Ask A Nurse
Pregnancy Photos
Pregnancy Calendar
Birth Plans
Birth Stories
Bookstore
Boy or Girl
Cesareans
Chat Room
Complications
Doulas
Educators
Episiotomy
FAQs
Feeding Baby
Fertility
Finding a Class
Health
Interactive
Labor
Message Board
Monitoring
Newborns
Postcards
Postpartum
Pregnancy
Reviews/Awards
Search
VBAC
Week by Week

A. Paul

My husband is in the Marine Corps. This means that I had very few options where I could deliver my children. My first son, John, was born in North Carolina. I was determined that I would be attended to by a midwife. I was only permitted to receive care outside of the military hospital if they were too busy otherwise my insurance would not cover my care. Unfortunately, the hospital had room for me. I put up a fight and I suppose they were so tired of hearing my voice, they released me with the proper forms and I located a wonderful CNM who took my insurance. All in all, Johns birth was a beautiful learning experience. But, the birth of my second son, Paul was everything a birth should be.

By the time I was pregnant with Paul the Marine Corps moved us from North Carolina. I was faced with a military hospital that refused to release me. My options were quite simple, deliver at the military hospital (horrible!!!!!), pay for a midwife out of pocket (not affordable), or have my sister, a lay midwife fly out to CA and deliver my child at home. (I did not have my sister deliver my first son because I was too nervous to deliver at home...silly me!) The choice was clear. I would use the military facility for all my prenatal care and then my sister would come to CA for two weeks surrounding the due date.

It was a very exciting time when my sister arrived. I had been having contractions the whole week before she came. She was convinced she would have to deliver the baby as soon as she arrived. Not only was my sister at my home, but she brought her 3 year old granddaughter. And, my parents live with me. We had a house full of family. To me this was ecstasy. This is what a birth should be! It was a celebration of life for two weeks we ate whatever we wanted (small portions of coarse!), we played games, took walks and just plain visited with each other.

As my due date came and went we all became a little anxious. I would come out of my room in the morning and everyone would look at me and say in unison, "How do you feel?" I quickly tired of this question. I felt like I wanted to have a baby. I ached throughout my back. I had a lot of contractions. I was tired of being a huge human being. I wanted to see my baby.

I was 7 days past my due date, 4 days before my sister would leave, when she became very moody. I could understand why. She kiddingly insisted that I jump on a trampoline. And, she made sure to ask every morning if I had sex the night before. Of coarse, my husband loved the fact that having sex could help put me in labor. I can't say that I was ever worried. I knew I would have this baby before she left.

During my sister's stay she stuck by my side like glue. And, of coarse, I went into labor on the day she decided to go out for a while. Fortunately she did not go far. I went into labor on Oct. 19,1996, 9 days after my due date. I cleaned my house most of the morning. Then, when my son took his afternoon nap I also napped. After I woke up my husband, my son and I went to the store. I realized then that I was truly in labor. We planned on taking my son to the park. My husband asked if I still wanted to go. I said yes, there was no rush.

As I sat on the park bench and watch my 23 month old boy I began to cry. I was flooded with emotions. I felt like I was loosing my baby and he was now a little boy. I wasn't ready to look at him in that way. It was very difficult for me to work through those feelings. But, I did because I wanted this birth to be as positive as possible.

When I got home I announced to everyone that I was in labor. The cheering could be heard for miles. I ate dinner, helped bathe my son and put him to bed. Then, I decided that a bath would be nice (my water still did not break). I sat in the bathtub for a few hours, eating, talking, playing gameboy and sleeping. My family was convinced I would not emerge from the tub. But, eventually I left the bathroom and went to my bed.

My sister set up all her equipment for I was now in transition. She massaged vagina with olive oil. It was a wonderful, loosening up feeling. My husband sat on the bed next to me. The house was quiet. The kids and grandparents were in bed. I listened to the nightsounds of the Mohave High Desert. And, then I heard my sister say, "You can push anytime you want." So, I began to push.

My husband was the best coach in the world. He held my hand and kissed me. He looked at me with such intensity that his stare would carry me through my contractions and pushes. Then he said, "Look at all that hair!" That was it. The head was there! I felt like I was one with the contractions and I pushed as much as my body would allow. Finally, the head came out. I thought that the next push would be easier, like it was with my first son. But, my sister told me to push hard again. The baby was trying to get his thumb in his mouth and his shoulder was caught. So, I gave one more good, long, hard push and then I heard him.

He was layed upon my belly. The laughter, the tears and the shouts of joy, "It's a boy!!!" filled the room. Call everyone. A. Paul was born on October 20, 1996 at 12:01 AM. He weighed 9lbs 3 ounces and was 22 inches long. He started nursing the 10 minutes after he was born. He is beautiful and healthy.

I did not tear and felt remarkably well the next day. Two days later we went to the military hospital for postpartum and pediatric care. They were taken aback when they realized we circumvented their system. And, they were amazed at how fast I healed and how healthy the baby was. I give the credit to good prenatal care and a good old fashioned home birth!