Happy Birthday, Chase!

For Ryan's second birthday, I gave him a brother (and a Bob the Builder tool set).

It was completely unintentional - the brother, that is - another case of "It's probably safe...", and, when I began to suspect I was pregnant for the fourth time, I was almost appalled to realize that the dates were going to be exactly the same as my previous pregnancy. (It turned out I was just one day off, with my baby due on Ryan's second birthday.) But we were in a much better place than two years before, and once I recovered from the shock, I found I was actually thrilled, although I still had Dave deliver the news to our families! I already knew what kind of birth I wanted, and I had already discovered Carolina Waterbirth, the nearby birth center. I immediately called Sandy, the midwife there, and arranged a tour of the birth center, and we were instantly sold after meeting her.

I had terrible morning sickness, and often Dave would come home needing to plow a path through the mess in the house just to get in the door. Those were certainly some chaotic weeks, but on the whole it was a happy pregnancy, and I loved going to appointments at the birth center. We all loved Sandy, and when we spent an hour there, it was all with her - even the kids were allowed to be involved. The bittersweet note for me was the feeling that I was cheating Ryan out of some of his babyhood, a feeling that sometimes creeps up on me even now. Nursing him during pregnancy was not easy for me, for one thing, and I had to reduce our nursing sessions in both duration and frequency. Ryan wasn't happy at all about this development, and it was a struggle for us. But I promised him, even though I knew he couldn't undestand the concept of time, that he could have as much as he wanted again when the baby came, and I had visions of an idyllic tandem nursing experience.

Another glitch was that I had some unexplained bleeding from my defective right ureter all throughout the second half of my pregnancy. I had had severe pain and other complications from my kidney on this side in my previous pregnancies, but never any bleeding - and this was a very significant amount. My midwife had never seen anything like it, and the OB I saw had only vague theories, so it was a concern. In fact, it's still unresolved, which is rather troublesome. But other than that, I had a healthy - and predictable - pregnancy. I informed Dave and our family members that I was very likely going to deliver right around my due date, and that it was going to be a good long labor, so I didn't want anyone to hound me with questions or speculations about the timing. Sure enough, I made it all the way to the middle of February. The week before the magic day, I had sporadic contractions, some enough to make me wonder, but it wasn't until the morning of Valentine's Day that I was awakened at about 4:30 am by some particularly strong and regular ones. They seemed intense enough to indicate the "real thing", and after making breakfast a few hours later, I called Sandy to tell her what was going on. I was determined to labor as long as I could at the house, and of course, she agreed it was a good idea. Around mid-morning, however, my contractions petered away to almost nothing, and by noon I was crying in frustration in the shower. Sandy called around then and suggested I go for a walk, so Dave and I left the kids with my mom, who had come up the day before, and we walked together for an hour, which did in fact stimulate regular contractions again. After that, I was afraid to sit down again, so I paced the backyard furiously until about 3, when I decided to call Sandy again to ask if we could go to the birth center and just have her check things out. She agreed, and when we arrived, she found I was at 6cm and definitely in active labor. She thought if my contractions grew any stronger, I would very soon be in transition (only she had never seen any of my labors!), so we thought it would be good to stay. I worked on the squatting bar and walked...and walked, and walked and walked...and got some good contractions going, but after a couple of hours, they still weren't strong enough. Sandy gave me an herbal tincture that worked better than any dose of Pitocin I had ever had, and by around 10 that evening, I was in such a good pattern that she thought it was safe for me get in the huge clawfoot tub I had been waiting for my entire pregnancy. I labored there for a couple of hours, thinking the whole time I was making great progress. My sister brought Aimee and Drew over, because we thought it had to be soon, and I have a great picture (curses on that scanner again!) of Drew holding my hand while I was in the tub. But Sandy didn't tell me, mercifully, that I wasn't really making much progress at all. She told my mom that I was simply going in and out of transition, and when she checked me, she found that the baby, who was posterior (again - the other boys were, too), was still very high. She thought my semi-upright position was hindering his downward progress, so she had me slide down as far as I could in the water, but after we tried it for a few minutes, she said that while it was helping him to move down temporarily, he was going right back up in between contractions. On top of being tired and discouraged, I was devastated when Sandy told me that I had to get out of the water. I had so hoped to experience a waterbirth, and that was going to be impossible. A more immediate concern was that the water had muted the contractions, as it were, and as I soon as I stepped out of it, I felt the difference. Exhausted, I wandered over to the bed and labored there for awhile, but soon Sandy told me I needed to walk to try to work the baby down. I had my first pang of real fear, wondering what would happen if I couldn't make any more progress. I wondered I would be able to stand an ambulance transfer. Reluctantly I rolled over from the curled up position on my side and inched out of bed. Each contraction sent me to the floor on my hands and knees, but I did feel some downward movement. But I was tired - oh, so tired, and I felt like I had been in the "I can't stand it anymore" mode for a very long time. At some point I made it back to the bed, and I heard Sandy say quietly to someone that we still had a ways to go. Each contraction was a higher, more powerful wave, and I felt more in danger of losing it with each one. When, at last Sandy I could try pushing, the relief I felt was the greatest feeling in the whole world, and I can't describe how wonderful pushing actually felt. Actually, I could, but it might be indecent - my mom and sisters were snickering at me, I discovered later. The relief didn't last, however, because rather than the almost immediate progress I had felt with all three of my previous deliveries, pushing out a baby with my efforts felt as likely as pushing out a watermelon, which prompted my second pang of fear. The only thing that saved me was the fact that there actually WERE breaks (what a difference between the real thing and the continuous crushing wave of Pitocin-induced contractions!), and I had a few seconds of rest in between each contraction and push. I pushed for a long time (probably only about an hour, but it seemed like forever!) until finally, I felt the head (a very big head!) emerge. He made a noise, which made me think he was all the way out, but a few more pushes were required - and at last, at about 2:15 am, an 8lb. 6oz. Jeffrey Chase came into world and was placed immediately on my chest. He went straight to my breast and nursed for no less than an hour and a half, burping contentedly in conclusion. Sandy examined him while he was in my arms, and waited to cut the cord until after it stopped pulsing. It was all so gentle and natural. The kids came in at some point - they had been sleeping on the couches in the lobby since I had been in the water - and were mildly interested. (Drew was more excited about getting to see the placenta than the baby!) They were very tired, though, so Dave took them back to the house, and after the baby and I were examined and everything was cleaned up, my mom curled up in the bed with me and Chase and we all slept for a few hours. The next morning, Dave brought Aimee and Drew to come get us, and by lunchtime, we were home, where I gave Ryan his first birthday present of the day. He was happy, but the tool set later was even a little more exciting!