Emmeline's Birth

Pregnancy with Isla was a breeze compared to pregnancy with Emmeline. My body took that relaxin hormone and ran with it. The last month was tough physically. Somehow my shoulder was injured and burned with pain, my left hip and back were painful, and the heartburn was ridiculous. I started having contractions around 30 weeks, and became nervous a few times due to the intensity. My midwife, Michelle Ray, was in Hawaii when I was 33 weeks and experiencing continuous contractions along with pressure. She advised visiting my backup OB. I was told there to go to the hospital for a steroid shot because I was about 2cm dilated and very effaced. We were also told that I would not go full term. Travis was with me, and we decided to have lunch after the OB appointment to research the shot & what I was experiencing. We decided against the shot quickly after learning that a woman can stay extremely effaced and dilated for a long period of time. My friend experienced something similar and she went 10 weeks past her appointment, so we concluded that it was unnecessary. Emmeline was later born at 41 weeks.

I still expected her to come early based on the amount of pressure and contractions. She had other plans. Tuesday, May 5th, I woke up at 8am with some mild contractions but more pressure than I experienced before. I made breakfast and waited for Isla to wake up. I told Travis to stay home because I thought labor had possibly started. It wasn't painful starting out, the pressure was a lot, but what I experienced with Isla threw me off. I wasn't actually sure if this was it. With Isla, my water broke first and everything became intense quickly. I had never experienced a painless contraction while in labor. A few hours later we played cards and started timing the contractions. There was a pattern some of the time, and I noticed the contractions getting closer together. I called my midwife to let her know I was probably in labor, still wasn't sure if it would be that day or the next. Around 2pm I started leaking fluid. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but assumed I had a slow leak in the bag of waters. I let my midwife know about the fluid, and told her the contractions were closer together and there was a lot of pressure, but still not too painful. The pressure didn't feel good by any means, it stopped me in my tracks, but it was tolerable. She asked if I needed her, and I responded by saying I really wasn't sure. She said she would pack up all of her stuff and take her time driving to my house. I also let my doula, Lauren Caldwell, know it was probably time. I continued to work through the pressure and soon knew I was in the beginning stages and it would likely happen that day. I felt excited, nervous, and somewhat in shock that it wasn't hurting worse. Was this what I read about in birth stories, the first stage of labor? I never knew it could feel so mild. Michelle, her assistant, Mary, and Lauren all arrived around 5pm. Isla was also waking up from her nap, so my mom picked her up to spend the day at her house during the birth. At this point the pressure was intense, I leaned against an exercise ball on my knees. This was the most comfortable position for the pressure. I was still able to talk and laugh between the contractions. The ladies brought all the supplies in, which I had no idea would be so much. My bedroom soon looked like a birthing room, it was comforting and perfect. Michelle checked my vitals and gave me a long Q-tip looking thing to check if the leaking fluid was from the bag, and it indeed was. I asked her to check me, and I don't quite remember what she said, but she did tell us to go ahead and let the photographer (this being my best friend, Ashley) know she should nurse her babies and leave sometime soon. I believe Ashley arrived around 7. 

Lauren was rubbing my back and applying counter pressure during contractions. She was awesome, and helped so much. The counter pressure was incredibly helpful. I tried sitting on the birthing ball in the shower since the pool wasn't blown up yet. I did not like sitting, it was awful, so I asked Travis to get in with me and hold me up during contractions. I remember telling him in the shower that the contractions were painful but was sure I had a long time to go since they felt nothing like labor with Isla. The shower was the most comfortable place. I would hold Travis' shoulders or forearms, bend my knees, and dig my head into his chest. We got out and let Michelle check me again, 7cm this time and Emmeline was engaged and ready to make an entrance once my cervix fully dilated.

Emme was born on Cinco de Mayo. Everyone thought this was funny.
I'm not sure I knew what was happening.

 Michelle knew we were close and asked me if I still wanted the pool blown up. The pressure was now very intense, and I could feel she was engaged and I was entering transition. I got in the pool, probably spent about 20 minutes in there at most, and wanted to get out and checked again. I was ready to go, fully dilated, but still not feeling the urge to push. I never felt the urge with Isla either. Michelle assured me I could push whenever I felt like it, so I did. I went from the bed, to the floor squatting, and back to the bed. It is somewhat a blur, but I remember asking Michelle about a million times if she was sure she saw her coming, and told her I was scared. I told her how painful it was, and that I couldn't do it. I remember looking at Michelle at one point and feeling an overwhelming sense of safety and comfort. She gave me a reassuring look. I believe it was when I told her I was scared and she responded saying "I know." I  now gave into my body, and was letting go of all fears and having this baby. I think Michelle knew I was dealing with PTSD from my last birth, even more than I knew I was. I honestly didn't realize I had such an issue until I found out I was pregnant again, but the birth, even though I was prepared, brought about triggers at certain points, especially while pushing. Everyone around me was very encouraging. Michelle was telling me how close I was and focused on informing me when to push or not to push to avoid tearing. Ashley and Lauren reminded me that everything was okay, she was coming, they could see her, and encouraged me during pushing. Travis sat beside me during pushing and helped coach my breathing. I pushed for an hour and a half and she was born at 10:31pm. Michelle placed her on my chest immediately. She soon began examining Emmeline and gave her oxygen because her levels were a little low, and she was coughing up fluid. I watched the oxygen monitor and soon felt much relief when the levels started rising. She was okay, I was okay, all was perfect.

My girls meeting for the first time

My parents soon arrived with Isla. She made comments like "she came out of your belly," "she was born," "she has fingers," "she has eyes," "she has a nose," and I could go on. It was precious. I couldn't hold back the tears at this point, We were all together, my baby girls, and all was well. Emmeline and I took a relaxing herb bath then went back to the bed to nurse. Michelle, Mary, and Lauren stayed for hours after the birth to check on Emmeline and myself. I sat in the bed trying to nurse Emmeline in disbelief that she was here and everything was so peaceful. I wasn't stressed, instead I felt loved and cared for. These ladies around me genuinely cared. I felt it the entire time I was in labor and during the birth. Absolutely incredible. Childbirth is beyond personal, it's vulnerable, and can feel overwhelmingly empowering. With Isla, I felt defeated. I had a drug free birth like I desired, she was healthy, but I was bullied and treated like a sick patient during the birth. With Emmeline, I felt safe and loved. The faces around me were comforting.

Herb bath

I believe this may have been about the 3rd time Emme pooped on Michelle. 

8 lbs

I consider Michelle a friend. She has encouraged me beyond what is to be expected from a midwife. I opened up to her about everything during pregnancy, and she reassured me as many times as I needed. Michelle is an incredible midwife, one who listens, provides, and takes safety seriously. I trust her, and I chose her because she was exactly what I needed to have a positive birth experience and heal. Thanks to her, I had no tearing. After Isla's birth I couldn't stand without serious pain. I could hardly hold my baby, especially not while standing. Thinking back to postpartum with Isla, negative memories of pain and concern flood my mind. This time I felt as normal as one can feel after birth. I didn't feel that pain, and healing was easy. I felt so great that I didn't listen to Michelle and did laundry and didn't rest like I should have. I soon regretted that when the bleeding worsened, but I felt okay, and that was awesome. Only happy tears ran after Emme's birth. :)

Everyone watching Emme get examined

I must thank the ladies who provided support throughout my pregnancy. Thank you Michelle Ray, Leigh Anne Hancock, Alicia Fox, and Ashley Macco for the talks, e-mails, and encouraging words.

Teddy

 

Almost eight years ago I received the gift of a little black
and white puppy. He was the cutest, softest, sweetest little guy. I named him
Teddy. It seemed fitting, he was as cute and soft as a teddy bear, and over the
years became my safety blanket and companion. He moved and traveled with me
everywhere I went. We moved a total of seven times during his lifetime. I spent
years in cities that were quite unfamiliar. At some points I didn’t have anyone
but him, but at all points I didn’t have much of anyone but him. I felt nervous
at night staying alone, but he brought comfort. I knew he would bark if he
heard anything, although he would also bark at nothing. His kisses and cuddles
brought joy when life contained heartbreak or loneliness. It became difficult
to feel homesick because he became my home. We went for long walks several
times a day. He taught me just how much I love the feel of salty warm air
during the night. We swam in the bay, ocean, and creeks. He would chase a stick
or ball, and felt little fear of the waves. I’d let him off the leash on the
beach and he would run like mad as fast as he could, and for some reason loved
to dig his face into the sand covering his nose and lips. I taught him how to
go down the slide at out apartment complex. He would climb up by himself and
slide down. We took eight hour car rides from FL to TN many times. He refused
to sit anywhere but the driver’s side. I never minded.

 

 

Teddy loved me dearly. He was full of endless love and fun.
I’ll never forget how he would dig under the covers making the funniest sound,
or how he stood his legs on me to give hugs and kisses. I would tire of
throwing the ball, but he would demand by repeatedly putting the ball closer
and closer to me until I threw it. This was better than the occasional sticking
the ball under something so I had to get it out. He would nudge and bark loudly
until I got the ball for him. He was young at heart, this never changed.

 

 

 

After meeting Travis we learned Teddy had a very protective
side. I will never know if this was simply natural or a response from my fears
living alone. I’ve always had a feeling that it was a learned behavior. He
tried attacking Travis when he would step near me and Teddy was beside me. This
only happened if we were both sitting or lying down. He succeeded a few times
in actually attacking Travis, sometimes leaving marks or drawing blood. He did
this to my dad as well. He was always protecting me. After some time he would
attack your feet if you stepped too close to him while he was sleeping. We
noticed quickly that he did not like children. They made him feel uneasy, and
he would become nervous if one came near while indoors. He was pretty much fine
with anyone outdoors, not sure he ever attacked anyone outside. I became very
nervous when we discovered we were having a baby. I talked to my veterinarian
and a few dog trainers. I was not sure what would happen, but obviously taking
risks was not a possibility. Teddy stayed separated from Isla at all times.
This was easier when she was little, but once she started walking around it
became sad. We had to lock him up behind a gate or keep him outside. He would
bark continuously sometimes, not understanding why he could not be with us. If
Isla stepped near the gate he would growl, or if she walked by the window when
he was outside he would attack the door. When we found out about baby number
two we knew something had to happen. Teddy could not live behind a gate. I
hated who I was with him, always shushing him, or locking him up. We tried
several things, even giving him to another couple. This did not work out
either. I think a lot, and I like to find solutions that work best for everyone,
and I tried so hard in this case, but I knew there were no safe options within
my home with my children. There would always be a risk, always. I felt odd
telling Isla to watch out when she would walk towards the dog gate or when she
would get down from the couch and Teddy was in the room. He was something she
had to fear, and no child should have anything or anyone in their home they
have to fear. I believe this more than anything.

This last week I struggled with how I would do this. I had
to, I would, but how? I’m great at repressing things, but those things in life
normally happened to me, not me taking action to do them. This was different.
Teddy was such a huge part of my life, beyond what I can explain to anyone. I
am guilty of not loving him enough these last years, and feeling frustrated,
and angry towards him. I could have never imagined this before. I feared something
happening to him. I honestly looked up if GPS chips or tags existed for dogs
because losing him would have been so awful. Travis told me over the years that
I had an irrational mindset of how long Teddy would live. I searched forever
trying to find a place to keep him during my wedding and honeymoon. I left him
at a place with camera I could log into, a tv playing animal planet in his
kennel, and made sure he got a space where he could access the outside. I
remember crying like a baby leaving him there and logging in to see him during
the trip. So, how did I get here? It must be maternal instinct, there is no
other way it could have happened. You think you could never put your dog
second, that they will stay right up there in the number one spot with your
children, but it doesn’t happen. I felt somewhat strong until Tuesday, knowing
what would happen the next day. I want to protect the child in my belly and not
get too upset, and I thought somehow I could block it out and just deal. I
would do it, just deal. Wednesday I kept myself busy. Travis took off work, we
played with Isla and the dogs outside, and I cleaned out under my bathroom sink.
I’ve been trying to rest, but it couldn’t happen Wednesday. It happened, and he
is gone. I have repeated to myself that it was the right thing to do. I had our
incredibly kind veterinarian come to the house to make it easier on him and us.
She explained that he would know nothing but our love, and this is true, but it
has lacked over the years, and I could have done better. I did love him. He
will always be incredibly special to me. I stayed mostly strong until Wednesday
night when I had nothing to distract me other than the baby moving in my belly.
I lost it. I’m losing it now, and I’m scared I won’t find peace. Yes, I was
protecting my children, and time will likely heal, but this feeling of cutting his
life short, probably in half, is awful, because he loved life.  I keep thinking there is something else I
could have done, or maybe this was simply wrong. I somehow justified it until
this point, but those thoughts are clouded by sadness and memories, and the
feeling of doing what I feared most happening for so many years. I’m absolutely
heartbroken. I don’t want sympathy, I know it will become bearable, but it’s
awful right now. At first I thought I would write and share this for anyone
going through the same thing, like it could provide support or comfort. Maybe
it could provide a place to not feel alone, but the comfort part is reaching. I
have always written when feeling sad or angry. I’m not one to reach out really,
so this is my sharing and healing. If you’re a praying person, I ask for
prayers. If you’re a friend, I ask for distractions. I pray for friends and
family all the time. I believe it works, and I believe it can be comforting
knowing people are praying for you, but there are some things that simply suck
and this is one of them. There will always be pain associated with it, but I
must be okay, I must move on to this next chapter without the pain I currently
feel in my chest. Thank you everyone for reading and for those who have reached
out.