Labor of Love: One Week Out

I’m thinking that it will take me a very long time to type out the story of Ellie’s birth. It’s really her story.  It’s a beautiful story. I love it, I love everything about it. You know why? Because at the end of it, there is a beautiful baby girl, one who is lying next to me in a pink blanket with little whales on it.

Ellie’s birth story starts on a Tuesday, June 17, the day I was supposed to go to my last day at work before leave. Instead, that morning I called and said that there was a chance I might be in labor and that it would probably be best if I didn’t go in that day. I made the right choice. I won’t go over all the details, because I’ve already talked about all that. As embarrassing as it was to have to send my midwife and birth team home not once but twice, I think this is where I mentally, took a turn for the worse.

Thursday and Friday I did everything and anything to take my mind off of the fact that this week I’d had those contractions and that it had all happened. I was trying to remind myself that labor takes a long time that it could still be weeks before I actually had my baby, that it was all good. I went for walks, I played in the pool, ate talked laughed, hung out with friends. I tried very hard to tell myself that she was not coming this week, that it would take a long time that I needed to be patient. I prayed. I hung out. I felt huge. I felt like I was on the edge of something that I couldn’t explain.

So. Saturday. I woke up a little while after Blair left for work and sat on the edge of the bed. I got up, used the bathroom, came back, and there was this wet mark on the bed. And I thought to myself “I’m pretty sure I didn’t wet the bed…” I knew that this could be my water, but was unsure. And I didn’t want to sound the alarm again without it being the real deal (this would be a common theme throughout the day, and I believe some part of the reason we ended up transferring, but we’ll get to that). I took a walk with my mother in law, found out my best friend in Va Beach who was ALSO VERY pregnant was being induced, and walked back home. Once we got back home, I started to pray for my friend, and tried desperately to ignore the contractions.

I couldn’t ignore them anymore. My wonderful mother in law helped me upstairs, made sure I was ok, I called Blair, and my mom and asked them to come. I did NOT want to call my midwife yet though. I did not want to call the fairy godmother. I felt like people had already been here so much that I didn’t want them to come unless, you know, my body was truly in labor.

When Blair came home, and my mom got here, they made the choice to call my midwife. She was on her way. We called the fairy godmother. We walked, and stood, and rocked, and the contractions got closer and stronger and more intense. By late that evening, I really truly felt like my body was ready to push. We began trying different positions that encouraged baby to head down. We worked at this for what seemed like a long time to me. I was getting so tired. And I was so ready to meet our girl.

But. Around nine (I think? I could be wrong, time stopped working for me after a while) we took a break and did a vaginal check to see where I was. What this check told us was very revealing.

I was still only 5 centimeters. I was not dilated enough for pushing to do much. And this is where my story goes from “home to hospital.”

We were given options. Go now just to make sure baby and I were alright or go to sleep and see what happens in the morning. Everyone left the room and I looked at Blair. I still wasn’t sure what we should do. We prayed together and decided to go to bed. Ameh left, the midwives left, and my mom went to sleep out on the couch (she said couldn’t leave). Before leaving, my midwife prayed with me and gave me some Benadryl to help me sleep.

I couldn’t sleep though. Normally that stuff knocks me out (ask Teri from camp…I had some once while we were out craft shopping…it was very special) but this time, it didn’t. I was up all the time because of contractions and they hurt. I would get up with them, pee, come back, try to sleep, I would try to be quiet through them, but would always whimper and wake Blair up. He tried to help, applied counter pressure in my back, but absolutely nothing helped.

At this point, mentally, I was a little out of it. I had called people there, sent them away, labored, bore down, changed positions, all of it. But as far as I knew, I was still only at five, and no one could explain why that was. So…sad to say, I kinda freaked out. That last time, I woke Blair up and said “We need to go, we need to go now.” He called the midwife to let her know, I started to pack things, realizing I had NO idea what you needed to bring to a hospital. I went out to ask my mom, and out there with her, I cried. I didn’t understand why my contractions weren’t doing anything, I didn’t understand what was taking so long, and I was convinced something was wrong with my baby.

I threw stuff in a bag and off we went. We followed behind my mom who, according to my husband, did not go the right way and drove to slow. While in the car, I had these intense contractions…I would roll down the window and try to remember to breathe. Blair was my rock. He told me that no matter what, all that mattered was Ellie and I were ok.

Once we were at the ER, I was wheeled back to labor and delivery. They had already been informed of my situation and they gave me a gown and asked to do a cervical check. When they checked me, I was at 7 cm. Every now and again I give Blair these “What in the world faces?” and I know at that point I gave him one. I did NOT think that anything had happened, in my panicked brain, nothing would have happened. So, they admitted me.

I have to say, the people at the hospital were amazing. They listened so well to everything that I wanted. I basically had the same kind of birth I would have had at home, the only difference was that they broke my water around four am, I believe.

Labor picked up hardcore for me after that. And even allowing them to break my water was a huge leap of Faith for me. I had always intended to let things happen naturally. When they asked if they could, I looked to my husband and my mom for their strength to make a choice, and they loaned it to me. I held their hands while it happened, asking Blair with my eyes if we were doing the right thing. I know it does not seem like much, to allow someone to break your water, but for me, as I said, leap of faith. He really comforted me, told me that we had done the right thing.

We had. After that, it was like my body kick started. Even though I was so so so tired, I knew that she was coming soon, this time for real. I could feel the contractions build, could feel myself getting ready. I knew that the work was just beginning. Right before a contraction I would get really cold and pull the covers up, but then I would get hot with the contractions and throw them off! I held Blair’s hands and my mom’s, if either of them left me, I called them back. In between, I let my body go limp and I would sleep for however long I could.

I’m not sure when things changed or how they changed, but they did. And I was ready. I would wake up and bellow through contractions. I’m not sure how much time the doctor had to actually get “Set up” I know I didn’t want to wait for her though. I did what my body was telling me to do, I pushed. It was intense.

I felt her. I felt her move through my body, I felt her crown, I felt her head pass through, and I felt her slide between my legs and the next thing I know there is this tiny human right on my chest in all her grossness. It was beautiful and wonderful and everything I ever wanted.

I don’t remember a lot of things, which is why I’m glad Ameh was there taking pictures. I remember feeling like there was no way I could make this happen. I remember being at home lying in bed begging God to help me. I remember looking at Blair and seeing strength there. And I remember this incredible sense of euphoria when she was there on my chest. This beautiful beautiful baby…our gift for just a little while.

God is good. I know I said that. I know I thanked him. I know I forgot that I still had to push to get my placenta out. Blair reminded me of that a few times. I vaguely saw my mom and Ameh hugging and crying. I kept looking at my baby and then at Blair.

Three years ago…I never would have thought I would be here. I never thought that I would be married, never thought that I would have a daughter (I HAVE A FOR REAL BABY, WHAT!?), I didn’t think that I deserved it. Let me rephrase this, I don’t deserve it. I am blessed. Terribly and wondrously blessed. I am so incredibly thankful for this gift.

Eleanor was 7 pounds 2.5 ounces, 19 ½ inches, she was born at 6:28 AM on June 22, 2014. She is beautiful. She is amazing. She is already incredibly goofy and makes some of the best faces I’ve ever seen.

In the past week I have fallen so deeply in love with her, that I’ve fallen in love with God all over again and with Blair. He comes home from work and we are the first people he has to see. He’s had to work so much…but each night he comes home, no matter how tired he is, he holds his baby. He talks to her, he asks for pictures while he’s away. He is wonderful. He was so strong for me…and even though people have told me I was strong, I didn’t feel that wat though.

It took me a hot minute to be ok with the fact that we transferred. At the time I wasn’t upset about it. Most days I’m not upset about it, the hospital did a great job of making me feel like I was in charge of my daughters birth story. However…I’m sad that Doran didn’t get to greet Ellie first thing, it was stressful thinking about how we are going to pay that bill, and it wasn’t what I wanted. But what I want and what I actually get are different things, and I got my precious baby girl. Transferring, this time, was the right thing for me. Mentally, I think it helped me let a lot. I would still want a home birth; it’s a dream that I am going to fulfill one day. I know this. In reality I don’t feel that I failed or did something wrong. I did what I thought I needed to do for me and my baby.

She’s here in my lap right now. Snoozing away. Being perfect. Being wonderful. Just being.

I’m amazed at what God has done in our lives. I’m amazed at this little girl. And in the past week, I have come to know what a mother’s fierce love is. And she’s beautiful. She’s just absolutely beautiful. 

Ready...Set...AND NOPE

I’ve been contemplating the best way to start this blog post. I considered telling everyone that Blair gave birth today at three pm to a beautiful litter of puppies. Or telling everyone Ellie was here, we just decided to ship her to a different family and I was going to keep a water melon up my shirt. It’s late, I’m getting sleepy, but I’m trying to process my life as of the past two days.

Basically, here’s the skinny, I thought I was in labor. My body thought it was in labor. My body had some awesome contractions, I lost lots of mucus, and I got a great feel for what labor might feel like. But the real question is, what was really happening?

Just like my body is not so great at being pregnant, I’m not so sure it’s good at being in labor. It has no idea what’s going on, and so yesterday and today it was like, “Let’s be cray-cray.”

I feel foolish. I feel crazy, for not knowing what’s happening with my own body. I feel silly for calling my midwife here, not once, but twice, and for having my mom here and the Fairy godmother. I know that they all love me, I know that no one blames me, they are all incredibly supportive, but still. It made me feel very silly.

After trying lots of different things today and walking up a hill while having some awesome contractions and some other things, we decided to all go home. Maybe this is just my body preparing. Maybe something more will happen, maybe it won’t. Maybe my water will break, maybe it won’t. Maybe I’ll have more contractions, maybe I won’t. (That never did happen, and I’m glad, even though a few times I was just praying that ANYTHING would happen.) Truth is, we don’t know, can’t predict, and aren’t trying to. I love my midwife is so supportive, I love that my mom and best friend are completely not mad, and I love love love my husband.

He’s been amazing. You all have absolutely no idea. He was fantastic during some of the really hard contractions, and knew what I was saying when I couldn’t really talk. He worked just as hard as I did and even forced me to get up and do some things that he knew would help. After we sent our team home, he kinda got a little sad. I didn’t realize how much he was looking forward to seeing our baby girl.

I might go into hiding for a while. After everyone went home, I took a nap, relaxed, chilled. Woke up. Blair didn’t quite know what to do with himself and neither did I. So we went to see a movie. We drove for a while. My body has calmed down a lot. We are content in our waiting.

Please be patient with us. And know that this embarrassed me beyond belief. My ENTIRE family thought I was in labor. And a couple of friends.

So this is just another chapter in our pregnancy story. My crazy child doesn’t know what the crap she’s doing, neither do I.

We ended the night with burgers, Blair with a root beer float, and laughing while we threw fries out the window. We’re gonna snuggle and go to bed. As I’ve said before, I promise that when there IS  legit baby and not just a watermelon seed one I’ve eaten, people will know.

All in God’s timing ok? We’re still gonna wait, so you all will have to as well. J

Love,
Maddie and Blair 

Care With A Midwife

Recently, I've received a lot of questions about what Midwife care looks like. How it works, what happens when I go, that sort of thing. So I decided to take a small visual journey and show you all how my midwife works (with her permission of course! She loves my blog...:) )

I once wrote a post about how I got to take pictures and witness a birth, and I wrote about how awesome it was. I would link you to it, but internet here is not so fun, plus there's a storm. My midwife was the midwife that attended and helped that Momma in her journey. I loved watching her work. It was exciting and I agreed and loved all the choices she made for that Momma. I knew that one day, hopefully, Lord Willing, I would have her as my midwife.

Well, the Lord was willing, even last June when we found out we were pregnant the first time. Doran saw me through one of the worst times in my life. She sent me encouragement and love, and that is something that I will forever be thankful for. When we found out we were pregnant the second time, I felt that I could confess my fears to her without being judged. When I got sick and couldn't eat, she was nothing but loving and encouraging through that as well.

Me at our 38 week appointment! 

Doran is a CPM, Certified Professional Midwife and her practice is called Blessings Gods Way. She works out of Strasburg Virginia and has an adorable yellow cottage where she serves woman. Her website is incredible and can explain a lot of the questions that anyone might have.

I love visiting her. I love seeing her smiling face, knowing she's not only excited but that she already loves my little one, me, and my husband. Her cottage is warm and inviting and it always smells good.

Every time I visit Doran, I pee in a cup. I take a test strip and test that, and we look at it. The cool thing (for me at least) is that we look at it together. Together.  I like that I got to learn what the colors were telling me. I knew what was happening and I got to take part in it. That's neat.

The next thing we do, is we talk. I sit on her glorious comfy bed provided for us Momma's, and we just chat. How have things been going? How do I feel? Have I been swelling? How much water am I drinking? Do I have any questions? What's going on this week? I ask her about birth stories I've heard, I tell her how my toes only swell rarely and how I drink tons of water. I tell her about my family all coming in for the weekend, and she reminds me that I need to take it easy and rest when I'm tired. Another neat thing about it all, is that I an bring friends and family. My mother in law, Mommy, and two of my wonderful sister in laws got to come to appointments with me. My very best friend, birth photographer, and Ellie's Godmother were at our 36 week home appointment. Special people who uplift me and love me. 

She records all of my information in charts. 

Her assistant Jodi, they found out about this post and needed to "look like they were doing something", even though they always do!

Usually after chatting for a bit and writing down any information that's needed, they take my blood pressure and check my pulse. I think maybe there was ONE time that I had a high blood pressure, and immediately Doran said "Some one's a little riled up today, everything ok?" She was checking on me. Wanted to know if there was anything going on. At that time, there was, however, this has been resolved and my blood pressure has returned to what it is normally for me.

After those things are all taken care of, we move on to checking my fundal height with our little owl friend.

Fundal height measures how big my uterus is, to make sure that little booger is growing about where she needs to be.

After that is recorded, we listen to Lil Girl! When she's real little, we listen with a Doppler, but as she's bigger now, we listen with a fetal-scope. I love this part, even though my lil girl likes to hide from Doran. It's like she gets shy around her, which is silly, because the woman will be helping Blair catch her.

This part is really neat because once we find her little heartbeat, everyone gets to listen to her, they want. Angela and Karynne, my brother's wives, both got to hear Ellie's heartbeat, even though it can be a little tricky, and Ellie's Meme, my mother in law, got to hear it as well. And of course, I get to hear her as well, which always makes me smile a little.

So that is what an appointment looks like! We spend time together and I love it. I don't feel like it's impersonal or like she doesn't know me. Doran is not only my midwife and a professional, but she's my friend. She makes me feel calm and we have a lot of the same values. She serves the same God I do. That alone makes us sisters in Christ, which means a lot to me.

I've been asked when I'm supposed to call her, as in, what do I do when I go in to labor. Basically, I keep her informed. I've tried very hard to be in tune with my body, and nothing feels like something is too small to tell her. Even the other day I was kinda sorta unsure about something but needed to tell her anyways, and she was perfectly fine with it. Fun fact: I talk with her over Facebook chat. We're facebook friends. It's real life. :)

If my water breaks or my contractions become more intense and consistent, it's time to call her. I let her know about things like my mucus discharge (it happens while you're pregnant, just saying) and how I feel. We talk about lots of things, and sometimes she has to ask me awkward questions that most other people wouldn't ask. My favorite was when my sisters in law WERE at our appointment and she needed to know if um Blair and I...well...if we had happy fun times. It was awesome! But she needed to know, so she asked. We're close like that.

I also have this awesome sheet tacked to one of our bulletin boards called "What to do if Mom needs to push and the midwife isn't there yet". It kinda makes me smile a whole lot. HOPEFULLY and I'm sure this won't happen she'll be there in plenty of time to help me bring Ellie to this world.

I'm a huge advocate for women feeling empowered and comfortable where and how they birth. One more time for those who missed that:

I'M A HUGE ADVOCATE FOR WOMEN FEELING EMPOWERED AND COMFORTABLE WHERE AND HOW THEY GIVE BIRTH. 

For us, this means that we don't want to be at a hospital. I don't want to be hooked to IV's, have nurses constantly in and out of my room, be in some other persons gown, or to be restricted in any way. I want to be free to move. I want to be in my own room, in my own house, with my own people. That is what makes me comfortable. If a woman chooses differently, if the thought of having a home birth freaks them out, you won't be comfortable during labor, and that's no good friends. However, I wish more woman were truly educated, knew their rights, and fought for them. I also wish that birth and labor were less shrouded in fear and selfishness, but that is a whole other post. 

For me to feel comfortable  to have a baby, this what we chose. Luckily, God has made a way for that to happen. We've been incredibly blessed to be able to pay our midwife and to continue in her care. For a while, I was scared that HG would send me straight to an OB and the hospital. With God's grace, a supportive husband, and an incredibly midwife, who saw me through a rough pregnancy. 

So that's midwifery care. That's how things are done. If you ever have questions, feel free to ask and I'll answer to the best of knowledge, or ask Doran the next time I see her. :) 

And Doran, feel free to comment with anything that I missed! Blair and I love you, and are thankful for your service in helping bring Miss Ellie into this world soon! And you too Jodi! 

A Little Slice of God's Art

I recently started to think about the title of my blog. GodArt. I've come a long way from where I used to be, and what I used to write about.

I am still finding all the beautiful things that are worth writing about. People who support and love my husband and I, births that I've attended, people who've encouraged me, photographs of people that mean more to me than gold. I like to find the beauty of God's art in all things, not just some of them. While sometimes, this is hard (I recall my miscarriage and the start of my HG pregnancy) many times there are beautiful things that I am involved in (recall the births I've attended, that time I married my best friend, or when I met an amazing couple that encouraged Blair and I).

Life is a beautiful thing. The more I grow in my Walk, the more I get the option to see some truly beautiful things. Hard things, sad things, but absolutely beautiful things. Which brings us to today's post.

I was recently able to go see a family that has come to mean a lot to me. It's not for the best of reasons according to the standards of this world, but to me, it was beautiful.

I met this family by accident on Doughnut Day. They had three little girls and as I talked to them more, I realized that their Momma was pregnant with their fourth baby. Later that year, after we became fast friends, she gave birth to their fourth daughter. Since then, they have had to move, we have had to move, but we've kept in contact. That person who told me that not enjoying my pregnancy did not make mean I loved my baby less? That was her. She made me two butterflies that are on my fridge and held my hand 8 days after I lost Cara, while I asked God to hold the baby that I would never get to. Her friendship and encouragement mean a lot to me.

Earlier this year, they announced that they were expecting again. I was thrilled for her. To me, babies are babies man. If you want 8, go for it. If you want 1, go for it. If you wait four years or however long to have babies, that is fine with me! Your uterus doesn't affect me, but when you tell me you are pregnant, be prepared, I will be excited for you.

Not long ago, this friend called me after work with some news. Some devastating, earth shattering, life changing news. Her baby, that we all already loved, had passed away. I cried for her and with her. I kept my phone on and told her I was there when she needed me. I prayed and questioned, because I don't understand sometimes how God allows these things to happen, however, He assures me that I don't need the answers.

That Saturday after I was told, I took a drive down to see her. We talked, laughed, played with her girls, and then I was given an incredible privilege as a photographer and as a friend to take pictures of her pregnancy.

It was a humbling thing. To realize that these pictures are some of the only memories that she will get to have of what we found out later was her Daughter, who's name is Ambrosia Amore, meaning Eternal Love. It made my heart happy to be able to be able to give her this gift, while at the same time, these photographs make me want to weep.

I will not understand God's plan all the time. I've learned this. The beauty of that though, is not that He promised that we wouldn't understand, but that He would walk through with us.

I was given permission to share this story, and to share these pictures. Please join me in continuing to pray for this little family and to rejoice in their faith, strength, and love.