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or here it is if you don't want to follow the link:
I had a baby in a kiddie pool in my bedroom.
That's the short story of it.
Did it hurt a lot? *yes*
How long were you in labor? *long enough*
Did you tear? *not to any degree worth mentioning*
Were you ever worried? *no*
Would you do it again, at home? *YES*
Ask DH and he'll tell you that he loved our home birth because he got to participate. Hold me up when I started pushing, help me to the bathroom when I needed to pee, brush the hair out of my face, feed me sips of water, all the things a husband/father can do during labor to comfort their wife. I don't have a single memory from my labor when he was more then arms length away. (My perspective isn't great though because I've been told at one point he took a 3 hour nap...)He was my solid place, my sure footing, the person I know will always be there, and my other half. He danced/rocked/rolled/swayed through labor with me and for me, entering into my "women only" space with softness, respect, calm, and peace.
I have no memory of being alone or ignored during my labor. I felt doted on and cared for at every moment. Even though I know I was alone for awhile when labor-napping in my bed and, at some point, my attendants had to pee or eat or just step away. I felt loved.
Speaking of my attendants, I chose two women perfectly suited to tend to me. Miss Jess, my lovely, wonderful, kind, and patient midwife. Miss Kelli, my hilarious, supportive, loving accidental doula. They wiped my brow, rubbed my back, stopped rubbing when I hit them, held the vomit bowl, took a hit from the amniotic fluid, laughed at my comments about smoking the corpse of Jesus Christ and the "tub-idural", "ohhhhh"ed with my "ohhhhh"s and "ahhhhh"ed with my "ahhhh"s, helped me keep things low and deep, centered me, caught me when I would come down from my labor high, protected my soft tissues and my heart, rode through the journey with me- never once making it "about" anything- just riding, never telling me "no" or "don't" or "not that way", always saying "yes" "like this" and "what do you need", and trusting me, trusting my body, my baby, my ability to be a birth warrior. Every time I said "I can't" all I heard echoed back from my tenders was "You can" and "You are".
This is supposed to be a birth story. The gory details. Facts.
I think I'll get around to writing all that down at some point. I think the only facts that truly matter to me are these:
On Tuesday, June 28th, 2011 at 4:19pm, with the help and support of my husband, midwife, and doula, after 17-ish hours of labor, I gave birth naturally, in water, in my own home, to a healthy 8 pound 21.25 inch little girl we've named Evangeline Marguerite. Our family is now complete.
**WARNING** If you don't wanna see a naked laboring chubby girl: don't scroll down!!!
Last edited by beckiethedoula; July 28th, 2011 at 04:56 PM.