My due date was August 26th, but after my last three babies were 10 days overdue, August 26th meant nothing more than signifying that I had a week and a half left in my pregnancy. My mom was so confident in my inability to have a baby "on time" that she scheduled to fly here the 27th of August. I had even sent the younger two boys, William and Grant, to Utah to spend a week with my mom, only to have them return, with my mom, on the 27th.
My entire pregnancy I was planning on having this baby in September. The last three weeks had been miserably uncomfortable, especially with Evelyn and Iralee bouncing on my belly whenever I held them, and the strain of carrying Evelyn everywhere. I had lots of Braxton-Hicks contractions as well, but I just accepted the reality that this pregnancy was going to last for awhile.
Tuesday morning, August 25th, Mikey came into my room saying that Roger thought my water will break that day. I started questioning just how smart it was for me to write down the baby's due date on the family calendar seeing that I would have to endure the boys questioning if every day was going to be the day the baby would be born.
Throughout the day I did feel a little different at times, but just excused it off as Braxton-Hicks contractions. I had been having those for the last four weeks, just as I had my previous pregnancies, and saw no need to think I would have this baby any earlier than usual.
Around 4 that afternoon, while desperately trying to get some much-needed rest by lying with the girls on the trampoline (ya, it didn't work), I realized that the contractions were a little different than what I had been experiencing the last few weeks. Even though I wasn't timing them, they seemed to be evenly spaced. Also, rather than a long, dull, crampy feeling, the uncomfortability and pain seemed to be coming in waves, having a bit of a climax in the middle.
BUT
I wasn't ready to have the baby. I was just reaching my due date. I hadn't gotten any of the baby items out of storage. I wanted William and Grant to be at the birth. My mom was coming into town to help me on Thursday. To add to all of that, Todd was scheduled to work Wednesday and Thursday, then had the following 4 days off. It was just not part of my plan to have the baby before Thursday. I refused to accept that it could happen before then.
The rest of the afternoon and evening, I went about doing more of the normal stuff I do each day, all while trying to ignore these contractions. They weren't terribly painful, I just didn't like how consistent they had been.
With all my other births, there had been times that I had questioned if I was in labor, but wasn't. But whenever I was in labor, I knew it, no questioning, just knew. This time I was questioning if I was in labor, but since it didn't fit my schedule, I was in denial in believing I wasn't in labor.
Todd got home from work just in time to pick the boys up from Scouts. I told him that there was a chance that I may be in the early stages of labor. He was excited, but then he started feeling anxiety, but you wouldn't know it for he went to pick the boys up from Scouts and came home over an hour later (he had to make sure all the other kids had gotten picked up).
Todd had obviously told the boys that there was a possibility of me being in labor for the boys ran into the house asking if the baby was here.
We knelt down for our evening family prayer. Roger said the prayer and specifically prayed for the baby that would be born "in the next 24 hours". Afterwards I told Roger that there was a good chance that the baby wouldn't be born that soon.
I was so sure that by lying down and going to sleep the contractions would go away and I would awaken the next morning without any contractions and the thought that I may have been in labor would just be a silly memory.
As I was trying to doze off, I kept having contractions. I convinced myself it was all mental and concentrated harder to keep my mind off of the contractions. I finally feel asleep, for about 2 hours, but then at 1:30 I woke up to the contractions continuing and not going away.
It became a moment of truth. If they weren't contractions, I wouldn't have them in my sleep. Also, if it was real labor, I needed to call my midwife so she would have enough time to get here (she missed Grant's birth).
I didn't want to admit I was in labor, but I also didn't want to have the baby without a midwife. I woke up Todd and we made the call to Pam.
Ten minutes later Iralee came bobbling into our room. This is not unusual, but I swear she could sense something was going on. She lied down on the bed between Todd and I and gave us a lot of hugs and smiles.
The contractions weren't terrible, but I couldn't sleep through them, so I just continued to rest in bed , or read stories to Iralee, while I dealt with the waves of pain.
When a contraction came, I focused my mind on breathing in and out deeply while counting slowly. I also tried to think about my body naturally making the changes it needed in order to go through labor.
When Pam arrived at 2:45, she came to my room and found the lights on low, soft music playing, and me snuggling Iralee.
We started timing my contractions and I was disappointed to find out they varied between 7-10 minutes apart. I felt as though if I would get up, walk around, bounce on the birthing ball, etc, I could speed up the process, but at the same time, I really enjoyed resting on my bed between contractions, listening to the peaceful music, and letting my mind relax.
When I am faced with pain, I want to just face it and get through it. With labor pains I just want to hurry and endure them so I can finish, but sometimes we need to enjoy those hard times. I know this sounds weird. I have had the same thoughts on running marathons. At times during the race, I just wish it was over, but then I remember all the months of hours of training that I had done to get my body and my mind able to run a marathon. After all that preparation, I only have very few hours to actually run the marathon. Yes, while training and running I look at the end result, but I only get a comparatively short time to experience what I train for, so why not enjoy it. The same with labor. Your body prepares for 9 months for the time to bring another life into the world. On top of all that, you only have the opportunity to go through so many labors in your lifetime, so why not enjoy the journey, no matter how painful. Also, how we deal with the pain in those moments really helps us to see who we are and what we can endure. So even though I am sure that I could have sped things up,
I am grateful that I just took a moment to breathe and enjoy the moment.
Around 4:30 my contractions seemed more powerful, but not necessarily more frequent. We found out I was at a 7, which could mean half an hour or still several hours.
Todd woke up Mikey and Roger. They came and lied down on the bed. They were excited for this baby to come out, but they too were very tired.
The intensity of the contractions was increasing. I could no longer endure just lying down during one. I would either get on my hands and knees or I would stand and lean against the bed. During the contractions Todd applied pressure to my lower back while Roger massaged my shoulders or rubbed my back. Iralee, following Roger's lead, rubbed my back as well.
The contractions were painful, but still manageable. In some ways I welcomed the contractions for they meant progression.
While resting in between contractions Pam told me I needed to start thinking of where I wanted to deliver the baby for a strong contraction could bring it to pushing time. I had done a water birth with Grant and had tried to do it again with Evee (but that didn't work) and I had wanted to do a waterbirth with Iralee but found myself ready to push without the tub being filled. I wanted to have this baby in the tub.
As we got things ready, Mikey took the initiative to make sure I got a priesthood blessing. He got Todd's keys, with the oil vial on the key ring, and brought them to Todd.
Todd gave me a blessing. I felt a lot of love and peace from it.
After that I moved to the tub. The water was scalding, so I added cold water. The water relaxed my body and caused my contractions to hold off for several moments.
Soon I started getting contractions, and as I felt more and more pressure in my lower back. I knew that I was getting closer to pushing.
I had a hard time getting in a good position to deal with the contractions, or to push. While sitting, I found myself sliding onto my back. I got on my knees and rested my arms on the side of the tub. In this position I felt as though I could deal with the contraction better, but it wasn't ideal for pushing.
As my next contraction rose, I felt the deep pressure in my back and knew that the time to push had come.
Whenever someone gives birth, you know that it's time to push for that is when the mother hits the wall and doesn't feel that she can go anymore.
Well, I lost. my. mind. I started crying. I felt that I should turn around, but the pain did not make it an easy transition. I turned around. I felt the urge to push, but in my panic I was unsure if I should push or even how to push. Looking back, I think there is some lingering trauma of my experience of attempting to deliver Evee in the tub. My body found itself in a similar situation and was scared that it was a repeat.
Though I was scared and in pain, I started to push. As I started pushing, I felt something come down, then I felt the "Ring of Fire". I paused for a moment, as my contraction paused as well, then started pushing again.
Pop!
The head came out and, oh, what relief. Again my contractions paused, so did I. I was told that the baby's head came out with the bag of waters still intact.
The cord was wrapped around the baby's neck, so Todd tried unwrapping it, but I had started pushing again. The baby came out, entangled in the cord, but not dangerously wrapped in it. I didn't know the cord was like that, so after the baby came out, Todd and Pam were unwrapping the cord while the baby was still in the water. It took them less than a moment to do this, but it allowed me to be the first to grab my baby from the water.
I brought the baby into my arms and was so happy to have him there. One of the boys was asking if the baby was a boy or a girl, but I just wanted to hug my baby, I didn't care what the gender was.
When I did pull the baby away to look, I was not surprised to find that we had a baby boy. A perfect baby boy, our perfect Henry.
Iralee, who had stayed awake through the night, had been excited each time Pam had listened to the baby's heart rate. She seemed to understand a little that a baby was coming. By the time I got into the tub, her exhaustion got the better of her. She wanted to get into the tub with me and cried when we wouldn't let her. Roger took her into my room and got an iPod for her. During the commotion of the final stage of labor, Iralee came back into the bathroom in time to see me deliver the baby. She seemed a little offish afterwards, refused to call him "Baby Henry", but rather insisted on "Baby Shon" (my nephew's name).
Afterwards Roger took Iralee downstairs where she quickly fell asleep. After her nap she came into my room. While at the door she was still hesitant towards Henry, but I invited her up onto my bed. She came over and in no time she had fallen in love with her new baby brother.
Mikey, who loves science, hates blood and guts. When Iralee was born, Roger cut the umbilical cord, but Mikey refused to even watch. Before Henry's delivery, Todd convinced Mikey to cut the cord; which he did. After the cord was cut, Roger was the first person to hold Henry as he took him into my room and waited for me to join them.
Todd helped me to my bed where we got some alone time with the baby. He is so perfect.
During those crazy moments before the birth, and immediately after I question myself on why I didn't just go to the hospital and have an epidural. To be pain-free would be amazing, but nothing beats the peace and comfort of being in your own bed, in your own home, with a lot less distractions and protocol.
All day I got to be in my room, on my bed, with Henry, being able to just sleep. The only people coming in and out of my room (and not too frequently) were my family.
I use to think that births went similarly, especially for the same mother, but I realize that is not true. Mine have all been different. My first two were induced, next two I woke up in the early morning to contractions and had the baby by the early afternoon. The two girls' labor started with the water breaking, one's labor took 40 hours, the other 4 hours. With Henry, I had contractions start in the early evening and delivered early the next morning. I've had 3 planned hospital births and 3 home births, and 1 birth that was attempted to be at home but transferred to the hospital. I've had 2 water births, 3 births without any pain medication, and 4 with an epidural.
But even though each of these children come from the same mother and father, they are each very different. They all have their own personalities. It is so fun to get to know them, to have relationships with them. That is one thing I love about having children is the fact that you will get to know their personalities and who they are more and more each day.
The more children I have, the more sacred the birth, and the more emotional I get during the first time I am meeting my child. Partly because I realize more of how this child will impact my life, how much I will be willing to do and sacrifice for this child, how much I love this child. Birth is the one place where you truly get to fall in love at first sight.
When I was in labor, but the contractions were still manageable, I was wishing that I could get lucky and deliver without too much pain. Then the thought came to me, "but don't you want to endure that pain and earn that self-award of triumphing over it". In the moment, yes, I would happily skip the pain and the fear, but now, after the fact, I am grateful for the intensities of the experience. I am grateful to have experienced the sacrifices necessary to have Henry in my life.
During the first 20 minutes after birth, while the memory of the pain was still very real, I thought to myself that I wasn't sure that I would have another baby. But now I would do it all over again, and I would do it again just for Henry. I would again spend months sick on the couch. I would again spend 9 months with low energy levels. I would again spend months being uncomfortable and large. I would again go through painful labor for him. He is worth the sacrifices.
Though it isn't enjoyable, I am grateful for the opportunity I have to make these sacrifices for someone else. Carrying a child in your womb, being a mother, is such an awesome privilege. I often forget that and think selfishly about what my needs are and what I want. I'm grateful for experiences
that remind me that one of God's greatest gifts to us is the opportunity to selflessly serve someone else.
Evelyn responded more favorably to Henry than she did when Iralee was born. She had, and still has no desire to hold or hug Henry, and she still pushes him away if I put him near her, but she is intrigued by him. She likes to watch me nurse him and will sign, "Baby Henry eat milk".
Henry Frew was born on August 26, 2015
