It's the evening of January the nineteenth. For months I've been asking my Little L to come January 20th. I want to meet my baby so much! We'll be full term then, but it'll cut a week and a half off the pregnancy and Loren and I can meet this tiny person we've been so excited about for so long.
I feel kind of sad, because I haven't felt any signs of labor, and I'm pretty sure I've got ages to go yet, and I'm tired of asking Loren to put my shoes on my feet for me. I'm also tired of the fact that I can't kneel down to say my prayers. This fact is especially apparent to me at the moment since I'm in the middle of them.
"Father in Heaven, I am so incredibly excited and scared for this. I want to meet my baby right now! I ask that he or she may come soon, that I may see my Little L's face, and let Loren share more fully this experience. This beloved son or daughter of Thine that Thou art giving us is such a precious gift. I am so thankful for this amazing opportunity to learn how to be more like Thee. But I'm not sure I'm ready for this. Please Father, I need Thee to be with me when the time comes. I need to have Thee here giving me strength and wisdom. I don't know what giving birth will be like, I've never done this before. I've watched my mother, and she was so strong and peaceful, and I look back at that and I know I can do this. Then I hear other women's stories and I get so scared. I just don't know what's going to happen, and I know I can't control things, and I don't like that. I don't like not knowing. Father, I ask Thee that this birth may be safe, and happy. I pray that my little one may come at a good time, in a good way. I pray that we both may be strong and healthy. I desire so much to be a good mother to this child. Father, I need Thee so much. Please help me to be a good example, to build a home full of Thy spirit, to be wise and kind, to give my Little L the guidance he or she needs. Thou understandest more than I do. I cannot see everthing Thou canst. I am willing to do all that Thou asketh of me, even though it might not be what I think I want or need. I know that Thou wilt provide a way for me. In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen"
I flip my scriptures open to a random place, and my finger lands on the words, "Behold, I come quickly."
During the night I begin to feel a little crampy, and by the morning I'm sure I'm having contractions of some sort, especially since there's some bloody show. They're kinda short and far apart and not very regular though. So I call one of the midwives to give them a heads up that SOMEthing's happening, and find out which midwife is on call so that if things pick up I know who to bug.
Until the contractions start getting closer together, I have some errands to run. It occurs to me that I forgot to get an old sheet at the DI to put on the bed, and that I never arranged to pick up the extension cord I'm borrowing for the birth. Oh, and I need bleach. Somewhere in the papers the midwives gave us it says something about bleach, but I never have it because I hate it.
After the errands, we decide that the house needs to be cleaned. Or more precisely I decide the house needs to be cleaned and Loren being the amazing man he is helps me out.
For dinner we eat roast chicken with potatoes and carrots that I had in the crockpot all day. I put it in there in the morning, because I didn't want to finish up having a baby and then wonder what dinner was going to be.
Then we decide to go for a walk, that's supposed to be good. It's a very short walk, since it's cold and dark and rainy. When we get home we drink hot cocoa and watch Remington Steele on Hulu.
As we go to bed I feel kinda sad that the 20th is ending and no baby. But I'm happy things are happening. I'm not sure what to expect, but I know most first time Mom's have long labors, so I'm pretty sure I have several days to go.
During the night the contractions get a little stronger, and closer together, so in the morning I call Michelle, the midwife on call, and let her know. They're getting a little intense, and they're not easy to ignore like the earlier ones. Michelle tells me I need to just go ahead and ignore them though. So I decide to get busy. I make bread, pick over the roast from last night and get some chicken soup going, and take a shower. It's kind of like playing don't think of the pink elephants though. I KNOW they're there.
I decide a nap is a good idea. I ask Loren to come lie down with me. I know he won't take a nap, but I want him there because I know it will help me fall asleep in spite of the contractions. They're not necessarily painful, per se, but they are getting pretty intense.
I wake up at three thirtyish and they're now quite intense. We time them for a while and they're about two minutes apart and minute long, but still pretty irregular. During the really intense ones I lean back against Loren and hang in his arms. It helps a lot. Loren calls Michelle for me, because I am pacing around, stomping my feet and hitting furniture because it's intense and I need to move. Michelle asks to speak to me. I kneel in the child's pose so I can talk easily. She asks me if the contractions are painful all over. I think about it for a second. "That's an interesting question. They're only kinda painful low down, but my uterus is hard all over, I can feel that." She says she's in Idaho Falls, but she's coming now.
I tell Loren I'm going to feel really silly if she comes and I'm not in labor. I know that first time Mom's have long labors, and that they tend to over-react and think they're further along than they are. I'm pretty sure I'm only just getting started on this journey.
A member of the bishopric stops by the house to let us know we're being released from our calling. Loren answers the door, I feel a contraction coming on and go into the bedroom to lean on the dresser. I work very hard to be quiet so that Loren doesn't have to explain that no, I'm not dying.....
When he leaves, I come out into the living room. Loren goes to do something on his computer. "Please don't get on your computer! I NEED you!" I whine. (yes whine). "Oh Aiden! I wasn't going to stay on! I was just going to get the 'Aiden' playlist I put together when we were dating going. Would you like me to do that?" Loren tells me, putting his arms around me. "NO. I need YOU." I tell him. He closes his laptop.
The contractions start getting REALLY intense. I'm sitting on the hall floor with Loren, crying because it feels so intense already, not so that I can't handle it, but I just KNOW I have days more to go, and I don't know if I can DO that. I start to panic and I'm pretty much crawling all over him trying to escape the contractions and telling him, "I just CAN'T DO DAYS OF THIS!!!!!" and he's telling me "Yes you can! I know you can do this!"
All of a sudden, I have this overwhelming, WONDERFUL feeling. "Loren! I want to PUSH! CALL THE MIDWIFE!" Now I know that the worst part is over and I can TOTALLY do this. Tears are gone, panic's gone, the end is in sight and I am focused. On not pushing until the midwife gets here.
I stand up in the hall and put my back against the wall. I put my hands and feet against the linen cupboard, and I tell myself, you can push all you want, on the cupboard. You aren't allowed to push the baby out until Michelle gets here. Until she gets here, you push on the cupboard. I start a little chant, "Don't push! Don't push! DON'T push! Don't PUSH!" In the back of my head I'm feeling amused and sorry for Loren as he's making up the bed with a shower curtain and talking to the midwife, because I know the only thing he's been worried about this whole pregnancy is that the midwife won't make it in time and he'll have to deliver the baby.
Loren has the phone on speaker as usual, so I hear Michelle talking to him. I hear, "Tell her to breathe!" I shout, "I'm BREATHING!!" I hear, "Tell her to lie down on her side." I shout, "If I MOVE, I'm PUSHING. OkAY??" Loren relays the message about pushing, but he must not have heard my breathing comment because he comes in to tell me to breathe. "I'M BREATHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I yell at him. I feel kinda sorry a couple seconds later, but I'm too busy not pushing to apologize.
Michelle arrives. I go into the bedroom and lay down. "If there's anything you want me to do, tell me now or it's not happening." I tell her. "Well, you might want to take off your pants. I'm pretty sure the baby doesn't want to be born in there." I think that's pretty funny, but I'm too focused to laugh. We get my pants off. "I can push now, right?" I ask. "I'm pretty sure you can." Michelle says. "I'm just checking, I know sometimes you can feel the urge to push when you're not fully dilated." "Aiden, I can see the baby's HEAD. You can push." I can finally PUSH! It's intense, but honestly it's not as intense as the contractions. I'm not really doing it. I'm not making myself push, it just happens. It feels so natural. It feels natural to have my hands on my knees, opeing myself up, pushing this baby out. I can feel the head start to come, and I can feel stretching happening, but it's nowhere near the "ring of fire" I've heard described. Not comfortable, sure, but not bad. I make myself ease back a bit so that I can have a little time to stretch instead of tearing. Michelle asks Loren if the bathroom is nearby. Typically she would have hot ginger tea compresses on my perineum, helping it stretch, but today she's just going to have to settle for hot tap water. Loren's right there helping her, since her assistant hasn't made it yet, and I'm listening to what's going on as I push. I don't want to push as hard and fast as my body wants to, so I'm sending some of the extra energy into deep gutteral groans. I'm pretty sure I sound just as melodramatic as those television births I'm always making fun of.
I hear Michelle ask Loren if he wants to catch. He sounds a little uncertain, until she explains that they'll do it together, and then he's pretty gung ho. I hear her talking him through it, and in just a couple pushes he's putting our baby on my belly. "I love you!" I gasp. I say it over and over again. "I love you! I love you! I love you!" I'm mostly saying it to the precious pink baby making tiny, half-hearted cries on my belly, but I'm also saying it to Loren. I'm surprised at how pink the skin is, I've seen babies be born, and usually at least their hands and feet are blueish. Michelle puts a warm towel over my Little L and tells me the cord is long enough I can pull the baby up closer, and I bring my beautiful, beautiful baby up so I can kiss the little head. Michelle asks if it's a boy or a girl, I don't know. I'm too busy loving my Baby. Loren's sitting up next to my head and looking down at the baby now. Both of us are wondering if we have a boy or a girl, and finally I try to look, but it's a funny angle. Michelle looks and tells us we have a boy. "Levi!" I say. "Oh Levi! I love you so much! Loren! Little L is a Levi!"
We get Levi latched on and he's nursing right away. I'm so proud of him! And Loren's right there with me. I am so thankful for this wonderful man who was so calm and sure and steady through this. I'm so in love with him, with our baby, with everything!
Levi was born at 4:55, sixteen minutes after Michelle arrived. I am so glad we decided to have a home birth. I'm glad I was able to labor in my own home, with just my beloved Sweetheart with me. It was nice to only have him there watching me freak out, and helping me stay calmish. I'm glad we didn't have to drive anywhere, because I would have waited so long, and the birth was so fast, Levi would have been born roadside. And it's cold here in January. I'm glad I had such amazing midwives, who were so wonderful and helped me prepare so well for this birth. They were so knowledgable and helped me make informed decisions. I'm glad I was able to eat my favorite almond cookies while Levi was nursing for the first time. I'm glad I got to hold him and nurse him for over an hour before they weighed him and measured him. I'm glad we got to skype our parents while the midwives were finishing doing their thing, and let them see their new grandson. I'm glad Loren and I spent our first night with our baby alone, even if I was paranoid about Levi getting cold and spent the whole night checking his temperature every half hour and changing the thermostat all over the place. I'm glad I had a heart-shaped placenta. It was very fitting that a baby made of love, loved from the moment his existence was known, born into a home full of love, should have been nourished by the symbol of love.
