A little background....

I had my first son at home in June 03, it was a perfect straightforward homebirth and he was 8lb. When
I was pregnant for the 2nd time there was no reason to believe I was carrying a particularly big baby,
my midwife estimated he would be about 8 - 9lb. I measured normally throughout the pregnancy.

I had minor contractions for about 10 days prior to Jacobs due date, getting gradually stronger but
always disappearing by bedtime. I had stronger contractions all day the day after his due date which
were about 8 min apart – but not strong enough to worry me too much. I spent the afternoon at my
mum and dads, and this time the contractions didn't go away in the evening. I went to bed at about
11.30 still having mild contractions, and was woken by a 'proper' one at 12.30. Things stepped up a gear
then, with painful contractions coming every 5 min or so and Ian called the hospital for a midwife at about
1.10am, and my mum came round straight away to be on hand should Joseph wake up (he was 23mths).

Two midwives (Sue and Debbie) arrived at about 2am and Sue examined me – I was 5cm dilated with
bulging waters. I continued pacing the living room during contractions for a few hours, but they seemed
to go off slightly in intensity and spaced out a bit. I was examined again just before 6am and was 8cm
dilated but baby was slightly higher than he had been before. We discussed how long we would carry
on before considering transferring in to hospital, and decided that Sue would break my waters and we'd
give it an hour to see how things progressed. If we weren't getting anywhere by then we would think about transferring. My waters were broken at 6am, and while Sue was on the phone to the hospital to tell them
how I was doing at 6.15am Jacob suddenly moved down and started to make is way towards the exit! I
had an uncontrollable urge to push, and pushed and screamed my head off for 8 min until he was born. He
gave me a kick in the ribs as his head crowned! I had the syntometrine injection and my mum cut the cord
(my husband is far to squeamish). I had 2 stitches, and had only used a bit of gas & air between 5.45 and
 6.15.

His apgar scores were 8 and 9, and he weighed 11lb. The midwives couldn't believe he was so big, and
we had to check the scales were working by weighing a bag of flour! They were accurate and he was
indeed 11lb. Length of labour as written in my notes was 5hr 45min.

He was a 'dusky' colour all over which Sue was a little concerned about, and as it didn't improve in an hour
she wanted us to get the opinion of a paediatrician, so we transferred into hospital in an ambulance. I
wasn't particularly chuffed at this but of course wanted him to be checked out as the midwife was
concerned. Everything went rapidly downhill from there – once we arrived at the hospital Jacob was put
on oxygen and a drip in an incubator and there were concerns he may have a problem with his heart or
lungs, or an infection of some sort. He was started on antibiotics and was prodded and poked and
x-rayed and there was talk of sending him to Alder Hey for more investigations. I didn't get another
cuddle until about 12 hours later when I fed him with the oxygen thingy draped over my shoulder.

He spent 24hrs in the incubator but we didn't end up at Alder Hey and thankfully his heart and lungs
were fine. As it was a bank holiday weekend, his blood tests took longer to come back but were clear,
however it was decided to keep him on the antibiotics for a week. We spent the next 6 days on the
postnatal ward (thankfully in a side room of our own) while he had IV antibiotics, which we had to go
up to the scbu for every 8hrs. After having 7 cannulars inserted over 6 days, he just didn't have any
veins left for another so the antibiotics were stopped and we were allowed home.

Nothing was ever found to be wrong with him, it was eventually decided that it was just a touch of
shock after being born quickly after being so squished up because of his size.

His first week wasn't so great, but the birth was fantastic and I felt (and still feel) on top of the world
for achieving it.




10lb 1oz Sebastian's Birth By Kat Pond

 

I had been planning a homebirth throughout this pregnancy and it was the first thing I said to every health professional I came in contact with just to make sure there was no misunderstanding! I wanted to have
a homebirth because my other two deliveries were in hospital and on both occasions, there was a lot of
intervention. It’s not that I disliked the hospital – I found the staff very nice and accommodating – I just
wanted to experience what an active labour and natural delivery felt like in the comfort of my own home.
Not to mention the practicality of having two children to look after already, it seemed to make sense
being at home. My worst fear was labouring at home and then having to transfer during the labour or
post-birth.

 

When I went past my due date of Thursday 20th March 2008, I sunk into a terrible melancholy. Both
my other two babies had been born on their due dates with labours starting well before that so I was
feeling really fed up. I was also very frustrated by the regular Braxton Hicks contractions which were
actually quite painful. They came every night about ten minutes apart and every time I went to bed,
I woke up in the morning and then nothing had happened. I tried every trick in the book to get labour
started including hot curry, raspberry leaf tea and a long walk in the woods but nothing happened. On
Monday 24th March, I was hiding in bed as I couldn’t face getting up, having what I thought was
regular Braxton Hicks contractions (again) – it was only afterwards that I realised they were pre-labour
contractions. I didn’t have any of the pre-labour signs that I had with the other two. I ignored these
‘practise’ contractions for most of the day until about 3pm when I started to think that maybe
something was going to happen.

 

At this point, we decided to give the labour ward a call as instructed just to feel out the situation.
The receptionist took my details and said she would get in touch with the on-duty midwife who would
call me back. Julie called me back very quickly and we talked about my all day possible contractions.
She said she would come out and see me and check me and the baby over. When the two midwives
arrived, they checked baby’s heartbeat and my blood pressure etc and were happy that everything was
okay and was glad I called them out so they could see where I lived and work out where to park etc for
later on. I allowed one of the midwives to examine me internally but asked not to tell me how dilated I
was. When I was in labour with DD they told me I was only 3cm dilated and had at least another 7 hours
to go, however I delivered within 20 minutes after having begged for an epidural. It totally put me off and
made me realise that if that midwife had not told me about the timescale I would never have had the epidural.
So this time I didn’t want to know so would not be disappointed! It was funny watching the midwives
whispering to each other. I realise now that I was in labour at the time although then I didn’t know it.
One homebirth issue that arose unexpectedly was the midwife realising my history of Group B Strep
(GBS) with DD. She was quite panicked by it even though I had had a negative swab for GBS in this
pregnancy. I explained to her that I had done my research and made an informed decision based on
the facts I knew and she seemed to be okay with that.

 

After the midwives had left, I used a birth ball to relax and get comfortable between contractions. I
had something to eat and tried to get on with normal tasks. We put the kids to bed and tried to
concentrate on what was to come. One of the midwives from earlier came back to visit me at the end
of her shift to check baby and me over. We agreed that I would call back the labour ward when my
contractions were stronger lasting up to 60 seconds and regularly 5 minutes apart. DH and I timed
the contractions and when they were really regular and long and getting increasingly more painful we
rang the labour ward again who called out the midwife for me. I tried the TENS machine but this did
nothing for me and I took it off straight away. I did however manage to get a warm bath which was nice
and reminded me why I had wanted to labour at home.

 

This time Julie arrived about 9.45pm with all her equipment and I actually began to get quite excited.
She brought some gas and air canisters which I used straight away. We listened to some relaxing birth
music and I used what I had learned from the Hypnotherapy to breathe through each contraction. It
really helped and I’m convinced I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I did at home without the help of this
pain relief. I had one contraction where I forgot to do my relaxation technique and I literally jumped
5 feet off the sofa! Another midwife Suzie arrived about 11pm and it started to get quite cramped in
my living room. She examined me but not realising that I didn’t want to know ‘the results’ she inadvertently
told me that I was about 7cm dilated. However at this point it was promising news and I knew that my
baby was going to be born soon.

 

We had laid down an old PVC tablecloth and disposable waterproof mats on the carpet. We also set up
a borrowed birthing chair which I used to lean on during contractions. For the next few hours I walked
around, changed positions, did my breathing, used the gas and air and bounced on my ball. DH made
cups of tea and everything was going fine. However it became quite apparent that the contractions
were getting increasingly painful and I was struggling to cope with the pain. My chosen methods of pain
relief were doing nothing to help now and I started to panic a bit. I started to scream loudly during
contractions no longer worrying about what the neighbours might think! The midwives had to try and
calm me down and get me to breathe properly. Every time DH tried to make tea I would shout for him
to get back. I felt a bit lost without his supporting touch. Incidentally the children were sleeping through
all this upstairs. Having had epidurals with the other two I had no idea how excruciatingly painful labour
could be. It was a real shock to me and not what I was expecting at all. I naively thought that labouring
at home would be ‘easy’. At this point I was tired, frustrated and in agony with no light at the end of the
tunnel.

 

By about 2am, everyone was getting desperate. I give huge appreciation and admiration to my attending
midwives for sticking it through (even if it is their job) as they had no escape. I actually felt a bit sorry
for them to be honest. Eventually Julie very tentatively suggested that if things didn’t start to happen soon,
it might be time to consider calling an ambulance and transferring. I think this really spurred me on and I
asked if I could just have a few more minutes at home to see what happens. They suggested I try lying
on the floor on my side which was an incredibly painful position but it must have done the job because
immediately the contractions came one on top of the other and suddenly I felt the urge to push. Unfortunately
I was not in a good position lying on my back and was very uncomfortable but nature had taken its course
and the baby was going to come out. The midwives were clearly concerned and when it became apparent
that baby had his arm stuck by his head, there was a tense moment. They kept asking me to extend my
legs and I had no idea what this meant! Within minutes, baby was delivered onto me. I couldn’t even see
because I was stuck on my back and it was dark. I discovered what sex the baby was by feeling down
between his legs! I had wanted to deliver on all fours and catch the baby myself but although this didn’t
happen, I’m just happy he was delivered safely.

The third stage was a bit of a blur. It was so hectic that I forgot to say I didn’t want the umbilical cord cut until
after it had stopped pulsating so the midwives just got on with it and DH cut the cord. The midwife
recommended I have the injection to speed the delivery of the placenta since I was so exhausted and
because of this I agreed – it had been a long night. DH had the fun job of having to shine a torch into
my nether regions so the midwife could examine me; I don’t think he enjoyed being at the business end
of it.

 

I desperately wanted to sit up but found it really difficult to move. Eventually they got me up onto the sofa
so I could examine Sebastian and give him his first feed. The midwives were brilliant at clearing up
everything and they had a new surge of energy – cue more tea and cake! I didn’t need any stitches and
of course there was no further mention of transferring as mother and baby were well. They weighed him
(4.6kg) and did a few checks then stayed a bit longer to do paper work and check we were okay. I think
they left at about 4am after which DH and I called the relatives with the good news and went to bed.
The kids had slept all through this event and I knew they were going to be up in a couple of hours so
didn’t get much sleep. The best bit of the homebirth experience was the kids coming into our bedroom
and being introduced to Sebastian. They were so cool about it and took it in their stride and accepted
him into the family as if he’d always been there. I don’t think that would have happened if I’d be in hospital.
It was also lovely having my first bath in the comfort of my own home and having happy guests come to
visit and help out without the restrictions of visiting times and keeping the noise down etc.

 

In summary, having a homebirth was not the experience I thought it would be. It was really unglamorous,
painful and hard work and I didn’t particularly feel empowered or at one with the universe or anything fluffy
like that. However, I’m quite sure that had I have been in hospital the events would have unfolded very
differently probably with intervention, epidural and quite possibly c-section so I do feel incredibly proud
of myself that I did stick it through at home and pleased at how it turned out. I would still choose to have
a homebirth again and to recommend homebirth to others. I gave birth to a 10lbs 1oz baby with a hand up
his head without pain relief – I think that deserves a pat on the back!

 

Told by Kat Pond (June 2008)

 

 














10lb 10oz Irina's Birth By Heather Peet (Heather is from the USA)

I went about my day as gingerly as I could. I got up with the kids and ate breakfast. The contractions
still coming every ten minutes, but not intensifying. I took a luxurious 2 hour nap then had a long, hot
steamy shower. I blew out my hair. I did my make up. I put on my favorite maternity blouse. I was all
dressed for the occasion. I emailed, surfed, posted, and googled. I watched TV and updated my iPod.
Still contracting every ten minutes.

I called Tammi, my midwife, to let her know that things were happening... She said it all sounded
promising, that I should keep her posted. She reminded me that she is from upstate New York and
that snow and ice don't scare her. No matter the weather, she would be there when I needed her.

As I figured, the kids were cooped up all day and would be for the next few as well. I had gotten
some craft stuff together to give them something to do. We had a very large, poster sized piece of
paper and some paints. I sat Reilly Kate on one side of the paper and Roman on the other and told
them to paint a welcome sign for the baby. Roman painted an octopus in the sky and Reilly painted
a sky on the bottom. It turned out beautifully and after it dried a bit, I hung on the wall in the family
room so it would be one of the first things our baby saw when she did come out. I love it so much
that two months later it still hangs on our family room wall.

Mike called around 3 o'clock to say that he'd be gone about two more hours. I had actually planned
on him being home hours before, closer to 1pm. So when he said two more hours, I choked on my
shock, tears welling in my eyes. I was scared. The snow and ice had started up pretty heavily and
it wasn't going to stop. In fact, the forecast was that this night, this very night that my baby appeared
to be arriving, was going to be the worst winter storm of the season. .

I decided to lie down on the couch, thinking that perhaps if I laid down for a while the contractions
would cease. Mike walked in at 4:30 with a huge armload of firewood and a heart of optimism despite
a very long, stressful workday that didn't end as confidently as he had thought it should. He set to work
straight away to building a fire and readying the house for the arrival of our newest family member.
It was a bone chilling cold outside and it was starting to leak through into our house. In fact, I had
changed from my favorite maternity blouse into the enormous, hand knit Irish wool sweater that Mike's
mom had made him. I was that chilled. Mike built up a roaring fire (the best he'd done in his rookie year
of fire building) and piled the rest of the wood nearby so he could keep it going all night.

I made a few more phone calls to friends and family, to let them know tonight was the night. I noticed
that while on the phone, my contractions weren't quite as strong or frequent. It made me worry that
perhaps this was false labor yet again. I decided to quit the phone and use the computer instead and
sit on my birthing ball. I really, really did not want to see these contractions peter out. I was ready for
the baby and I felt she too was ready.

Everyone was insistent that I call my midwife again. My mom had been keeping track of my
contractions and they were coming a little more frequently, between 5 and 7 minutes apart. I called
Tammi up and gave her an update.

"Let me know when they get closer together," she said. She was going to call The Apprentice and
they'd come whenever I felt I was ready. The problem, as I saw it, was that I had no clue when I should
call her. I didn't know when I'd be ready. My first birth was a medically managed, albeit midwife attended,
pitocin induced labor. I didn't have to know when I was ready. I was told when I was ready. My second
labor was more natural, although labor was encouraged by daily membrane stripping. Once I thought I
was in labor, I was repeatedly told that it couldn't be active labor since my contractions weren't coming
regularly, I could talk through them, and my uterus just didn't feel hard enough during them. Thankfully,
Pat, my doula, is also a nurse and I talked her into checking me. She then told me I was not only ready,
but that birth was close at hand. Hence, although this was my third baby, this was my first all natural
labor and I had nothing and no one to tell me when I would be ready. It was all on me.

All I could do was tell Tammi that I would keep her abreast of my progress. We had to laugh at the
weather which had gotten so bad I could hear the ice whipping against the windows. The storm was
shaping up to be a real doozy. Mike got the kids ready for bed and we talked to them about the baby
coming. I asked them should they be sleeping when it was time for the baby to come out, if they
wanted us to wake them. Reilly Kate said yes. Roman said no. But they were both so excited we
told them that we'd wake them both. Reilly Kate didn't even want to go to sleep. She wanted to stay
up and help me. Even after Mike had tucked them in and said night prayers with them, Reilly Kate
stole downstairs for one last kiss to my belly. "I'll see you sometime tonight, baby," she said with
her head resting on my big bump.

With the kids ensconced in their beds, Mike and I settled on the couch for some mindless Tuesday
night prime time with my parents. My mom was still marking down my contraction times and the pain
was starting to get bad enough that I really had to focus. Her recording the time was starting to grate
on my nerves for some reason. When you're in pain, the weirdest things just bug you. Plus, I was starting
to get tired and despite the roaring fire and the thick Irish sweater, I was chilled. I felt feverish, which
was not a good thing.

I was getting agitated from it all. Mike suggested we go upstairs and lie down on our big, king sized bed.
Just the two of us. A rare occasion for we usually have at least one kid and a dog in there with us.
It sounded relaxing. So despite my feeling somewhat rude at just up and leaving my parents sitting in
the living room alone with the TV, I lumbered my way up the stairs and snuggled into spooning with
my hubby.

Mike wanted to call Tammi while I labored in the shower. He felt ready for her to come. As I walked
into the shower, he was picking up the phone. "Don't tell her to come right away. I'm not that close. I
could be at this all night long," I told him. Right after I slipped into the steamy world of my diminutive
shower, my uterus kicked it up a notch. The contractions started coming closer together, with each
and every one hitting hard. Before, I'd get a hard one and then three easy ones. Or two hard ones in
a row, with a string of easy ones after that. When I say easy, I mean so easy that at times I couldn't
tell I was having them -- like when I was talking on the phone I'd hardly notice them. But once I was
in that shower, they were all pretty serious. I leaned against the back wall, resting my arms on the
shelf, and let the water just hit my lower back. I started my mantra once again. Contract. Dilate.
Open. Out. Contract. Dilate. Open. Out.

It was nice to be there, in the shower, alone. Laboring, just me and my baby. I wrapped my arms
around my belly, as I had so many showers before, and whispered to her. Now is the time, I told her.
Now is the time. We're going to do this together. We were co-conspirators in this gig. I knew that
she must be in pain with the contractions bearing down on her wee body, compressing her fragile head.
And scared, too. The entire world, literally, opening up to her had to be unnerving. Thrusting her out
of the only home she knew: the safe warm haven of my womb. I patted what I thought was her bum
as I built up to another contraction.

I relinquished my shower sanctuary and toweled off, not dressing right away to allow my body to cool
and bring my body temperature down. Mike handed me the phone and I dialed Tammi. We talked in
between contractions. I didn't want to drag her out in this treacherous weather, away from her family,
and the comforts of her own home, to come over and watch me labor for hours and hours. Surely there
had to be better television. Tammi, on the other hand, didn't want to come over and have me feel
pressured by her presence. She wanted to honor my birth and give me my space. Typical women.
We didn't want to hurt or disrespect each other. Mike took the phone and after talking to him,
Tammi made the decision to come.

A sense of relief came over me. I hadn't realized how much I really wanted her to come now,
even if she wound up sleeping on my couch. Any sense of pressure or tension melted down my back
and dripped down my limbs. I felt relaxed despite the contractions. I took my temperature again and
it showed a completely normal 98.6.

I came downstairs dressed and ready for the night. It was about 10:30. I sat down and posted a
quick message to my online sisters, letting them know that my midwife and The Apprentice were
on their way and that shortly I'd be holding my new baby girl. I clicked POST and went into the
family room to settle into a birthing spot. My choice was on the floor, leaning into my glider rocker.

I worked through a contraction, rocking back and forth into the seat of the rocker. When it released
me, I looked around and saw my mom and Mike in a flurry of activities, tying up loose ends, getting
things organized, expending nervous energy. I rocked my way through a couple more contractions
and began to pray the rosary in between.
Up until this point, I wasn't in unmanageable pain. For those of you reading this that have never
been in labor, you probably hear the word "pain" and think unbearable, hideous, screaming banshee
pain. But it isn't like that. At least for me. It'd been almost enjoyable. Exciting. I was having a baby
and these contractions were the proof (okay, not that I really needed proof given the belly I was
sporting, but you know what I mean). It was a slow build, up to this point. And this is the point at
which things got hard, really damn hard.

I called out to Mike and like any husband when his wife is in labor, he raced nervously to my side
in seconds. nother contraction hit me and I instantly was transported into my own world -- that crazy
labor land where pain is the focus and thoughts the distraction. Where all that is going on around you
is plainly visible, but easily unseen. Where your inner voice is sane and reasonable, but your spoken
words are unintelligible and irrational. Labor land is really like no other. It is all fuzzy with crystals of
clarity. It is forgettable while spiked with fleeting and often indifferent moments seared into memory. It
is on a different plane entirely. I felt myself diving down, surfing toward, settling into that plane more
and more with every contraction.

Between contractions, I rested on the rocking chair, back swayed, belly hanging low. I could feel the
baby moving, making her way down toward the exit -- the entrance to the world that awaits her arrival.
I could feel her laboring her own way out. Again I was reminded that we were doing this together, the
two of us, the baby and I. I silently prayed that she not be in too much pain, that she not be too afraid,
that she know she wasn't alone in this, that she journey safely from that world into this.

As I dealt with contractions and the building fear that things were progressing too quickly for the arrival
of the midwives, my mom set up the camera, helped me take off my jeans, and put down some waterproof
pads to protect the carpet. Mike stoked the fire and rolled up our "fancy" Turkish rug from Korea. They
each took turns coming by during contractions to rub balls on my back (tennis balls! get your minds out
of the gutter for a moment, people!). My dad came by a couple of times before deciding to hightail it into
the basement with a book.

I repeatedly asked when Tammi would be arriving. Mike and my mom continued their whispering while
sounding completely calm and reassuring when talking to me. I've since learned that at this time my mom,
in a state of panic, thinking that she would have to catch the baby, took off all her rings. I'm not sure why.
Perhaps she thought that she would have to reach up and pull the baby out, inadvertently losing her rings
forever to the deep caverns of my reproductive organs. I guess even grannies do crazy things in the throws
of labor.

By the next time I cried out the woeful tale of my missing midwives, they were both pulling up into the
driveway, sans lattes. They hadn't stopped anywhere, coming straight to me, through the driving ice and
treacherous road slicks. They were brought to me, safely and soundly. Again, I felt the tension melt down,
relief pouring
through me. It couldn't be long at all now. With the midwives in attendance, I'd be pushing that wee one out
and be done with the misery of labor. Or so was my thinking... in labor land.

I worked through a few contractions standing up, my back swayed, supported by Mike, my head crooked
backwards around his shoulder. This would be my labor stance, either standing or kneeling, for the remaining duration of my labor. Despite Mike's own back problems, he was a great pillar of support. I leaned back on
him, pushing hard against him. He stood strong and tall, at times holding me up as my legs buckled under me.
He tirelessly cheered me on.

At one point in between contractions, I tried to feel inside to determine how far along I was, how much further
I had to go. My spelunkering turned up nothing. I couldn't feel a thing besides mush. It felt like the insides of
an overripe pumpkin, only warmer. Nothing that would give me any indication of impending birth. I laid down
so Tammi could cop a feel. She merrily announced I was just about completely done (as I’d been saying all
along, “I’m done. I’m done. I’m done.”). And there was much rejoicing. Additionally, she reported that my
water bag was bulging.

It was only a handful of contractions later that my water broke on its own. Nice and clear and beautiful.
A relief for me. Not just from the physical pressure I was feeling, but that the baby seemed to be handling
labor well and was healthy. Since she was a week past her due date (and by my inner clock, much later
than that even), I was a bit concerned about meconium in the amniotic fluid.

I was now at the pushing stage of labor. The pain was manageable. Pushing, while not exactly pleasurable,
is a pain that feels productive. It has a point that is tangible at that very moment. It is exhausting, but it is exhilarating as well. I was feeling a sharp, intense pain. Gone was the pressure and the horrible, evil
spinal flames. Despite the poop, this was the good part.

"She's coming," I whispered and gulped in a big breath. "Go get Roman."
My mom, followed by a happily skipping, totally delighted Reilly Kate, who, by the way, had been right up
next to the midwife with a flashlight pointed at my yoni try to catch a glimpse of her sister’s emerging head,
ran upstairs to retrieve the boy.

I heard Tammi ask Mike if he wanted to catch the baby. I had hoped that he would. What a story that would
have made! But he told her he just wasn't ready for that. Perhaps it was the poop that scared him off. Honestly, though, I was surprised at how well he was coping. For a Nervous Ned like he to be actually enjoying the
homebirth of his third child was impressive.  With Roman downstairs, fully awake, happy and excited, I
started pushing in earnest. I knew we had reached that point at which it was all me. If I put my everything into
it, I’d be holding my newest baby within minutes. So I pushed. And pushed. And breathed and pushed.

Compared to my two previous, hospital bed deliveries, this pushing was nothing.  After just a couple of minutes
her head popped completely out. I held my hand down there, rubbing the top of her head as she lingered
between worlds – the born and the unborn. Touching the open air, but not yet breathing. Still yet a part of me,
but partly her own person. Those moments, those scant few moments, when the baby is not quite born, but 
I  can feel the head and touch the nose, those moments are pure magic. There is nothing, absolutely nothing
that can compare. To reach down to such a private and personal part of my body and feel another, whole
person emerging… it defies description. Words are worthless, really.

I would have liked for that moment to last longer. Tammi, too, wanted that moment to last. She asked that
I ease the baby’s shoulders out to protect my perineum.“Gently, gently breathe her out, okay,” she suggested.
But I feared the shoulders. I feared if I rested for too long, her shoulders would settle into my pelvis and become lodged there. I knew this was going to be a big baby. All I had to do was see the shock and horror in the eyes
of my fellow mall walkers to know that I was beyond the realm of normal pregnant woman large. I’m sure
people thought I was with children, carrying around a small litter. My waist came damn close to 52” and my weight… ha! Let’s just say it was… ummm… up there. So this coupled with the fact that the baby was a
week late, I knew she was going to be big.

“Here she comes,” said The Apprentice. “Catch her, Heather.”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I just couldn’t get my hands down there quick enough. Lori, The Apprentice, had a good
hold of her, though. I heard something slap the floor (most likely her feet since she was so dang long) and the
baby was crying before she even made it to my arms. Within a fraction of a second she was in my arms, screaming, and turning a beautiful pink color. I could tell right away she was a big, big girl. She was soft and
wet and warm and lovely.

“BAY-BAY!!” Roman screamed. Mke was laughing, a teary, emotional, hearty laugh. "Welcome,” he said. “Welcome. Happy St. Valentine’s Day.” “Hi baby sister,” Reilly Kate greeted the baby. “Mama, can I touch
her?”

After a few minutes I passed the placenta which was still attached to the baby. We had decided to delay
cutting the cord until it stopped pulsating to allow all that rich umbilical blood to make it’s way into Irina. Irina
and I eventually moved over to rest on the futon where she curled into my lap. Roman took one look at the
cord and said, “Me cut that cord.” And so he did. Along with Reilly Kate and guided by Mike. The three of
them cut the cord, severing Irina from me to attach her to the rest of our ohana (family). It was the first time
in three births that I got emotionally teary. Such a blessing she was born into. Such a blessing she is.

My dad came up from his hiding place in the basement to meet his newest grandbaby. Smitten with her
at first sight, he was. My mom sat happily snapping pictures and juggling the other kids. Mike stoked the
fire and made a few phone calls to announce Irina’s arrival. Being the internet geek that I am, I had the laptop brought over to me so I could do my own announcing. And we all relaxed, soaking in the afterbirth glow.

The midwives did some measuring. As The Apprentice weighed the baby, I heard talk between Tammi and her.

“10…10…” is what I heard. “10…”

“So what is it? Ten even?” I inquired.

“No,” said Tammi stifling a laugh. “10-10. Ten pounds, ten ounces.”


I just about fell out of the futon from the shock. She was a much,
much bigger baby than anyone expected. In fact, she is the
biggest baby Tammi has delivered to date. I don’t think that’s
a record she’ll be breaking any time soon, either. Almost 11 pounds
is about as big as a baby can get without making the evening news.
And thank God we didn't make the news. I always feel sorry for
 those poor women who have to be interviewed when looking the
worst they've ever looked.

About an hour or so after she was born, Irina and I went upstairs.
My mom had drawn us a nice warm bath with steeped herbs
specifically for post partum. It was heavenly. The baby and I
got to relax and wash up while everyone else in the house
 cleaned up after the mess we'd made. As we bathed, Irina
 looked into my eyes with those wise, aged eyes that newborns possess. We all put our jammies on and Mike and I signed a
 few papers for the midwives. The older kids went to their beds, exhausted, but with the nervous energy of a Christmas Eve.
 My mom and dad hunkered down in their bed in the basement -- conveniently out of earshot of any midnight wailing. The midwives departed, deciding to brave the ice slicked roads. Thankfully, they safely made their way home. And all was
right with the world. Our first night of slumber and nursing and discovery lay ahead. Our first night with our very
own Valentine.