by Friday afternoon, I would have a different doctor delivering me because he was going on a medical missions trip for the next two weeks. Is that what God was telling me months ago when I couldn’t figure out why I felt so unsettled? Was it because my trusted doctor would not be the one attending my birth and I would be left to the doctor on call for their practice, who may or may not be respectful of my wishes? I had always maintained that if at any point before or during labor I felt it was necessary to go to the birth center, I would not hesitate to do so, but when I heard that my doctor would not be attending, I was further determined to have my baby at home.