By the way, my birth plan was to have a home birth. We didn't tell anybody because I feel like there's some kind of stigma or stereo type that goes with it that doesn't really fit me. I don't think I'm too much of a hippie or radical in any way and Austin was semi embarrassed to talk about it to other people so we just didn't. He gets big brownie points for hopping on board with the idea because he was definitely not interested at first. He finally agreed to having the baby at a birth center and we left it at that until a week before he was born. I said to him, "We have to decide right now where we're having the baby." and Austin said, "Um we already did." So I gave him my best puppy dog eyes and he didn't say yes but he didn't say no, so I ordered our birth kit and texted my midwife that we decided just to have the baby at home. "But you're absolutely not having him in the bathtub" he said.
My awesome mother-in-law Cindy agreed to fly down as soon as she could to take over babysitting me so Austin didn't have to miss anymore work. And we wanted her to be here when I went in to labor because we don't really know anybody here in Texas yet and thought it would be easier to have her here to take care of the kids rather than suckering someone from our new ward into helping us out. (Although I'm sure we could have, our ward if full of sweet, awesome people) She got here on Friday. We took her to the State Fair on Saturday and I walked and walked and walked until I thought I needed a wheelchair to get me back to the car. I was so sore after that! BUT it worked. I had my **TMI** bloody show on Sunday and started having some mild cramping that evening. It never got very bad but it did have a pattern so I was timing them and got anxious enough that I didn't sleep a wink that night. With both of my other labors I had timeable contractions for an entire night that would stop the next morning then resume in the evening and end in a baby the following morning. So I expected the same and sent Austin to work on Monday morning because I was sure my contractions would stop when the sun came up. They didn't but they got further apart and were still nothing to write home about. Austin forgot his laptop at home however, and can't really work without it and for some reason he was more confidant in my contractions than I was and decided he would just come back home and take the day off.
I sent a text to my midwife just to update her and let her know that maybe a baby would show up in the next couple of days. She was asking what all was going on and I really didn't want to alarm her or make her think I was in labor so I told her not much was happening, nothing was changing blah blah blah. Then she sent me a message back and said she was going to cancel her afternoon appointments and come over. I panicked because I really didn't want her to come all that way for no reason. I was so embarrassed and told her not to come because I wasn't even close to having a baby. But she didn't listen and came anyway. It was about 1:30 pm when she got here and she looked at me and said, "You don't look like your in labor." Yeah, I know! She asked if she could check me anyway since she was there and I said yes. And you know what, I was dilated to an 8. An 8! I didn't believe it and she didn't either. She called her assistant and told her to head over. We got everything set up in my bedroom upstairs and the kids were watching a movie with Grandma. I felt kind of awkward like I should have something to entertain people while we wait for the baby. My contractions were still not getting any closer together and weren't all that strong. I would feel one coming on and would just lean on a wall or on Austin and drum my fingers or tap my toes until it was over and that was all it took to get through them. When they weren't intensifying my midwife asked if I wanted her to break my water and I told her to check me again and see if anything was happening and then we'd decide. But when she got in there she accidentally popped it because it was just about ready to go anyway. That was fun. I had so much fluid in there! I saw my stomach shrink significantly, it was kind of cool! Contractions finally got real and I was trying all these funny sounds or breathing tricks that I read on the internet but, naturally, it was all a little painful.
Since my water had broke I was laboring in the bathroom to keep from leaking on the carpet. I found the most relief on my hands and knees and since I was being conscious of the mess I was making, I just kneeled in the empty tub. The midwives heard me making more and more noise and came to check on me. They said, "You can just get in the bath if you think it will help with the pain."And I had pretty much lived in the tub to help with the pain from my kidney infection so I was happy they said I could do that because I knew the warm water would feel great. But once I got it...dun dun dun. I was totally stuck there. My contractions came fast and furious and even though I tried in between to get out of the bath (remember, because Austin said no water birth allowed) I didn't have time before I was crippled by another contraction. So I gave up trying to get out and that's when things got loud. I was letting out the most guttural screams. Like, I sounded like I was being eaten by a pack of lions. I mostly didn't care and truly couldn't help it but I was still kind of embarrassed and thought to myself, "I really hope Cindy and the kids can't hear me." I was biting Austin's fingers and that actually really helped but he figured, we'd made it this far without transferring to a hospital, we're sure not going because he lost his fingers to his maniac wife and he wriggled free. I finally glanced up with pleading eyes at the midwives wondering how the hell do I get out of this now? They understood. They told me all my power was lost when I screamed and to hold my breath and use that energy to push the baby out. So I did. And it worked. I took a deep breath, held it, and pushed as hard as I could. About 3 pushes later out came the biggest head ever (maybe not EVER but...) 16 cm. Ouch. And his chest was just as big. So I rested for a minute then gave another big push and out came the most perfect baby. It was 5:34 pm. They handed him up to me and wrapped him in a towel. In a very shaky voice I said something like, "This huge thing just came out of my body!" Then I cried.
I don't think anybody could understand what I was saying. The midwives looked at each other and started making guesses at his weight. I apologized for all the noise and they said with a baby that big, they would expect nothing less. He was a pretty blue color and looked like he had been fathered by a smurf. So we wiggled his toes and tickled his back until he started to cry and turn pink again. His head was perfectly round. No coney-ness about it. He was not squished down there for very long. I was really nervous that Austin would be mad at me for having him in the tub. It was one of the first things I asked and he just looked at me like I was an idiot and said he wasn't mad. He was happy and smiling and in total awe of little Harvey. (I think he was a little suspicious about the possibility of a Smurf dad, too) I laid in that tub of baby soup with the baby on my chest until his cord stopped pulsing and I delivered the placenta. Austin cut the cord and I asked them to take the baby because I wanted out of the water. I was becoming increasingly aware of the bodily fluids I was sitting in and just wanted to rinse off and lay down.
The baby was a record breaker. The largest babies delivered by the two midwives thus far had been 11 lbs 6 oz and 10 lbs 6 oz. Harvey weighed 11 lbs 8 oz. Holy moly. I felt like super woman. Also, like I had been hit but a truck, but mostly like super woman. He was so heavy and warm and snuggly and perfect! We laid down in my bed and one of the midwives did the newborn exam while the other examined the crime scene which was my undercarriage. I laid down and talked to my mom on speaker phone while I got a couple of stitches. All right there in my bed! It was awesome. No dirty hospital. No ugly gown. No IV's and bags of fluid to make me puff up like a blow fish. I just showered off, slapped on a diaper and climbed into my own bed with my own pillows. It was perfect. I told Austin to get the other kids to come meet the baby and when he went downstairs, they hadn't even noticed I was missing. They came in and Oliver immediately says, "Mom he's so cute!" And they proceeded to smother him in kisses. He didn't mind at all. I kicked them back out because they were too hyper and excited and I was sleepy.
You can imagine a baby of this stature knows what he's doing when it comes to eating. It was as if he had a boob with him the entire time in the womb. He had no question about the equipment and he took to eating like he was paid to do it. He slept really well too, but for some reason I was wide awake. It sucked. I knew I was exhausted but I just couldn't close my eyes!
The experience was amazing and I have no regrets. I'm so happy it turned out like it did. I wouldn't change a thing.
We didn't get very many pictures, which is probably okay, but I'll throw in what I've got!
This was a picture we took for my mom to show her I was doing okay. I think she was worrying about me and I know she wishes she could have been there with me. I wish she was too.
Sitting backwards on the toilet after my water broke trying to use my magic brain power to bring on contractions.
Grandma and the kids watched movies and played games and made me yummy food.
Needed a final belly shot. His size explains why I looked like a mammoth toward the end (okay for most) of my pregnancy.
Here is Austin painting my toe nails. I was about 9 cm dilated and we were kind of bored.
Okay I hope this one doesn't make you feel too squirmy and uncomfortable. It's the most offensive of the bunch so don't worry about scrolling through the rest. I haven't zoomed in but I don't think you can see any of my parts.
Talking to my mom while getting a few stitches. It was kind of comical to be chatting away on the phone with a lady sitting cross legged on my bed fixing up my bits.
Vivian spends most her baby time trying to french him and Oliver bosses me around telling me to feed him, be quiet, turn the lights off...and the list goes on.
A funny story about the umbilical cord stump--I explained to Oliver what it was and told him that was where he got his food when he was in my tummy. So this morning Oliver comes in to check on us (he's very attentive) and asks me, "How's his food weenie doin?" It was hilarious.
Deciding on nicknames for the dude. So far we've got Bulldog, Moose, Beef cake and Buddha. Maybe Tank? Maybe stop picking on him for being a fatty so he doesn't have body image issues ;) I mean he's just big boned, right?
