Anyone who has had to listen to my birth stories knows, I have ugly labors. I know labor isn’t glamorous, yet there are those fortunate bitches out there that just sort of quietly announce “I think it is time,” then apply a light pink lip stain and offer a polite sweet grunt and out slides their beautiful bundle of joy.
My first was 24 hours of grueling labor, hard labor in every imaginable and unimaginable position to get things moving. I did not want pain meds or a cesarean. Cesarean section won out. I felt defeated. I know, I should be happy with my beautiful healthy result. I wasn’t. I felt I missed something; less than complete without this experience. I was sure I started motherhood off on the wrong foot. So I drove head on into being the best damn breastfeeder on Earth with a determined plan to conquer the birthing process next time.
Labor two was much shorter. A mere 9 hours. Not much prettier. Yet I did it. I birthed my own baby. I was able to pull her out like Kourtney Kardashian. I was on my way to my future FEMPIRE of 4 birds of Paradis. I had this. Check. Check. and CHECK.
So, everyone knows by now, that THIS pregnancy was rocked by the revelation of “It’s a boy”. I won’t go into all of that emotion, see the earlier post, but yes, I wanted a girl. It was all I knew. And I had a plan.
By the time labor was upon me, I was fully on board with my son. No name. Or rather, many names, Thayer Crane, Hugo Finch, Hutton Crane, August Wren, Truman Crane. Prudence was always Prudence. We had some fleeting doubts with Odette, we toyed with Isla for a few weeks or two mid-pregnancy. But we always came back to Odette Starling.
So having no real name contender for our 3rd child, although the girls had come to to know him as Truman Dinosaur Kittycat, was a weird unsettled feeling. We hoped it would come to us once we met him. If the name was the only hang up with this pregnancy we were good with that.
Yes, we were secretly hoping 3rd times the charm, yet we were gearing up for the ugly. Just how ugly? We had no idea.
Right off the bat, we had a physician that we never met. Not totally horrible, but we all got off on the wrong foot. She was obviously not a huge fan of VBAC ( vaginal delivery after cesarean). All she focused on was what could go wrong and that was in the first hour. Nothing was really happening, my water just broke. I was fine and baby was fine.
Why was she making me feel panicked like I would need to fight her every step to have this “naturally?” I wished I stayed at home to labor in the comfort of my own surroundings.
We called in reinforcements. I had considered a doula or labor coach with this pregnancy but never confirmed it. In the end I wrestled with sharing myself, so vulnerable outside of my usual comfort zone which only consists of my mother, my sister, and my husband. I know my mother-in-law has always felt left out on the birth of her grandchildren, but I am just not wired to be open with my emotional side.
However hard it was to reach out, we called a doula. AND…We all felt so much better after just making this declaration. I would highly recommend getting a doula. Except don’t wait until the last minute like me. To be truly effective you need to begin working with your doula and your birth plan well before labor begins. She had her work out for her to instantly ready for this birth, yet I couldn’t imagine how it would have been without her. Many thanks to her for coming to our last minute call.
I wish that was all: Just poor physician client communication and a last minute doula need.
After we welcomed baby August Wren, Oh yes, we did have that magical this is his name moment just as he was handed to me. I looked at him, my husband, mom and said, I just love the name August. “So August it is”.
My husband through tears, he is the crier in the family, said, “that was secretly always my favorite but I didn’t want to say anything!!” August Wren had arrived. A little purple from a difficult canal position and a little cord pressure (around his neck). But he was here and all was good.
I don’t have complete recall except I all of a sudden wasn’t feeling well. I was dizzy.
My mother looked concerned. And there was a lot of attention and people around me. I was losing lots of blood. My uterus was not “bogging” and bleeding. I was white as a sheet and becoming unresponsive. As I write this, I am on my way home with my son and everything turned out fine. I received great emergency care and a couple of units of blood. I will no doubt feel many more emotions about this birth experience over the next few months, possibly years. For now, I am ready to get home to be with my sweet new family and start the pure joy of living today.
Thank for you all for your prayers and positive thoughts. I did get to pull him out again, Kardashian style.
I know we all have our stories. So thank you for letting me share mine.
Welcome to the world August Wren Paradis.
Your sisters are so happy to meet you.
Your mother is so very happy to be home with all of you.