Stories of labor on Labor Day

What better way to celebrate Labor Day than to read stories of labor and delivery from moms in the Green Grandma community?

Click here for links to unique stories of each mama's individual experience.

Happy Labor Day and happy reading!

Supermom! How I birthed my baby -- Part 11

In the 11th part of this series, Samantha Rawagah shares the story of her son's birth at The Midwife Center for Birth and Woman's Health in Pittsburgh. Follow Samantha on her blog: My Jordanian Nugget.

On February 28, 2013 I was working from home, thinking that I hope tomorrow is my last Friday I have to go to work. I was able to get dinner cooked and worked on by baby blog. I haven't done either of these things in a really long time. Something was different. I felt good... I felt like I had energy. I had my bags packed and the house was sort of clean, I was just waiting for a baby that I believed would probably be staying in there for a little longer. Then things changed. I was taking out my contacts that have to sit in their solution for 6 hours; I thought that I shouldn't put them in there in case I went into labor that night. I know this a weird random thought but this was my concern at the time.

I assumed my third trimester sleeping spot on the couch and went to sleep. I woke up around 4:00 a.m. to go to the bathroom. I felt a little bit of leakage, but I thought I just had to pee. I wasn't sure, so I laid back down and started to Google "What happens when your water breaks." Then I got up because I felt like I had to go to the bathroom again. I made it to the kitchen and then my water broke at 4:17 a.m. This time, I was sure. I called for my husband and he asked if I was certain. The large puddle under me confirmed it had, in fact, happened. At that moment I forgot what the midwives told me to do. The water was clear and I was GBS negative, so I thought I was good to stay home, but I called the on-call midwife anyway. She told me to go back to bed and call again at 8 a.m. to assess my contractions, which hadn't really started yet. GO BACK TO BED?! I am having a baby soon and the best part was my dad insisted the baby would come mid-March... he was wrong. Yes, this was one of the first thoughts that went through my head.

So I gave sleeping a try, but I was getting random, inconsistent contractions that were uncomfortable. I got up to walk around. No one told me that when your water breaks, the leaking does not stop. This is when I dressed in my new outfit of Depends and a birthing gown. I dosed off every once in awhile, but barely slept. Finally, I texted my best friend, Lauren, who would be joining us for the birth, but had quite the drive from West Virginia to make it. She got things cleared up at work and headed here to Pittsburgh. Getting closer to 8:00, I showered and did my hair... you know, the important things. Then I called the new on-call midwife to see what the plan would be. She asked if I wanted to come in for an early labor progress check. Declining, I told her I would rather stay home. She told me to pay attention to my contractions and that I would know when to come in. There wasn't a formula she could give and I was okay with staying home... until I didn't want to anymore. I was starting to have contractions that were timeable. I walked around the house and did some squats, trying to kick start active labor. Dufda went to get some Chinese food for us around 2:30 p.m. While I was eating, the midwife called me and asked if I would like to come in to have my progressed checked. I agreed, after I finished my lunch of course, since rush hour was about to start and I didn't want to have to be stuck in traffic while I was laboring. So we loaded up the car and headed to the Birth Center. I sort of thought we would go home to make more progress, so I wasn't getting my hopes up. On the way there, my contractions all but stopped. I had one minute-long contraction on Grant Street that hurt like hell.

When we arrived at the Birth Center I had Ghaith park in the parking lot because I didn't want to take the unloading zone spot reserved for the birthing moms. I stepped out the car and had a really bad contraction. We didn't bring any of the bags in, because I really thought I had more time. I was waiting in the Ocean room, my first choice of birthing rooms. As soon as the midwife came to check me, I started having contractions about a minute long each and they were three minutes apart. It was as if my body knew I was allowed to have the baby now and kicked into gear. Ghaith moved the car, because we would officially be "unloading" my precious cargo sometime soon. Lauren was called and was given the go ahead to make her way down to the room.

When they checked my progress, I was 3cm at 4:00 p.m., 12 hours after my water broke. I needed to get to 4cm to get into the tub. I labored with breathable contractions until 6 p.m. It really wasn't that hard. At 6:00, I was checked again and was able to get into the tub. At this point, I could laugh and chat with Lauren and Ghaith after each contraction. It was like we were just hanging out... that would be if we typically hung out with me naked in a tub and my best friend and husband chillin' tubside. It was oddly normal.

At 7 p.m. the shift changed for the on-call nurse and midwife. This was also the turning point in my labor where I went from being a super happy laboring mama to a demon. I felt pretty bad for the new staff. At one point, Ghaith tried to tickle my stomach and the voice that came out of me telling him he better stop was that of a gorilla, with a little bit of Satan thrown in. I remember the new midwife, Abby, checking my progress and saying I was about 6-7 or 7-8cm, I can't remember exactly. Panic settled in. I was hot in the tub and couldn't get a good grip on anything. I think at one point, I actually kicked and screamed like a child. There may have been some tears, as well. I got out of the tub and Abby was able to check me again. Unfortunately, I was only about 6cm, which made me really cry, because I felt like I was going backwards. This, however, was far from the truth. I labored on the birthing ball until about 8pm. There is no sugar coating it; it hurt so bad. Screaming was just wasting my energy, so I switched to a really low hum. I slept in between contractions. Several times, I shouted out that I needed to push. Abby said I was not ready and not to waste my energy. At one point, she was able to push my cervix back around the head, so I was the complete 10cm. Finally, I was able to start pushing. I tried pushing on the toilet, on my hands and knees, and eventually ended up in the one position I didn't think I would like... sitting up. Let me tell you... pushing is awesome. It gives you something new to do and feels like you are actually making progress. I imagine it really hurt, but honestly, I just can't remember.


Jad started to emerge. Ghaith, who said he didn't' want to see him coming out, was all over watching his little noggin come out of this very small hole. I, on the other hand, was offered a mirror and told them to keep it. There is a point at which you are able to see your baby's head, but you aren't able to push because you aren't having a contraction. This was when I panicked. I wasn't prepared for how the head would look coming out. He was either going to have one of those little miniature heads on a stick, or be a member of the Conehead cast. Cue the oxygen... for mom. Nugget's heartrate was dropping slightly while I was pushing and I noticed commotion to the side of me, but wasn't sure exactly what was going on. I found out a little later that an extra midwife was being called just in case Nugget had any issues. Abby came over and looked at me and told me I needed to push harder. I think I looked at her like I would incinerate her face with my glare, but I pushed harder than I ever thought I could. Low and behold, a baby came out. Here is where my thought process went out the window. They placed Nugget on my chest at 8:59 p.m. and my first thought was, "What the heck is this?" I kept Jad pretty covered up, although Ghaith really wanted to see him. I was so concentrated on pushing, that I forgot I was going to get something at the end. Shock, is the only word that I could use to describe the feeling of being handed a human... a human I created... that I was now responsible for... yeah, it was pretty overwhelming. 

 

Next, I basked in the bliss of giving birth au natural. I am told I don't get a medal for this, but I tend to disagree. My medal is pretty awesome, don't you think?

My wonderful nurse, Ashley, served me breakfast in bed and it was the best freakin' omelet and English muffin I have ever eaten. Lauren left after a little while and Ghaith and I were able to enjoy the fruit of my labor. Of course, we did what all other new parents would do. We dressed him up and took lots of pictures.

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Click the links below to read some amazing birth stories from our group of Supermoms!


Part 1 -- my personal story 
Part 2 -- Candice's story 
Part 3 -- Lisa's story 
Part 4 -- Julie Ann's story
Part 5 -- Wanda's story
Part 6 -- Stacie's story
Part 7 -- Breanna's story 

Part 8 -- Amanda's story

Part 9 -- Sara's story 
Part 10 -- Valerie's story

Supermom! How I birthed my baby -- Part 9

Today, in Part 9 of our birth stories' series, Sara Pearsall shares her experience with natural childbirth (despite the pain), thanks to a birthing plan she and her husband came up with ahead of time.

Ellie Sara   JP Photog-gra-fee

Our story starts about ten months before we welcomed our daughter in to the world. We were living in Hawaii, on the island of O’ahu. At this time our close friends were ready and waiting to meet their little boy. He arrived a little bit ahead of schedule and was a true blessing! We hurried to the hospital to meet him (and congratulate them). As soon as I held that little one in my arms I knew I was ready to have a baby of our own. However, we had already decided we were not going to take the road in to parenthood. It took a little bit of soul searching and some convincing, but eventually we agreed to give it a try. 

A few weeks later, as we were driving across the country (from Hawaii to Virginia) we discovered some amazing news; we were having a little one of our own! It was a little intimidating for me because it happened very quickly after we had decided to try. I feel very strongly that the reason it was so quick for us is that I had been seeing an acupuncturist for over a year. I feel that, thanks to her guidance in helping to make my body healthy, it was ready for some baby making!

After finding the best doctor in our new hometown and confirming that we indeed had a bundle on the way, we headed to the bookstore to buy all the books we could to prepare us for pregnancy and beyond (my favorite were the Ina May Gaskin books). We signed up for Bradley Birthing classes and immediately started being more cognitive of my eating habits (which were always healthy, but thanks to the nausea, I had lost my appetite). I was trying to stay active by walking every day and taking prenatal yoga classes.

At 24 weeks, I started to feel some back pain, but wrote it off as my body changing to carry the weight. As a couple more days passed, I started feeling some tightness across my belly, but knew Braxton-Hicks contractions were not unheard of at this point. After another day of back pain and tummy tightness, I finally called the doctor and was quickly admitted to the hospital for early labor. It took two days to get the contractions under control. Thankfully, there was no progress otherwise, but none-the-less I was put on bed rest. It was awfully boring! Following several weeks of appointments with our doctors and midwife, the bed rest was relaxed to allow me some light “around the house” activities. At 34 weeks, all restrictions were lifted and my doctors encouraged that I try to be “reasonably” active.

Listening to the advice of our Bradley instructor we did some research and came up with a birthing plan. We kept it simple (as was suggested by the Labor and Delivery nurse in our Bradley classes). Our basic desires were to have a natural birth without being offered any medications, formula or pacifiers. We asked that my husband be informed at all times of labor progression because we knew I may just be a little preoccupied to make the best decisions should an emergency arise. Our doctors and midwife were very supportive of our choices. We knew, since I had already spent three days in the labor and delivery unit, that the nursing staff would be caring and understanding as well.

As the end was drawing nearer, I found myself becoming more and more anxious to meet our little lady. I began nesting as much as was possible in our small apartment. So, on Sunday, February 26, to prepare for the arrival of our little one, I was trying to get our living room in order. We went out looking for a clock to hang on the wall. We moseyed about several stores and enjoyed a wonderful lunch. Returning home without any good finds, I decided to put my feet up and just relax on the couch. I was worn out, but otherwise felt pretty great. According to the doctors’ proclaimed delivery date, I was at 36 weeks. Within twenty minutes of sitting down, I felt a pretty strong contraction. The time was 5:45 p.m.

About an hour later, the contractions were coming irregularly but were increasing in strength. Naturally I did what any person in labor would do; I called my Mom (my entire family lives in Ohio). We knew from our Bradley classes that if you cannot continue to talk through a contraction, they are becoming pretty serious and you should prepare to leave soon, or ready your birthing area if you chose to do it at home. While on the phone with my mom, I had to stop talking more than once. Here was our cue to call the doctor. I was just leery because of the irregular time between each contraction as well as the length of each. We knew we could get sent home if it wasn’t true labor. Well, that thought was completely thrown out when the nurse on duty found out my laboring history. We were told to head in immediately.

Of course, we had not packed a bag yet so I was running (more like waddling quickly) around throwing stuff in a suitcase while my husband was worrying about the important stuff like doing a load of laundry and making sure he put the baby swing together (all by my request of course)! At this point it had been about an hour and fifteen minutes. My contractions were ranging from 30 seconds to 1 minute in length and were happening randomly every 3-10 minutes.

After what felt like the longest walk down the flight of stairs from our apartment to the truck (we had to stop twice for contractions), my husband helped load me in the front seat and off we went. The birthing center was about 20 minutes away, depending on traffic in the tunnels. Now, most people would exceed the speed limit to make the journey a little faster. Not my concerned man. Nope. He drove at the speed limit the entire way. He was making all of the important phone calls to our parents letting them know what was going on. About 10 minutes into the trip, we both realized my contractions had regulated and they were every 3 minutes or less and were lasting about 1-2 minutes each. Because of the contractions, it took some time walking into the birthing center once we arrived. At this point, I was having visions of delivering on the doorstep!

Once we got signed in and shown to our birthing room, the nurse asked the obvious questions about my progress, took my vitals and started hooking me up to the contraction monitor. We talked for about a minute regarding our birthing plan before she checked to see how far I was dilated, which at this point had been the worst part of this entire process. The look on her face was enough to tell us we were going to be staying a while (I was 8 centimeters dilated). She left to call the doctor. My contractions up this point had not been unbearable, or even bad really, it just took some concentration to get through them.

Meanwhile, my husband was being very supportive and attentive. He was coaching me through the contractions, massaging, and trying to draw my focus to positive thoughts – especially the one about meeting our daughter soon. Then transition hit. I don’t remember much about this phase because everything was happening so fast it sort of blurred together. I know I was very scared. I know that I asked for an epidural, which my husband continuously reminded me we had decided we did not want. We both knew I could have this baby naturally. He tells me I got a little feisty a few times between contractions, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Thankfully transition was quite short! The nurse had been back to check on us a few times and we could tell she was getting antsy to see the doctor. We joked about her delivering the baby, but it seemed like it was going to be reality pretty quickly.

The practice we had chosen had two doctors and a midwife on staff. Throughout the pregnancy we met with each of them several times. We knew that any one of them could be helping us to deliver our little one. When Dr. Lee walked into our room just a short while later, we were both so relieved to see her! We knew we were in good hands. At this point, my water had not yet broken. Dr. Lee broke my water, which was pretty uneventful. I felt a little trickle, not the massive gush I had heard about from so many other women.

My husband, Dr. Lee, and the two nurses who were in the room did an amazing job of coaching me through the first two series of pushes. I was not quiet. There was definitely some moaning and yelling. During the third series our daughter started to crown. I was having a difficult time breathing so I was given some oxygen to help. Dr. Lee told me to get ready to push again. I remember telling her rather bluntly “No.” She gave me an understanding look, told me to take another couple of breaths, and then we would continue. My husband, to be encouraging, told me he could see our daughter’s hair. This stopped everything for me. I yelled out, “She has hair!” which apparently everyone else in the room found rather funny. One more series of pushes, and our daughter was fully delivered, followed by a huge gush of fluid that, sadly, covered everyone in the room except my husband. I felt horrible about this, but was so distracted by the beautiful little girl in my arms! The time was 10:32 p.m.

While our daughter was laying on my chest, she peed, which I thought was pretty funny, amazing and beautiful all at the same time. I tried nursing her right away. She suckled for a couple of seconds but not much more. Eventually, Dr. Lee said we needed to cut the cord because the placenta was about to be delivered (we had previously discussed delayed cord clamping). Delivering the placenta felt very weird. I remember thinking about Jello right about that time. After that part was over, I needed stitches (9 total) due to a second degree tear. For me, this turned out to be the most painful of the entire labor and delivery. My body did not have enough time to naturally “numb” that area so I could feel everything and it hurt pretty badly. Dr. Lee administered more than one shot to numb me, but it didn’t seem to help. I had to hand our daughter to my husband (they did all of her vitals and checked her length and weight at this point).

After everything was over, one of the nurses came in to help me shower off, then moved me to the room I’d be in for the rest of our stay. It was determined our daughter was 38 weeks old and absolutely perfect in every single way! She was 5 pounds 7 ounces and 21 inches long. We spent the next couple of days, with the amazing support of the hospital staff, beginning the process of nursing and getting to know our little one.

Our choice to have a natural birth was met with a lot of questions along the way. Why would you want to do that when there are drugs available? We had our reasons. The top of my list was that women are designed to birth babies. Our bodies can do it and we can take it. We are made that way. I did have some reservations at times wondering about my own tolerance level, but I received some amazing advice from my aunt at my baby shower. She told me that when she birthed all three of her girls, including my twin cousins, it hurt… a lot. She said it was the best feeling in the world because that short bit of pain was bringing her beautiful babies into their lives. She told me to stick to my decision and not let anyone tell me otherwise. I think it helped most just to be supported so openly for once. Along your journey to birthing your little ones – however you chose to do it – I hope you find the same adamant support for your choices. Stand by them. You can do it! You are strong enough!

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While Sara was able to follow through with her plan, I realize it doesn't always work out that way, as is evidenced by some of the other stories in the series. Click the links below to read some amazing birth stories from our group of Supermoms!

Part 1 -- my personal story 
Part 2 -- Candice's story 
Part 3 -- Lisa's story 
Part 4 -- Julie Ann's story
Part 5 -- Wanda's story
Part 6 -- Stacie's story
Part 7 -- Breanna's story 

Part 8 -- Amanda's story

  

Supermom! How I birthed my baby -- Part 7

Today, in Part 7 of our birth stories series, Breanna Lien shares her tale of a birth plan gone awry. Follow Breanna on her blog, Bree, Babes and Beauty. 

I should begin by sharing the birth plan I had for as long as I can remember which was to have a midwife and all water births. I understood that when the time came I may not want to be in water for the entire process but I definitely wanted the option. My mom had both hospital and home births. Her favorite were her two water births and I wanted the same wonderful experience. I chose a midwife and a birth center and was convinced this first birth, though difficult, would be amazing. We studied, we had a plan and we were confident.

My mom was in town to help Kenny and I through our first time, which was a comfort, especially since I considered her a pro. I was so ready to have our baby and was not nervous about giving birth; rather incurring unforeseen medical expenses. I had an appointment the Wednesday after my due date (Sunday) and my mom was able to come to her first prenatal appointment as well as see the birth center and meet my midwives. I was dilated to 2cm and had been for a few weeks. I scheduled an appointment at the hospital for the following Monday (41weeks) to do a fetal stress test to ensure it was okay to continue waiting on baby. On the drive home I cried to my mom and everything I was feeling came to the surface. I absolutely wanted to meet my baby, but I didn't want to be induced. I knew my baby was fine and was upset because we could not afford another bill for a test or a hospital birth since we had to pay that out-of-pocket in conjunction with the birth center fee. I cried and cried. I wanted to be able to do this naturally. I wanted financial peace. I wanted the birth I always dreamed of and I wanted to have a beautiful experience I could be proud of. I worried if I acted irrationally during labor it would make me less of a woman. I wanted to be strong.

My mom comforted me in that moment. She shared her wisdom that your birth is your special birth and experience no matter how it happens. She told me I would do great. Every woman is different and that is okay. She told me even if I had to have my baby in the hospital it would be okay. Even if we had a huge bill, somehow it would be alright. No matter what, we would have our baby and all would be beautiful. God would take care of it all. She told me there is no wrong way, which helped me feel empowered and at peace with whatever was going to happen.

I never made it to that appointment. Friday night, after a couple days of early labor and a couple visits to the birth center my labor began. I had only slept four hours since Wednesday night, with my consistent early contractions keep me up but bringing on baby. At the birth center my husband, Kenny, and I tried to get some sleep before the big event. I let him and everyone sleep while I just let the contractions come in the large beautiful tub. Eventually I woke my husband and they called the nurse around 2 a.m. Finally the real thing was happening! Kenny stayed with me and during the time I spent in water, he lovingly told me, "You were made to give birth this way. You are so relaxed in there. You are doing great!" I was exhausted but felt empowered to do this.

A few hours later, I was in the tub and started thinking, “Okay, I think I’m done now. I can’t do this anymore.” I quietly told Kenny what I was thinking and with each contraction he told me, “You can do this.” I repeated back to him, “I can do this,” as the contractions came and I breathed through them.

At about 6 a.m., my midwife planned to take a nap to rest up for the big event. She asked if I wanted her to check me to see how far I had progressed before she went into the other room. My first answer was no, as I was certain I was only going to be dilated to 5cm and would be discouraged. Then I remembered how a little while before I had been feeling like I needed to quit. What if that was transition? I had her check me. Sure enough, I was dilated to 8. I was in transition. Just then my water broke. I had a renewed energy in that moment. I smiled when Kenny came back in the room after a quick rest and snack as I proudly told him my water broke. I started breathing her  down (though I didn’t know she was a ‘her’ yet) and intently working with my midwives. At around 8 a.m., I started pushing. I don’t remember much about the next six hours. Honestly, I don’t know how it lasted six hours. At 10 a.m., they saw the head and again there was renewed energy! Here comes my baby, I thought.

I should point out I always thought women were a bit dramatic when it came to labor. I still truly believe you can have a peaceful experience and that birth is beautiful. I would get so mad watching shows and movies where birth was a screaming, chaotic mess. I felt it scared women and I still feel that way somewhat, even though the last few hours of my experience put those movies to shame. At around noon I was sitting on a birth stool still trying to get this baby to crown with no luck. A nurse asked if I wanted to feel baby’s head and all I could feel was a soft spot the size of a nickel as I happened to look at the clock. It read a little after 12 p.m. In that moment, I lost it. I felt betrayed and lied to. These people had been telling me my baby was almost here for over four hours and she was nowhere close! I frantically told Kenny they were lying and didn’t know how I could keep going. He kept smiling at me, holding me and telling me I could. I was made for this. What I didn’t know was that he was silently looking to my mom that entire time to keep him encouraged so he wouldn’t lose it in front of me. This was the hardest thing he has done, too; just in a different way.

The next two hours passed quickly in my memory, but wore on forever in the moment. They were checking baby’s heart rate with every push. I knew that pushing too long could cause the heart rate to drop but I wanted to have her naturally so I would push as long as possible then take a huge breath before pushing again. When the contraction subsided I would take deep breaths too. Her heart rate stayed perfectly normal but my contractions started slowing. I had no idea anything could be wrong. At 1:30, my midwife informed me she was going to give me 30 minutes. I would have to give it my all and if we didn’t make significant progress we were going to have to go to the hospital where, depending on the OB's assessment, they would have to use the vacuum or perform a cesarean section. I was shocked, but I so trusted this woman with 30 years of experience and I knew she just wanted us to be safe. I gave it my all. I screamed and pushed with all my might, but we made absolutely no progress. I couldn’t get dressed, so they got me into a gown. Hair wet from the tub, barefoot, crying and pushing, we drove to the hospital. The car ride was agonizing but all I could hope for was to get there and have my baby. I was exhausted and hungry. I had barely been able to eat and hadn’t slept in over two days by this point. It didn’t matter anymore how I gave birth to her. I just wanted my baby in my arms.

My OB was amazing. She moved quickly as she explained everything that happened. At one look, she informed me I would need a c-section. She gently, but seriously, told me I need to try to stop pushing. All I really remember was a feeling of fear and desperation. I would do whatever was necessary at this point. I had done all my body could manage and then some.

When the anesthesia kicked in, I was so relieved I had to try really hard not to cry. Almost immediately, I was close to being myself again, chatting with the anesthesiologist as I waited for Kenny to get there. The doctor told me he was amazed I wasn’t asleep with everything I had been through. Kenny came in with tears in his eyes telling me how much he loved me and how proud he was. I made him save that talk for later because I didn’t want to cry during surgery while unable to feel what my body was doing so he just held my hand and stroked my hair. 

My midwife had told me it would feel uncomfortable when they pulled her out but I didn’t feel a thing. I looked up and realized the drape shielding my view was violently shaking and knew they must be getting her out. I heard the OB say, “Oh wow! This baby was never coming out any other way but this way.” It was 3:40 p.m., and I heard her cry for the first time. Kenny stood to see our baby. As he looked at me, tears started running down his face and he announced, “We have a girl. A beautiful baby girl.” I wanted to hold her but was unable to as they put me back together and cleaned her up.

Kenny walked over to where they were taking her measurements and swaddling her. We had decided on two names for both a boy and a girl but were waiting until we saw our child before choosing his or her name. It could be anyone in there and we wanted to pair the right name with the right person. I asked Kenny as he looked at her, “Who is she?” He turned with tears still in his eyes and said, “It’s Amelia. Amelia Rose.” Once she was all bundled up they gave her to Kenny and she didn’t leave his arms until I was in recovery and we were able to do skin to skin. It was there she latched for the first time to nurse and we were able to go to our room.

This was the birth I had never wanted, but this was the little girl I had always dreamed of. Recovering from a c-section is extremely difficult and I had never realized that. We had many tears and many struggles to get us to where we are. I had support from my family, husband and the staff at the hospital I never could have dreamed of. The nurses were amazing, the doctors equally amazing, the lactation consultants were everything I could have asked for, and they even had someone who was able to help us with requesting financial aid.

Days of early labor, 18 plus hours of real labor, 6 hours of pushing, an unplanned c-section, baby with a tongue tie and jaundice, a 5 day hospital stay and a bill we were never going to be able to pay off… but an unforgettable experience we were absolutely blessed by.

 A few months after the birth, we discovered the bill was completely taken care of and all we were responsible for was the OB and anesthesiologist. I was stunned. We have been exclusively breastfeeding for over 5 months now. Our little girl who was jaundiced with a tongue tie has had the tongue tie corrected and is now in the 90 something percentile for weight. Amelia (Millie as we call her now) is an amazing, thriving little girl. She is so bonded to her Daddy and I believe that is due to the c-section. Kenny was the one who soothed her, changed her, calmed her and held her when I wasn’t nursing. She had a bond with him from days old that even the pediatrician commented on as being something special and unusual for her age.

C-sections are never ideal in my opinion. Regardless, we were blessed through this one. I found out later she was stuck because her head was coming out wrong and she was too large for my body in the position she was in. No, it did not go anything like I planned but what I had to realize was if I had waited another day we both would have died. It was a long difficult recovery and for a while I doubted myself for not being able to do it the “right” way. That doubt was quite simply a lie. I was no less of a woman for needing a c-section and I’m so grateful I was surrounded by people who loved me enough to reassure me of that truth. Through this experience I have gained a wonderful breastfeeding relationship with my baby girl, my husband and I have grown immensely, both as individuals and as a couple, and now I can better encourage others who have had to stray from their original birth plan. There is no wrong way. There is only the way a child is born. No matter the means, birth is beautiful and something to be so very proud of.