Call the Midwife

I remember finding out that I was pregnant with my first son, not feeling pregnant and finding it unbelievable that I was.  I remember the long hours of just sitting in my chair with my hand on my belly trying to imagine being a mother and saying “Mom” out loud trying to imagine a child saying that to me.  I remember the pregnancy lasting forever and how excited I was to finally get to wear maternity clothes.  I remember the first hours of labor with a mix of excitement and fear.   I remember being put into the bed and being told I couldn’t walk around because they needed to keep me on the baby monitor and just wanting to walk around and wanting to walk around and wanting to walk around but always being told No.  I remember not being allowed food or water “just in case”. I remember the hateful nurse coming  in and telling me I was “failure to progress” and quoting the definition of failure to progress from William’s Obstetrics.  I remember telling her to get the hell out of my room and refusing pitocin, having my waters broken and any other medical intervention they had planned.  I remember my husband looking at me wondering why I was refusing and continuing to refuse an epidural again and again and again.  I remember finally relenting to an epidural after pushing for 2 hours and the OB telling me she would have to use forceps.  I remember feeling like a piece of meat after the epidural and feeling like something very precious had been taken away from me - feeling violated instead of elated giving birth. I remember being unable to see my husband’s face when Zach was born because he was required to wear a mask.  I remember Zach being taken away from me and not seeing him for an hour or two.   I remember swearing I would never do this again with this doctor in this hospital and thinking it’s a shame I won’t have the four kids I wanted because this was such a horrible experience.  

I remember finding out I was pregnant with my second son and the pregnancy going much faster with little time to sit in my chair with my hand on my belly because I was taking care of my first.  I remember worrying about how this new little baby would change our family dynamics and thinking about how happy the three of us were and why would I even think about changing that.  I remember trying to explain to my husband why I wanted the birth to be in our own home with a midwife instead of the hospital with nurses and doctors who didn’t believe in my body’s abilities, and how happy I was when he supported my decision.  I remember walking around and around the block with my husband as the labor progressed.  I  remember the midwife and a couple of my friends arriving at the house to be there with us and the midwife telling me I could get into whatever position felt comfortable and could eat or drink whatever sounded good to me.  I remember both my parents and Zach being close by.  I remember at one point telling the midwife I didn’t think I could handle the pain and she offered me a change in position, a back rub and soothing words instead of the epidural and my two friends, Jon and the midwife encouraging me every step of the way.  I remember the midwife talking me through every minute of the actual birth and reaching down and touching my baby’s head when birth was imminent.  I remember being able to see Jon’s face as he sat at my head and watched his second son be born.  I remember lying in my own bed in my own room surrounded by the midwife, my husband, my two friends and my parents and Zach crawling up onto the bed, touching the new baby and saying “Can I pet him?”  I remember lying in my bed and listening as they all passed Jake around and oohed and aahed.  I remember feeling like I really could do this two more times as it was such an incredible experience. 

I remember finding out that I was unexpectedly pregnant for the third time and it taking me a week or two to get used to the idea of having another baby so soon.  I remember warming up to the idea pretty quickly.   I remember having to choose another midwife since we had moved and grieving the fact that I could not have the one I had with my second. I remember this pregnancy going even faster and not having time to fully prepare for it, being so busy with my other two that I could barely give this one a thought.  I remember being sad about that.  I remember thinking what it would be like to have a girl this time but knowing in my heart that it would be a third son and being fine with that.  I remember being in the car with my two boys and my husband to go look at a possible home to purchase when my waters broke.  I was only 33 weeks but I remember my husband saying it would be ok.  I remember how sad I felt that my plans for another home birth were thwarted because this baby was too early.   I remember telling the doctor the baby was coming and him not believing me.  I remember thinking “Damn, here I am back in the hospital with people who treat me like I’m an idiot.”  I remember his surprise when Sam slid into the world just at that moment and he wasn’t prepared to catch him so I did.   I remember cradling Sam in my arms for just a moment before they whisked him away to the NICU and sending Jon with them so Sam wouldn’t be alone.  I remember having to go home without my baby and my arms aching to hold him.  I remember returning to the hospital every two hours to breastfeed him and the nurses rolling their eyes at me when I wouldn’t let them give him a bottle.  I remember after three days of him being in the NICU and being fine I told them I was taking him home - that what he really needed was to be at home with his mother.  I remember the pediatrician disagreeing with my decision and the neonatologist giving me his blessing.  I remember Sam just sliding into our family unit with barely a whimper.  

I remember finding out I was pregnant with our fourth child and everyone asking if I was still trying for a girl thinking that’s the only reason I would want a fourth.  And I remember thinking how wrong they were and that in my heart what I really really really wanted was for this baby to be as healthy as the rest.  I remember being exhausted throughout this pregnancy because I was taking care of three boys under the age of 5.  I remember having preterm contractions and being sent a home baby monitor and having to lie still for one hour a day to get a reading on the monitor to send in to the baby monitoring center and how hard it was to find an hour a day to do this.  I remember finally just tossing the monitor into the closet and taking my chances.  I remember very little from this pregnancy because it was going too fast and I was too busy.  I remember picking out both a boy and a girl’s name but knowing in my heart of hearts that it would be another son.  I remember my Mom and I just finishing up a huge Mexican casserole and licking our plates clean when the first contraction came.  I remember being 36 weeks and 6 days and the midwife telling me I had to be 37 weeks to give birth at home so I told her I would cross my legs until midnight and she better get her butt here.  I remember her agreeing it was close enough but she was an hour and a half away and would try to get there in time. My neighbor, Nancy who was a nurse, came over to help Jon and my Mom just in case the baby came too quickly.  I remember hearing them discuss not taking me to the hospital because labor was moving quickly and it would be better for me to have the baby at home than on route 101.  I remember walking around while I labored thinking I shouldn’t have had that last helping of Mexican casserole.  I remember Nancy taking the boys to her  house next door because they all pretty much decided they didn’t want to see the baby be born.    I remember the midwife telling me to slow down my breathing because I had  awhile to go and thinking should I tell her this baby is coming and deciding I didn’t have the energy and she would find out soon enough.  I remember my Mom excited to actually see a birth for the first time because when she had her four children she never saw them born as they would give her anesthesia right at the moment of birth. She left the room for just one minute to get the warm blankets and while she was away my fourth son was born and she missed it.  I remember the boys coming back home and seeing their baby brother for the first time just moments after his birth and Drew wouldn’t stop crying until his oldest brother took him into his arms.  I remember listening as the boys passed their little baby brother, Drew, around trying to make him smile and feeling grateful that I was in my own bed in my own home with my Mom, my husband and my four little boys.