Before Millie
I was afraid of birth. I had been for a long, long time. When we had premarital counseling, I was confronted with the fear and for the first time began to fight it. My desires changed by the grace of God so I would want what He wanted. Over time, I realized “I Surrender All” does not have an asterisk to exclude my fertility.
In the process of learning this, while still naturally preventing, we had a surprise ectopic pregnancy in late 2020. We had only known I was pregnant for a day and a half before the loss. The diagnosis and treatment followed in the next few days. What a weekend. We quickly got pregnant again in early 2021, not ectopic, but again lost around six weeks. It was bittersweet– two ectopics in a row might’ve meant surgery, so we were happy it was not, but still saddened by another tiny lost child. And then we waited. I didn’t get pregnant again for nearly a year.
Pregnancy
We found out we were pregnant on a busy week. This time, I kept it quiet in hopes I could tell my family with confidence that I had rising HCG numbers, the telltale sign for my previous losses. We were so excited to share with the new grandparents! But I still had work to do in my mind and heart to prepare to face my fears of birth.
I started reading every free internet source I could. Every good birth story I could find. I looked for similarities. I found that the best results tended to come from natural births. Many were recommending the same book, Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth. I grabbed that too. The common thread of traumatic births, from what I was reading at the time, was unnecessary interventions in the hospital. Some were outdated by the time I read them, but it drove me to want to transfer to the Birth Center.
In the meantime, my baby girl’s anatomy scan showed her left spinal fluid ventricle was on the edge between normal size and too small. She needed extra ultrasounds to monitor this. After the first extra ultrasound, they took us to a quiet room and said they also thought she might have two extra toes, smack in the middle under her normal five. With the brain near-abnormality, would I even be able to go to the birth center? I knew they only took normal-risk births.
The specialty ultrasound people cleared my baby of suspected risk and gave their blessing for me to go to the birth center. I was 34 weeks along now. I called to transfer and learned that, by the grace of God, I was not a moment too soon. 34 weeks is the last chance to transfer over.
I was excited to be in an environment I felt safer at. The birth center felt inviting. I felt like we were on the same page. Somehow, I went from fear of birth’s pain, stitches, and the unknown, to going to a birth center! I kept praying for my birth and kept researching and preparing my body. I particularly prayed that I would leave with no stitches. I prayed that Yahweh would be clearly seen in my birth. Even if it wasn’t easy, that He would work through it. That Amelia would live up to her name, “work of Yahweh.” I prayed so often about the birth, I even more casually prayed that I would labor on a Friday because Fridays felt relaxing.
The Big Day
I woke up on my due date, a Friday, and I knew today was the day. I had light contractions. I hadn’t previously felt any at all. I put my research into practice with my husband and the contractions kicked up a little. By 9am, I knew for sure this was it. And we kept living life! I tied up things for work virtually, and we went out to lunch with my pastor and his wife. At one point she asked, “what’s that face you’re making? Are you contracting?” “Yep,” I answered, “I hope you’re free to meet the baby tomorrow.” I was happy to be in labor! We went home and I thought about more things I had researched. I grabbed my brand new pump and put it on, knowing nothing about pumping, but wanting to see if it would speed labor along. I had it on for 45 minutes and it felt like it did nothing… until my water broke as I was standing up from the couch! My water broke at 5:45. My husband had friends coming over at 6:00 to play Magic, a lengthy card game. I wanted the distraction, but man I probably scared those two non-dads for life! I played right along with them for a while, pausing to moan through a contraction every few minutes while Jason timed them. At 7:30, while the guys were still finishing up their game in the dining room, I called the midwives to see if I needed to go to the birth center, thinking I was ready. They wanted me to wait another hour. “An hour?!” I thought. An hour later I called back and the contractions were strong enough and frequent enough to make the phone call long and difficult. We headed out from there. In my head, I wanted to be at least 4cm. Surely the longest part was out of the way and the intensity was already arriving.
I got checked in and again God answered me– 4 cm along. Great! They also thought baby girl was OP still and needed to turn, so they had me do a circuit of positions to help, and it seemed it did! I needed more relief after that and used the shower on a birth ball, having Jason move the hot water onto my belly during contractions and my back between them. I came out of the shower and asked what was next for pain relief options, knowing I had few choices here. The midwives said I could get into the tub or I could try the nitrous oxide (laughing gas), which I had wanted to try. I chose the nitrous and got in bed. I quickly learned that I loved the high of the nitrous, partly because it felt like control in the midst of an intense and uncontrolled situation. But I also felt too dizzy to stand, much less to be in water. A little later, I heard the sound of someone giving birth in the room beside me, which had been empty on my arrival. There are only four rooms here and I was the only one When I checked in. The midwives assured me that it was her second baby, not to get jealous. At 12:30, I got another check– 7, almost 8cm. I was making great progress! After the check, I went into transition for half an hour, clutching the nitrous like a lifeline.
And then at 1am, a sensation hit me. Like uncontrolled outward push of a stomach bug. My mom saw my face and called the midwives, though I didn’t feel like a birth was eminent. The urgent sensation to push came with each contraction now. First we tried the birth stool and I made progress! Baby started to crown. Worried I would tear on the stool, the midwives moved me to the bed and we tried one position after another. We did rebozo supported positions, hands and knees of various angles, side lying, everything. Baby stayed in the little in, little out of crowning. The midwives informed me she was bald. The time ticked onward. We started to approach five hours pushing. Baby girls heart rate began to trouble the midwives and they quietly spoke to my family about transferring me. If I don’t give birth soon, I’d be getting a C-section at the hospital. I only heard the part about transferring and said firmly, “I’m staying.” So they heard my resolve and got me back on the birth stool. I knew I had to try with everything I had, and my body complied. Baby started to come! I thought to myself I was the closest to death I had ever been. With one last, long, loud push, out came her head and her body! Amelia was here! My little Millie. My mom and husband cried and I held my fragile girl tight. From “oh snap this is labor” at 9am Friday to holding Millie Saturday morning was 21 hours. Five hours of that was pushing.
With no strength left, I started to fall into the birth stool! The midwives helped me up and onto the bed. I counted Millie’s tiny toes. Ten. Her fourth toes were kinda crooked, twisting inward slightly; the most minor thing. That’s what the fuss was about on the ultrasound! After I birthed the placenta, they saw one spot that could use a stitch, but might heal fine on its own. I asked if they would leave it and they were agreeable with that. It did heal fine. I went from potential C-section to no stitches needed in minutes! Now that’s God at work. I later learned local hospital policy, though individual cases may vary slightly, is a maximum of four hours pushing before they bring out interventions I certainly didn’t want. The birth center allows as long as the baby tolerates. Another work of God that I could be at the birth center for this particular birth.
Postpartum
Breastfeeding was hard work. One mom, before I had Millie, told me it’s hard but it’s worth it. Don’t give up. Her words echoed in my ear as Millie refused to latch… for six weeks. And developed colic starting at three weeks that didn’t even begin to fade until six weeks. I exclusively hand expressed and then pumped those six weeks, and then we suddenly got the hang of it and breastfed for 20 months.
Six months postpartum, I go to a wedding. I meet a couple and their baby girl, Eleanor Rose. In exchanging small talk about the babies, we quickly realize that we gave birth the same night at the same place– she was the mom beside me! She laughed when I mentioned my brief jealousy and told me she had to stay a while after her birth and she heard me pushing for hours. She and her mom had been praying for me. God at work.