I was convinced I would have my fourth baby a little early. I was worried I wouldn't make it to Pascha - my most favorite day of the year. But Holy Week, Pascha, and Bright Week came and went and I was still pregnant. I would be for a couple more weeks! Finally, one night around bed time my water broke. It was Fri. night and I was a week past my due date. I was crying every morning I woke up still pregnant. Needless to say I was relieved that the ball was about to get rolling. There was a funeral for a beautiful, old woman from my parish on Sat. morning that I wanted to go to. She was the lady who graced my family with her gift of hospitality on our first visits to an Orthodox Church, welcoming us, and encouraging us to kiss the cross after the service, when at the time it felt very taboo to us. Vera was very special and very loved by every one at our parish, as she radiated the light of Christ. May her memory be eternal!
As the warm waters left my body, I felt the first contractions. I called my midwife, LisaMarie, to give her a heads up. After an hour or so contractions kept picking up and I asked LM to come. As my kids slept, Jason and LM bustled around the house making birthing preparations while I tried to get some sleep but felt too excited. In came the tub and water, chux pads and safety equipment, brewing of herbs for post partum comforts, and piles of towels and receiving blankets. I thought I'd have my baby by 5 am. But as the time went on, my contractions waned and I prepared myself for a 9pm baby, like the others.
As the sun came up, my thoughts were on Vera, and I was trying to think of a way to go to her funeral, but labor pains, though spread out, were still pretty hard, and my water was broken so that could have been really awkward! Our baby's heartrate was a bit fast at times and I was beginning to feel worried. I told Jason if it didn't change we were going to the hospital, that I didn't want a home birth just to have a home birth. My midwife felt the same way and we both feel that, in a sense, we laid it down before God. LM sensed that the baby was perhaps waiting for the beautiful Vera's funeral to be over. I believe this was true. The midwives went home for some rest, left us with the doppler and ordered me to rest, rest, rest. The more I rested, the happier the little baby was. My temp. and blood pressure were perfect, and thank God, rest was just what we needed.
Our dear friends Thomas and Maria came and picked up our kids and took them to church for the funeral with plans to keep our daughter Hannah with them, and drop off our boys with my mom. Knowing our kids were in good hands, and that our little baby was just fine got my labor back in business. Contractions got hard and closer together again around noon. It was all so familiar - the rythm of laboring. The waves of intense pain and work fading into the peaceful breaks in between. I tried relaxing my whole body to get through them, allowing myself to do the work without the crippling distraction of tensing up. I got in and out of the tub. I watched tv. I let Jason and LM bring me snacks and drinks. My laboring beverage of choice is diluted cranberry juice with ice. I tried to eat cheese and crackers but really didn't have a huge appetite. I just ate enough for some energy.
Time ticked by and it was the afternoon when I started to get very tired, and labor seemed very intense. I went upstairs to bed for awhile to try to nap. Jason came with me - he wasn't feeling that great and we both dozed off between contractions. I would get a tough one and he would quickly wake up enough to put pressure on my tailbone to help me with the pain. We did this over and over for about an hour (I think.) The midwife picked up her partner Celia, and I came downstairs to get some relief in the tub. I got hit with a huge contraction and draped my arms over my new friend Celia to ride it out. I got in the tub and enjoyed a break as things slowed down again. Then LM suggested I get out for a while and stand up to let gravity take its effect. I was hesitant because I was feeling so sick of the pain, but also wanted badly enough to be done that I took her advise. I walked the few steps to the bathroom and stood up by the towel bar and got hit with those huge contractions that you just know are really bringing the baby down. I couldn't believe we were coming to this point - the point of transition - it wasn't 9pm yet! It was around 4ish. I got through a few big contractions in the bathroom and headed back to the tub. The house next door was being rented out and I remember people coming by to look at it and I was like, "Close the windows!" Can you imagine house shopping and hearing crazy birthing noises going on next door? OMG! How embarassing! I'm convinced that the people who rented the house are the ones that came by that day and they think we are total weirdos. haha.
So anyway...Birthing! I was getting to my absolutely least favorite part of giving birth. Ouchy, ouchy, pain, pain. I was starting to get pushy. I remember standing up in the tub, this time draped over Jason feeling so helpless. As we embraced I felt an overwhelming sense of peace and love. I was in my own home, being loved and supported by the wonderful man who gave me the gift of a baby, of which I was about to bring into the world. Those moments were strikingly romantic. More urges to push kept coming. LM encouraged me to just listen to my body and do what I felt I needed to do. No official check of my cervix and permission - just a gentle support of doing what I felt was best. I made some whimpy attempts at pushing, testing it out and before I knew it, I was in the spot all future mothers who are about to push a baby out find themselves to be: A rock and a hard place. You either push and deal with the pain or you will be pregnant forever. I picked the first option.
I HAD TO PUSH! OMG I AM PUSHING! AAAAH! I slashed around the water in the tub like a caught marlin expending the last of it's energy. It was kind of ridiculous. The midwives had calm faces. They did not panic. I pulled it together. I pushed. And I pushed. And, by golly, it was working. I told the baby not to worry. I was gonna get her out just fine. Come on baby. It's time to be born! Today is your birthday! For the first time in my career of pushing, I felt like it wasn't so completely horrible. Maybe it was the water, I don't know. But this time I felt much more in control. I knew I was going to be done very soon. We saw her head. Jason got that ecstatic look he gets when we have a baby. I grunted and growled and slowly eased her out. She had nuchal hand one of the midwives carefully got out of the way. Her face was out, and then in one big final, epic push I got the rest of our baby out, right into my own hands. I slowly and gently lifted her up out of the water for her first breath of life. She looked like Hannah! She was wide-eyed and stunning. She was chubby cheeked and sweet and all that a newborn baby should be. She was born beautifully without one cry. No trauma. Just joy. We adored her. She checked us out.
She was born on St.s Constantine and Helen day. A dear friend of mine told me she had prayed our baby would be born that day - and her prayers were answered with a yes! And of course I would name our baby for the great Saint Helen. It was meant to be. I felt the prayers of Vera, the prayers of my patron St. Anna as she watched over me while I was in the birth tub.
Everything else went great after that. I got tucked into my bed with our new sweet baby. Hannah came home that night and slept with us while Jason passed out on the boy's bed. In the morning my mom brought the big brother home and they all got to mee their new sister. It's so fun to see the older siblings meet the baby for the first time. They are always so enamored with the new baby. So lovely!
I will not lie and say everything was perfect after the birth. It was by far, my hardest post-partum. Hannah, my firstborn's was difficult in another way, being a cesarean, I had a painful physical recovery, and I believe I had wacky hormones because of it and definitely had "baby blues" with some uncontrollable crying and extreme exhaustion. James was pure elation, being a VBAC and in many ways a taking back of my body, and I felt incredible after. Phillip's birth was long and hard and I felt more tired, but still mostly OK. But after our little love, Helena, I felt completely overwhelmed with everything. I think it was a challenge because she had a weird latch issue and lost more weight than I was comfortable with. Using some creativity I figured out a way to trigger more milk ejection reflexes while she nursed, and she finally began plumping up. I think the worry robbed much of my joy, unfortunately. Thank God for my family, and church family and friends that brought us meals! Managing my house, the big kids, and caring for a newborn that needed to gain weight rattled my nerves. My poor family! The fog really didn't lift until Helena was six weeks and we were churched.
Little Helena is an angel of a baby. She's been so sweet. From birth, she has had the most engaging eyes and face. She makes eye contact with everyone and freely gives her big baby grin. When she was just a month old, she played a cute little baby game that she made up. She sat in her bouncy seat and we would put a blanket over her body. Then we would se how fast she'd kick it off. She did this over and over, much to the delight of the whole S. Family! We are so pleased to be blessed with her and we thank God every day for our dear family.
Our "rugged" backyard :)
And a happy garden!
Here I am looking really cool. I had the baby about 2-3 hours after this pic was taken. We were watching Say Yes to the Dress on Netflix. I was feeling suuuper goofy at this point and the hormones were making me giggle. If this makes you laugh, you are welcome. ;)