Meeting Thomas Treat

We have another son!  His name is Thomas Treat and he is perfect.  This is his story.

On Thursday, June 29, my mom offered to take my kids overnight.  Usually, I turned down these offers, but I thought the alone time would be good for rest, personal time, and one last date with Anson, as my due date was the very next day.  I spent the hours cleaning, hanging curtains, and relaxing.  Unfortunately, my anxiety about birth began to pick up, even plaguing me during my movie date with Anson.

I slept in on Friday, but woke up very nervous and emotional.  I tried to keep busy, but nothing was distracting enough.  Then, out of nowhere, I was prompted to go to the temple.  I ran the last of my errands and followed that little nudge.  During my time in the temple, I had a good, long cry and a spiritual experience that wiped away all of my worry and doubt.

The rest of my day was spent washing baby clothes, packing my birth bag, and installing the car seat.  (Yes, I procrastinated until my due date!)  By the time my parents dropped off the kids, I was feeling much more calm and prepared.  Anson tried to get me to go out to eat with my parents, but I had a strong need to be home, in my safe place.

I woke up Saturday morning to find a small amount of mucus and bloody show.  Historically, this sign meant that I would go into labor within 24 hours, so I alerted my mom and started to wonder when things would happen.  I decided to grab some donuts for the family, but was surprised when I only managed to eat one - my appetite had disappeared!

Clara and I grabbed smoothies and met up with my friend, Jenna, for pedicures.  We had fun and Jenna kept my mind occupied with non-birth topics for a few hours.  Back at home, I wondered what to do with myself.  I was still having bloody show, but not a single contraction and no nausea.  I decided to take a nap.

Around 4:00 pm, I woke up and moved to the couch, to lay by Anson and watch a movie.  I thought I felt a contraction, but it didn't hurt at all.  Plus, I had never gone into labor during the daytime before.  I tried to check myself a few times, but everything felt different.  Either I wasn't dilated at all OR I was dilated a few centimeters, but my cervix was still tipped back.  What did it mean?

Anson picked up a pizza and I only managed two bites.  I was still laying on the couch, wondering about the potential contractions I was having.  They still didn't hurt, they were 6+ minutes apart, and I had never been able to lay down during labor before.  What was going on?

The kids joined us on the couch and we put on Moana.  I was still feeling totally normal, but Anson insisted on having my parents drive to our house.  Soon after they arrived, around 9:30 pm, I started walking through contractions, mostly trying to test if they hurt and if they would get closer together.  I felt a small amount of pain, but was still able to talk normally during the waves.

I called the midwife, Maribeth, and she suggested I come in, as my main worry about birth had been arriving too late in the process.  I told her I'd think about it and call her back.  After another half hour, contractions were slightly closer together, about 4.5 minutes, but still mild.  I decided we'd go to the birth center, just to get checked, as I was really confused about what was going on.  Anson took a shower, I changed my clothes, and my dad and Anson gave me a blessing.  The kids were in bed, but not asleep, so we said goodnight and left them with Mimi.

The drive over wasn't painful like it had been in the past.  We arrived to the birth center around 10:30 pm and I was happy to see Maribeth was already inside, waiting for me.  Mom and Dad pulled in right behind us.  It was strange being there and being of sound mind, so unlike the other times.  Maribeth checked my vitals and listened to the baby.  She wasn't going to check my progress, but I insisted.  I was 8-9 cms!!!  That totally shocked me, because I didn't feel transition (shakes, sweating) like I did with my others. After that, I thought, "What do I do now?!" Apparently, even though I was almost complete, the baby was "floating" and my cervix wasn't fully pointing down, so Maribeth suggested I try different positions to encourage baby to engage.

Anson and I were left alone in the room. He put on music and I was taking contractions in silly positions. It was actually fun! Maribeth suggested that Anson and I lift my belly during a few contractions and that really helped/hurt. This was finally the point where contractions got painful and uncomfortable. I decided to get in the tub, which felt great, but was also scary, as I knew the hard work would be happening there. I think I got in around 11:45 pm. Anson, Maribeth, and Jenna (my friend and nurse) were all wondering if the baby would be born July 1st or 2nd. I had guessed for the past few weeks that it would be July 2nd (making bang 2 days late, as my others had been 4, 1, and 3 days late).

Everyone left the room again, except Anson and I, so I started doing purposeful, grunty pushes to get baby to drop. At first, the baby was high, but with each contraction the baby moved lower. Eventually, I could even feel the water start to bulge, which was super exciting! I knew once it broke, it would only be minutes until birth.

Only 1-2 contractions later and my water began to bulge out of my body.  I ran my finger over it and felt it pop.  I told Anson to get the midwife!  Maribeth and Jenna quickly came into the room and Jenna listened to the baby.  My mom came in, too.  Maribeth asked if I felt baby boy or baby girl hair, and it was at that moment that I realized that the head was almost crowning!  At that point, I tried my best to keep the baby from moving back.  One or two more contractions and I felt the head start to crown!

I wanted to hold back and take things slow, but as I knelt there, trying to decide, the pressure and stretching became too intense to pull back from.  It felt like I was about to rip in half, but only a few seconds later, the baby's head was born.  Maribeth was very relaxed and told me it was fine to wait for the next contraction.  I kept my hands on the baby's head to keep it still.  I could feel the baby's eyelids and was even able to look down and see the head through the clear water.  Crazy!

A contraction started, but the shoulders gave resistance.  Maribeth helped me point the head down and after one painful moment, the baby was born!  (12:15 am)  I lifted the baby to my chest and sat back.  He screeched the loudest shriek I've ever heard!  I saw and announced that it was a boy, which totally shocked me! I felt so happy and in such great spirits.  I put my legs up on the side of the tub and asked someone to bring my dad into the room.  He looked pretty impressed!  I love those first few moments after birth.

It was time for the placenta, so Dad left the room.  All of my past midwives made me get out of the tub to deliver the placenta, by Maribeth let my choose.  I didn't really care and apparently it was almost there anyway, so out it came.  The clear water slowly turned pink while my placenta, still attached to my baby boy, floated nearby.  It was kind of weird, but also amazing!

I eventually made my way to the bed, baby and I were checked, and the evil afterpains began. Thomas weighed 7 lbs 11.5 oz and was 19.5" long. He nursed for the first time while I ate four of the best tasting freezer waffles ever! Then, before we took a nap, we FaceTimed Anson's parents in Japan.  Of course, I was too excited to sleep (like every other birth!), so I stared at my baby as my heart bursted with gratitude for such an amazing experience and a perfect baby.

It's 3 months later and I still can't believe what a wonderful birth I was given. We are so blessed!

Clara's Birth Story
Steven's Birth Story
Robert's Birth Story

Robert's Birth Story

This is the birth story of Robert Wallace, my second son.  He was born on April 15, 2015 at 8:05 a.m.  He was 20.5 inches long and 7 lbs. 12 oz., our heaviest baby yet.  

I was nervous to give birth again, unmedicated, so I halfway convinced myself that I’d be pregnant forever.  Due to months of awful Braxton Hicks contractions, I worried that I wouldn’t know when labor was starting.

Early Tuesday morning, I was awoken by what I thought were contractions, but I quickly fell back to sleep.  I was going to be pregnant forever, remember?  I had my 40 week appointment a few hours later.  It was the first appointment I’d attended without Clara and Seven in tow, thanks to the kindness of a ward member.  It was nice to have a real conversation with the midwife.  Thankfully, all was well with baby and me.  I had to set up my 41 week appointments, including extra monitoring for being overdue.  For the first time, I thought it might be a good idea for the baby to make their entrance.

Around 4:30 that afternoon, I had another clue that labor was approaching: bloody show.  I informed my mom, but had to convince her to stay in Globe – I didn’t want the pressure to perform.  I decided to go teach ballet, which Anson thought was insane.  I was just happy to have a distraction!  When I walked into the studio, everyone was shocked to see me.  Apparently there had been a rumor started the day before that my baby had been born!  I was amused, but sorry to disappoint.  The rest of the night went normally.  Anson finished building the cosleeper, my brother-in-law came over to give me a blessing, and I went to bed early, all just in case I went into labor that night.

Sometime after midnight, I lost the battle of sleeping through possible contractions.  It was almost unbelievable that contractions could be so strong, yet still 15-20 minutes apart.  I tried to stay in bed, to rest, but I soon found myself jumping to my feet as a wave would start, eager to walk through the pain.  I was definitely confused; it couldn’t be labor!

At 3:03 a.m., I decided to time the pains.  I thought I could prove that I was being a huge wimp.  The pains were 10-12 minutes apart, plus the occasional 6-8 apart.  No way it could be real labor, right?

Finally, at 4:20 a.m., I decided to experiment.  What would happen if I didn’t get back in bed?  Would labor pick up or die out?  When the next five contractions were 4-6 minutes apart, I was shocked.  How did that happen?!  I decided to call my mom.  I reluctantly updated her on my situation and told her we could just “hang out” if nothing happened.  That was at 4:45 a.m.  Half an hour later, I was on the phone with Amy, the midwife.  She said we should meet at the birth center around 6:15-6:30 a.m.  At that point, I was still unconvinced that I was in labor, but part of me hoped that 6:30 wouldn’t be too late.

My mother-in-law soon arrived to watch the kids.  By that time, contractions were 3-4 minutes apart, and I could tell that my mother-in-law was worried.  I started to worry, too, and headed towards the car, knowing full well that we would beat the midwife, but feeling a very strong desire to be at the birth center, regardless. 

During the car ride, I focused on counting all of my body parts during contractions.  When we arrived, I exited the car and noticed my feet were soaked with sweat.  I also started shivering and my teeth were chattering.  It was about this time that I finally started to believe that I might really be in labor.  Anson took over the contraction timer, while I paced the parking lot, with a towel draped over my shoulders.  The 20 minutes it took for Amy to arrive seemed like an eternity.  I felt vulnerable and unable to progress.  I suddenly realized that my mom probably wouldn’t make it in time for the birth.

I was feeling a lot of downward pressure during contractions outside the birth center.  I both wanted to keep my legs together to stop progress and open them up by a foot it get it over with.  Once inside, Amy checked me and said I was almost at the end of transition (translation from the future: 9cm).  The tub was filling SO SLOWLY, so I walked in circles, pants-less, with my eyes closed, desperately willing it to be full.

FINALLY!  I was able to enter the tub and it was a huge relief, both mentally and physically.  Then, things got weird.  My contractions spaced out and got much less intense.  My mom showed up (yay!), so I thought maybe things would pick up.  Nope.  I was very present and alert at this time.  I began questioning Amy about what was taking so long.  She said my waters were still intact and “helping” the baby to descend slowly.  OH HECK NO!  I started to get very impatient.  The only thought in my head was that I needed to break my own water, to get the baby out.

That strange period lasted for 1-1.5 hours.  Contractions spaced out and lessened in intensity.  I was just kneeling in the tub, waiting for something to happen.  I was so annoyed with everything, especially when people tried to remind me of my birth plan (“let my body push, don’t interfere”) and how I believed in “natural”. I’ll admit that I did try to break my own water, every time I thought someone wouldn’t notice!  (For this online birth story, I’ll leave out the details of that endeavor!) Time dragged on, my feet fell asleep, I tried different positions, I did a lot of complaining, but nothing happened.

And then, all on its own, IT BROKE!  I was so happy and announced it proudly.  Yay!  (7:57 a.m.)  The downward pressure immediately increased.  The contractions intensified and quickened.  I gave small pushes during the surges to help baby drop.  With each inhale and exhale I would tilt my head from right to left.  Suddenly, I felt the head bulging and almost crowning.  My left hand quickly and instinctively dove down to lend support.  The midwife and nurse heard the splash of my hand and rushed into the room.

With each inhale, I imagined lava and fire, but with each exhale, I imagined blowing snow onto the painful burn, extinguishing it.  The first crowning push (8:03 a.m.) didn’t seem to stretch me enough, so I tried to hold back.  It was extremely painful, much more than I remember with Steven, so I found it difficult to control myself.  As much as it hurt to do so, I tried my best to keep the head crowning until the next contraction.  Then, in the next surge or two, the head finally emerged.  What an amazing relief!! The midwife instructed me to grab the head and I vividly remember feeling a tiny ear with my left hand.  It was magical!  I asked Amy if I could wait for another contraction to birth the shoulders.  She was hesitant and asked for “grunty pushes” while she checked the neck for a cord.  Amy then told me to lean a different direction (very hard to do!) and to push.  Then – I pushed!  My baby was born and lifted out of the water, onto my chest, at 8:05 a.m. 

The baby was silent at first, but I saw his eyes moving.  For a split second, I thought (and asked aloud) that something might be wrong.  While Amy rubbed his back, he let out his first cry.  Hallelujah!  I peeked between baby’s legs and then subtly showed Anson.  Another boy!  I knew it!

Everything from that moment on went smoothly.  Only the after-pains gave me any bother.  Robert was a perfect blessing.  Breastfeeding was amazing (well, at least until my milk came in!).  I escaped without any injuries.  Anson and I were able to take a nap while my mom and Mimi loved on the new baby.  The day was wonderful, magical, and sacred in every way. 

Usually, the birth story would end there, but I have to add this gem:

On the way home from the birth center, a few hours later, Anson drove me through a cute neighborhood.  In actuality, he was checking up on a job site!  His brother walked up to the truck and said, surprised, “Oh my heck!  Is that your wife in there?”  We all laughed.  I’m not sure how many husbands take their wives and hours-old babies to work with them!  I don’t think I’ll ever let Anson live that story down. 

A Mother and A Son

Welcome to the world, Steven Edward.  This is your story.

It was Mother's Day, the day after my due date.  I spent the morning in church, listening to men, women, and children tell stories about their mothers.  It made me wonder what memories you might share about me someday. I wondered about the long road that lay ahead of us, the journey that would begin with a labor and a birth, so special to me, yet so normal in the span of Man's existence.

I didn't know when you would be coming, but I assumed that the time was close.  I couldn't help being nervous.   Was I strong enough to do this again?

After church we watched a movie together, crossing our fingers that your sister would fall asleep for a nap.  Finally, she dozed off and your father and I snuck out to the living room to finish our movie.  It was 3:10 pm and I had just finished an otter pop when I shifted my hips and my water broke!! Water started pooling between my legs while your father ran for a towel. There was so much that it spilled over onto the carpet while he was on his second run. Once everything was under control, we just stared at each other. I don't think either one of us had ever expected my water to break without any contractions. 

I was extremely nervous. All I could think about were the stories I'd heard of how much worse contractions felt without your water bag. Yikes. I chewed on my nails and googled while I sat on a towel. Your father texted Dianne, the doula. I called my mom. Eventually my father-in-law came over to help give me a blessing. I cried at first, but was soon overcome with comfort and reassurance. 

We grabbed some Arby's and headed over to my your Aunt Becca's house. I couldn't eat much, not even the delicious peanut butter bars that she made for me. I wasn't in any pain yet and I was unsure if I was even having contractions. We left their house around 7:30 to get Clara and the house prepped for what we expected to be a long night. 

The midwife, Wendi, stopped by to check me at 8:30 pm. My mom and grandma arrived a few minutes before her. She listened to baby's heartbeat and checked positioning. She gave me some herbs to take if contractions didn't start, but she was positive that she would hear from us before 3:00 am. 

We put Clara to bed and everyone tried their best to rest. I closed my eyes around 10:00 pm, but I couldn't sleep. At 11:00 pm I started to wonder if I had had a few contractions. They felt like braxton hicks and only came every 15-30 minutes. I then started to worry that I would never go into labor and became much too anxious to fall asleep. Sometime amidst all this wondering and worrying, I noticed that I was having contractions!

At 12:45 am I started timing contractions. They were all 0:50-1:30 in length and 4 minutes apart. Dianne, who must have great intuition, texted me at 1:00 am. I was unsure when I should head in to the birth center, as I didn't want to arrive too early. I did most of my laboring in my bedroom, on the birth ball or walking around. I had to move my hips and breathe deeply through each contraction. Your father and Grandma were with me at this point. Anson was totally calm and playing on his computer.  Your grandma was worrying that I would have you right then and there!

I did really well handling the contractions, though every third or so contraction hurt much worse than the others. At one point my doula told me to try to rest on my side in between contractions. This caused a 9 minute gap in contractions and then when one hit, I was writhing on the ground in pain. Needless to say, I didn't lay down again!

At 3:19 am I texted Dianne that I thought I was ready to head in. The contractions were still 4 minutes apart, but were getting stronger. As soon as I had a contraction with a double peak (2:30 long!), I knew I shouldn't wait much longer. 

We woke up your grandma and loaded into the car. I was shivering as I got inside. (I wondered if this meant transition, but I told myself it was just nerves!) Your father was driving like a mad man, so fast that Grandma was getting sick and had to ask him to slow down. I was taking the contractions one at a time, moving my hips with each one and focusing on keeping my hands totally relaxed. 

We beat the midwife to the birth center by a few minutes. When she parked I was pacing the parking lot, in the middle of a contraction. By now they were 3 minutes apart. She opened the door and we said hello. At this point I still felt pretty normal between contractions. 

Once in the room, I got the shivers again. I stopped timing contractions at 4:03 am.  Wendi started to fill the tub. She then checked the baby's heartbeat and my vitals. I walked and danced with my contractions. With each one I would take inventory of all of my body parts that weren't in pain, especially my feet that somehow continued to move my body along. In between contractions I would run my fingers along different pieces of furniture. (Everyone laughed about it afterward, but in the moment it really helped to keep me grounded!)

At 4:30 am Wendi asked if she could check me. I consented after she promised me that I would be "far enough along." I was afraid to lay down (and take a contraction in that position), but she was quick and announced, "8 cm!" I was relieved!

After that, I got into the tub. I wasn't sure if it eased the pain, but I felt okay, so I decided to stay and give it a shot. I sat on my knees during the contractions while Anson put a cool cloth on my neck. I also started to move my head in circles during contractions. My mom switched with your father and started tickling my back. Suddenly I felt a downward pressure/motion within me and I said quietly, "Oh my gosh." I didn't say or do anything else, because I thought I might have imagined/wished it. With the next contraction or two, I started to feel a bulge. I could also feel that I was slightly open. I stayed on my knees, put my left arm along the back of the tub, and felt down below with my right. The next contraction had me crowning involuntarily (4:58 am). I gave a little test push and felt a lot of stretching, so I backed off and waited. I started talking (in my head) to you at this point, telling you to work with me to not damage my perineum. The next contraction, I almost had you out, but again, I just let myself stretch and took my time. The next contraction, I heard the midwife say something about backing off, so I started whispering, "back off, back off, back off," but it was too late, because your head popped out!! (Your father and grandma had no idea that you were that close, until they saw your head appear!) I spulled my right leg forward into a kneeling lunge to wait for the rest of your body. At that point I felt great and was able to look up at everyone and ask if you were okay underwater. They said, "Yes," so I sat back a little bit and waited for the next contraction. (I also asked if your eyes were open underwater. Haha! I remember thinking that it was so weird to feel so good with a baby's head hanging out of me!) The last contraction came and I was momentarily surprised that I needed to push a little bit to get your shoulders out.  I gave a tiny push and you emerged, born into my hands at 5:02 am.

Everything was so clear and calm. I didn't cry. I just looked down into your beautiful eyes and tried to memorize the moment. My mom was crying. I eventually moved your towel aside and let Daddy see and announce your gender (a boy!) and he began to cry (he wanted a boy so bad!). I felt amazing, so confident, so powerful, so much older. I hung out in that position for a little while and was able to examine the cord and feel it pulsing. I remember being surprised at how clear the tub water was.

The midwife cut the cord and I eventually asked to get out of the tub.  Your daddy held you for the first time and I was helped to the bed. I was so happy, but so exhausted; I just wanted to lay on the bed for a few minutes while everyone took turns meeting you. Eventually the placenta was expelled and my stomach was massaged, which was not pleasant!  Thanks to our patience in the tub, I escaped without even a scratch.  (Awesome!) They brought you back to me and I was able to try breastfeeding. You latched on the right side and nursed for about 20 minutes. 

I was cleaned up by the nurses and the midwife showed me my placenta. Then the three of us were left alone to spend some time together. After pains were horrible and I asked for ibuprofen. The cramps were so strong that I couldn't think straight enough to figure out your middle name! Daddy was pretty set on his choice, though, and I was happy, because I always knew your first name would be Steven.  

I tried to take a nap, but the room was way too hot and I couldn't relax, anyway, so I called you all back into the room. We had our vitals checked a few times,  weighed (6 lbs. 10 oz.) and measured (20.5 inches), and we were discharged at 10:00 am. I didn't feel like I'd just given birth. My back and hips were a bit sore, but that was it! 

I felt (and feel!) so lucky and so blessed to have had a perfect birth and a perfect son. I was scared to give birth again, but it was even better the second time around.  With your sister I felt pure ecstasy and relief.  With you, my son, I felt a confidence and a power in myself that I had never before felt.  You changed my life by showing me that I really do have the strength and love of a mother.  

The Culture of Childbirth

“There is a sacred power in the innately feminine capacity of giving birth. It is one of the elemental, continuing processes of nature that women have the chance to experience, and it is the one act of human creation that is not shared by men.” – Ina May Gaskin

I have been reading Ina May Gaskin’s newest book, Birth Matters. It is an empowering and insightful book, written by America’s most famous midwife. Though I am often struck by the chapters that discuss obstetric medicine that lacks any scientific backing or the fact that the USA is one of only four countries with an increasing maternal death rate, I realized today that there is another topic that stands out to me.

The culture surrounding childbirth in the USA is missing so much. Why is it that the only birth stories that we hear are horror stories? This person hemorrhaged, this person would have died, thank goodness this person was in the hospital. Why are those the stories that we share with one another? Where are the beautiful stories? Where is the encouragement?

Why don’t we, as women, rally around one another? Why don’t we lift each other up with optimism and shared experiences?

Why is a birth a terrible, frightening, dangerous experience? Why isn’t it wonderful, life-changing, transformative, and spiritual?

I didn’t realize how much this lack of support bothered me until today.

In my line of work, I have the opportunity to mingle with powerful business women, many of them important lobbyists. I was shocked to have an email exchange with one of these corporate women (whom I don’t know very well) that went a little something like this:

Enjoy. Seriously, children are the most awesome thing ever. I hope I’m not overstepping here, but let me also tell you that childbirth itself is one of the coolest experiences in life EVER.

As someone who is seeing a midwife, delivering at a birth center, and reading way too many birthing books… I really appreciate your comment about how cool childbirth is!! I know it will be difficult and I’m a little bit nervous, but I am honestly looking forward to it.

Extra happy to hear you’re using of a midwife at a birthing center. You go, girl. Women are so cool. Our bodies are amazing. With my first pregnancy, I was nervous and felt some trepidation. A very dear friend sat me down and told me this: “Change your attitude. Childbirth is the most awesome thing on Earth. You need to anticipate with delight this experience and you need to recognize and acknowledge how awesome it is while it’s happening. And you won’t believe how incredible the outcome is.” Best words of advice I’ve ever received. You and your baby can and will do it well, and you’ll love it.

...

Why haven’t I been hearing things like this throughout my whole pregnancy, or my whole life, for that matter? Has the childbirth experience been downgraded so much in our society that this “awesome experience” doesn’t exist anymore or is there some reason that women are reluctant to share?

Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones, but the email exchange brought tears to my eyes. I suddenly realized that it sucks to gather all of my support for one of the most important events in my life from books and my midwife. A woman, basically a stranger, shared a small piece of her empowerment with me and it means more than I can express.

I only wish that this type of sharing was more common in our society. I am probably the farthest thing from a feminist, but childbirth seriously makes me want to shout from the rooftops about how awesome women are and about how cool and capable our bodies are.

I need to push all of the horror stories out of my mind and remember things like this:

My mom’s friend on Facebook: Go all natural. I had one of each and preferred natural.

The old lady working the reception desk: You can do this. Your body was made to do this.

My mom (without much confidence, not realizing that she is a rockstar): I thought I was a huge wimp and that I was going to die if it lasted much longer. Then I realized that I was 9 cm!

And then I need to encourage other mothers-to-be. I need to be the change that I wish to see.

Disclaimer:  Though I am planning a natural birth, I don't want to knock anyone that has had different experiences or makes different choices.  The point is, we are all women and we should support one another.  Let's focus more on the good and less on the bad.

Comfort, Confidence, and Support

Today, the baby friend has reached 36 weeks, which means that we are officially in “the safe zone.” Now that we’ve made it this far, we can deliver at the birth center with our amazing doctor and midwife. Barring complications, this little one will come to earth in a place that we have grown to love and where we feel comfortable, with only those that we have chosen by our sides.

...

When I first became pregnant, I immediately visited the doctor that my family swears by. Let me be the first to say, he is a wonderfully intelligent man. Still, I wanted something more. I wanted a personal relationship with my health care provider and I wanted to know that they would be at my birth, no matter what.

In college, I took a course called, The Psychology of Sexuality. Well, it had absolutely nothing to do with psychology and everything to do with sexy time. Of all the classes throughout college, though, it surprises me to look back and realize that this class planted a seed in my mind, for this is the place that I learned about natural birth, birth centers, and midwives.

I began my search for a new health care provider by interviewing a home birth midwife. As great as she was, I realized that I wasn’t quite ready to birth at home. I needed a little more emotional security for my first birth experience.

This led me to Mary, who had just opened Blossom Birth Center alongside Nichelle Whitehead, an OB-GYN.

Stepping into the birth center felt so right. It was comfortable, clean, and peaceful. It was also a great reassurance to have a midwife and an OB in one place – the best of both worlds. As I have continued my appointments at the birth center, I have grown to love Mary and Nichelle so much. I love the things we have in common, the interest they take in my baby, my body, and my life, and their constant support.

I am so excited for this journey. It will be hard work and it will be painful, but each contraction will bring me closer to meeting my little girl or little boy. With my husband and mother by my side, watched over by caring and knowledgeable women, I have faith in the birth process.

...

Here are a million silent prayers that I will be strong and that my body will be capable of birthing naturally, like so many of the women before me.

Three Tomatoes and Hippie Stuff

I have reached a new milestone in this exciting life of mine: Midwife appointments every two weeks, instead of once a month!

Who would have thought that going to “the doctor” would be so much fun? After all, I am the freak that cries every time I get my blood drawn. (Seriously, I could probably break my leg without shedding a tear, but bust out a needle and I will turn into a 2 year old.)

Speaking of the wonder of midwifery, did you know that I DIDN’T cry at my last appointment when I had my blood drawn? If you were wondering about modern day miracles, there you have it. I’m pretty sure it was a fluke (I didn’t have time to build it up in my messed up mind), so I felt better about crossing it off my Bucket List, than I did about conquering a personal demon. (Not conquered.)

So, the appointment was fabulous and my little fetus friend is on schedule and perfect! They call baby “The Surprise” and it makes me feel all warm inside.

At the appointment, my midwife/OB-GYN, Nichelle, asked me if I wanted to have the Gestational Diabetes test. She didn’t command, she didn’t act like she knew everything, and she answered all of my questions about risks, symptoms, and consequences, so that I could decide. Holy informed consent! I have to admit, it was difficult to answer the question, as my two brain hemispheres were suddenly engaged in WWW III over this newfound responsibility (and freedom).

(Let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to have a doctor tell you exactly what to do about every little thing.)

We three tomatoes.  (From our garden)

On the way out, I asked Mary, my other midwife, if I could take a look inside the birth suite, as I hadn’t done so since February. As I walked into the suite, I was overcome with emotion.

This is the place where I will become a mother and where I will meet another soul. This is the place where our family will become three.

I try to remember that birth is hard and painful, but it isn’t something to be feared.  It will be the most amazing event in my life. I pray that I can be prepared, empowered, and confident in the perfect body that Heavenly Father gave to me.

(Thank you, Mom, for supporting me in all of my decisions.  That's what best friends are for.)