Christian's birth.

It seems fitting to write this tonight.

I'm sitting here in bed, propped up with pillows and listening to little Bethie snuffling away in her sleep. She's tucked in beside me, blissed out on Mummy's milk, and dreaming about something that makes her twitch every now and then. Sometimes I wonder what babies dream about. Do they remember the birth? Or is it more dreaming about the new sensations and experiences of their short lives? Guess I'll never know. :-)

But this blog post isn't about her. I'm feeling the urge to write down Christian's birth story, so bear with me while I record those precious moments, for the first time.

After Livvy's birth and our rather traumatic experience with the midwives, I was pretty determined never to go to hospital again, barring an emergency. We were still living at the Mount, so I managed to find a midwife who agreed to attend my homebirth. She was so friendly, and we clicked immediately. I remember her saying that she was so excited about a homebirth, as she was getting sick of all the elective c-sections that were happening. I stayed with her as my carer for a few months, until we decided to make a big move and go dairy farming. Talk about a life-style change! We were so excited. :-) So, up we packed the family, and moved about 45 minutes away. My midwife wasn't comfortable with having to travel so far though, so she gave me a few names and contacts for other midwives, and we parted ways. I was gutted. It seemed such a daunting task to again find someone I was comfortable with.

Once we got to the farm, I did some googling and wrote out a list of potential midwives. I rang one of them, but she was full up with clients (gotta be quick around those parts, and I was already ohhhh I think about 12 weeks pregnant). So down the list I went. The next name was C (no, it wasn't C on it's own. That's obviously just the initial! Smartie.). I rang her and my first impression of her was how gentle she sounded. I didn't know that midwives came in the "gentle" group! She agreed to come out for a visit with me, even though she lived an hour away from our farm.

I was so nervous on the day she arrived... but for no good reason, because she is just the loveliest lady around. She sat down at our kitchen table and we chatted for a spell. She kept asking me questions and actually waiting to hear the answer. It was so...unusual, and really forced me to think about what I wanted in this birth.

And so a friendship...a beautiful friendship...was started. She would come out for her visits and always stay at least an hour. We'd laugh, talk, and I'd learn from her bottomless well of wisdom about pregnancy and birth. Most of what I know came from her. She ignited a fire and passion in me, that is still burning bright.

We opted for no ultrasounds in this pregnancy. This was a decision that I absolutely loved and felt completely comfortable with. It was almost magical knowing that I was the only one who'd ever connected with this baby. It felt like we  had a secret between us, and really caused me to learn to trust my body and trust in the Lord's protection of the pregnancy.

So 40 weeks pregnant, and I was still huge. This came as a surprise to me, as I'd given birth to Livvy on her due date, and fully expected for this baby to follow suit. Not so. My sister-in-law gave birth on this date instead. (Hi Vix, haha). I'd like to say I was so excited for her and didn't care that I was still pregnant while she got to pop hers out 3 weeks earlier... but I can't. I cried. And cried and cried. C arrived for her midwife visit and found me crying still. It hardly seemed fair! I'm laughing now as I type this, because it seems like such a minor thing... but back then, oh it was hard. So hard. My mum was visiting, and we were literally just waiting for me to give birth. She had to change her flight home not once, not twice, but three times. (I think it was three times. Might have only been twice. Too many, anyway!) We waited and waited and waited.

Finally, after 18 long days, I started to feel some twinges. We were travelling to church on a Wednesday night (45 minutes away) and I was feeling slight niggles. Not much, and to be honest, I didn't think much of them. I'm pretty sure I was convinced my body would never go into labour, and I'd be pregnant forever. ;-) I started to get timeable contractions during the service, but it wasn't until we stood up to pray that I felt them intensify. I remember talking to one of the men and basically hopping from one foot to the other with the intensity of it. Of course, I didn't think to let on that I was in labour! haha! Once we got in the car to come home, I let James know that things were hotting up. We stopped at the Service Station for some ice (remember how I ran the hospital out of ice at Livvy's birth?! lol!) and rang some of our support people to let them know that they might be in for a long night. ;-)

What a fun trip home that was. Once we got there, we found Mum had organised the lounge and set everything up. The fire was blazing cheerfully, and a storm was brewing up outside. Perfect!! My brother arrived not long after with my sister-in-law, her new baby, their two other children, and my sister. Dan wasn't so keen on attending the birth (lol), so he bunked up in the back room with the children. It was such a nice atmosphere and felt so cozy! I love the memory of that night.

I started to squat through my contractions and was handling them really well. Mum and James were on filling up the birthing pool, and (unknown by me at the time...) had to boil big pots of water on the top of our fireplace to try get it warm enough. Guess the water tank wasn't quite enough. Finally, about 11pm I said that I'd like our dear C to start heading this way. The contractions were getting harder, and I felt like I needed her reassurance. She arrived about midnight, and just quietly made herself at home in our lounge. That's what I love about her. She doesn't enter a birthing place with hustle and bustle. She doesn't make any noise, and just quietly sets up her gear and waits. I don't think I even acknowledged her for a while, but when I started to vomit from the intensity, she was there softly speaking just the right words to calm me down. I got into the pool not long after this, and laboured there for a while. The contractions were so much easier to bear in the water, although the intenisty and rawness of them was heightened. My backup midwife was called (they always have two midwives at a birth) and not long after I started the feel the pushing urges. This was a completely new experience for me, as I'd only pushed in a semi-reclined position before. For this birth, I was pushing in a deep squat. It was intense to say the least! The backup midwife was wonderful, and got right in front of me and told me to look in her eyes. Then she breathed with me. In and out and in and out. It helped ground me and helped me cope with the overwhelming sensations of a baby moving through the birth canal.

My waters broke just as I started pushing, and I remember looking up at everyone (the whole group of them were standing around the pool, haha) and asking what they thought the baby was. They were all like "girl!", and I either thought it or said it aloud (not sure which...lol) but I "said" "Nope, it's a boy", and then got to the task of birthing my beautiful little boy.

About ten minutes later, he was born. My sister Kate helped push him through my legs to me, and I was given the gift of lifting my son up from the water and straight into my heart. What joy! What amazement! I did it!!

We celebrated on the couch with him, with glasses of sparkling grape juice and carrot cake. :-P C showed us all the placenta and I got my first chance to see how it works. Amazing!! It was so surreal. I felt fantastic, and once all the checks were done, I was able to have a shower and get tucked into bed right beside my newborn son and husband. He was 8lb 14oz and chubby chubby chubby! I fell instantly in love that day. He is such a delight to our family. He finds humor in everything, and is always amusing us with his antics. Such a clown!

I have no photos of this birth. Nothing. I don't know why, we just never did it. But the memory of it is carved into my heart, and I bring it out often to look and wonder at the joy of our first homebirth. He paved the way for his sisters... such an adventurer!

Happy Birthday for tomorrow my sweet Christian. You are, and forever will be, a real joy and delight to me. No matter where life takes you, we will be behind you 100% as you seek to reach your potential for the Lord.

...man, I love that kid...

(and sorry guys, it wasn't Beth's story. That one is still coming. I just thought it fitting to write this one today, as it happened exactly 3 years ago...)

(and excuse any typos. I'm verrrrry tired, and Bethany is stirring, so spell-checking will have to wait for another day...)