My Homebirth Story: Part 2
In part one of this series, I shared the background on my faith and the impact this has had on the last 3 years of my life as well as what prodromal and early labor looked like for me. If you missed that, catch up here. Now let’s dive back into the good stuff.
The Day Before
Fast forward to early Monday morning (December 4), I woke up at 2:30 am with the strongest surge yet. I tried falling back asleep but it was getting more difficult to sleep through them so we got up around 3 am and watched more Christmas movies. Sleep had become intermittent this last week so I was napping whenever I could. At this point, surges averaged 60 seconds every 5-10 minutes. It was getting harder to talk through them and I noticed I needed to stop, breathe and focus way more than before. We decided to go to my scheduled chiropractic appointment at noon to see if that would help things progress. I had some car surges — not fun! — and the adjustment felt good. Things slowed down after that, which she assured me was normal as the body realigns and the nervous system adjusts. They were still intense and long, even if further apart.
Then things started to pick up around the time our boys got home from school close to 4 pm. Surges lengthened and strengthened over the next few hours while I labored on the birth ball and then standing in the kitchen. We said a family prayer around 7:15 pm before the boys went to bed. My husband kept tracking surges and texting with the midwife to let her know we were approaching the 4-1-1 timing (surges occurring 4 minutes apart lasting 1 minute for 1 hour). By this point I was getting pretty vocal and unable to talk through surges. The midwife and her assistant arrived around 8pm, and after checking my vitals, I moved to our master bathroom to labor in the quiet and comfort of that space with my husband.
This is when the back labor and intensity got stronger and I needed my husband to squeeze my hips together each time a wave hit. I no longer wanted music, instead I kept repeating over and over in my mind “pressure, pressure, pressure, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,” and “each surge brings me closer to meeting our baby” to carry me through each wave of intensity.
My husband was there to encourage me the entire time, and also to let me know that my labor sounds reminded him of Dori trying to speak whale in Finding Nemo. We both had a laugh about that. For whatever reason my body really wanted to be in active positions during surges. Hands and knees wasn’t comfortable and just the thought of lying down curled my toes. That left me standing or sitting on the birth ball the entire labor and I was reaching next level exhaustion. At one point I remember asking to get in the birth pool, thinking the warm water would help me through, but it wasn’t ready.
I also felt very uncomfortable and interrupted by the midwife wanting to check vitals every 30-45 minutes. I needed to stay focused and to feel safe with my husband in the privacy of our room. I did agree to a cervical check (my first one ever) at 10 pm because I needed some sign that things were progressing. The exhaustion was starting to take a toll mentally. After the check, my midwife, assistant and husband all huddled outside in the kitchen to have a chat and I knew it wasn’t good news. Although they didn’t tell me this until later, it turns out after all of that, I was only 2 cm dilated and 40 percent effaced. They wanted me to try to slow surges and get some sleep so that my uterus could regain strength. I took quite a few Benadryl and despite trying to relax, spent the next few hours in purgatory.
Begging for a C-section
I got as comfy as I could with my body pillow and tried to will my body to slow down, breathing deeply through surges and repeating birth affirmations to rest, relax and trust in the Lord. They did space out to about every 5-10 as minutes, but they absolutely did not lessen in intensity. In fact they felt stronger, making it near impossible to fall asleep.
I kept moving from the bed to the floor, curling up in the corner wailing and begging for my husband to do something. He tried propping me up against the wall with pillows but nothing worked.
Around 1:30 am I began demanding a c-section, the one thing I feared the most and had told everyone on my birth team I would do everything in my power to avoid. Labor takes you to some surreal places and I was reaching a breaking point. My body started shaking and shivering as if I were going into shock and I couldn’t keep warm. My husband wrapped me in his big fluffy robe as I continued to melt down and beg him for a c-section, anything to make this stop.
It felt like I was dying and I even said that aloud to Michael at one point. My internal plea read: “How can I go on? Jesus, please help me.” And he did.
Trust me. You can go on, mama. You will. You were designed for this. Even if it doesn’t go as you imagined.
Active Labor Begins
Earlier, my midwife said if I needed help calming down, we could go to the hospital for medically induced sleep so that was what we were going to do. My husband drew a warm bath in our tub while he arranged care for our boys, started the car and contacted the midwife with this update. The warm water felt Heavenly and definitely helped me cope better. When it was time to get out and get dressed, it became clear I wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly surges were back with a vengeance. They came on strong, lasting a minute or more every 2-3 minutes. My midwife called to listen through a surge and once she heard me ask for a C-section, she was on her way back out to our place. Definitely in active labor now, I realized, this was happening.
While I labored in the front bathroom, my husband and sister-in-law worked quickly to fill the rest of the birth pool with hot water so I could get in. Finally! The moment I’d been waiting for all night! Water truly does work miracles for labor relief.
When the midwife and her assistant re-arrived at our home at 5:45 am, they wanted to check me. Although that sounded horrible, I eventually agreed to move to the birth stool for a cervical exam. I was 8 cm dilated and 95% effaced. Relieved, I got back into the pool to labor some more. Over the next two hours, I deliriously rotated through positions of leaning back into my husband in the pool, kneeling and standing/squatting and sitting on the birth stool, as my guttural wails and pleas to our baby girl to come out filled our home. “Hannah, come out.” I remember asking the midwife if my baby could come faster and if she could just reach up and pull her out for me. The things you’ll say in labor!
I’d spent the entire pregnancy reframing my mind around pain, focusing on language like surges, pressure and intensity, but if I’m being honest, this hurt and I kept repeating:
“It hurts,”
“I can’t,”
“Mary, please help me.”
But at the end of it all, Jesus was still right there with me, I could feel it. He wouldn’t let me give up. I had restored hope when my midwife told me to reach up inside and feel my baby’s head. She was so close!
I’d never felt comfortable with my midwife and had a tense relationship with her throughout pregnancy, but she was exactly who and what I needed to get me through my first homebirth. God does nothing by accident. So as I begged her to break my water, coach me through pushing (I’d wanted to experience the fetal ejection reflex) and to help use her fingers to make space for my baby to descend the birth canal, I no longer had doubts. These previously unwanted interventions were entirely necessary and I believe the Lord was trying to show me that no, I can’t do this on my own, and no, I don’t always know best, and yes, He would take care of me and show me the way.
Crying and wailing my way through active labor, just as the Lord didn’t abandon me, my husband never stopped supporting me, praying over me and applying pressure to my hips during each surge. He stayed in the pool when I moved to the birth stool for the final phase of pushing.
As the boys and my sister-in-law scuffled downstairs, I remember feeling intense pressure and burning as I cried out in a mix of pain and desire, listening to Mary’s voice telling me to “keep going mama,” and “push harder, harder, harder,” until finally, her head was out and then after one more small push, they were placing my sweet baby girl on my chest.
Welcome Baby
Hannah Grace Rutherford, born at 8:04 am on Tuesday December 5, 2023 weighing 8 lbs 5 oz was finally here, and she was perfect. “Give thanks to the Lord for He is good. His steadfast love endures forever” (psalm 118:1).
The next hour was a blur. My placenta shot out about 30 seconds after Hannah, and I hemorrhaged, requiring 2 shots of pitocin to stop the bleeding. Some of my placenta membranes were still retained inside my uterus so that was cause for concern and I’d also torn. The midwife couldn’t see how bad the tear was, but it looked like a 3 or 4 degree tear from her vantage point.
I did get some skin-to-skin time with our sweet Angel and we did breastfeed but it was not the peaceful golden hour I’d imagined. We did have to go to the hospital that morning to have the tear sewn up, which was exhausting and stressful, but again, necessary. Thankfully it ended up only being a 2.5 degree tear.
I was essentially in labor for 72 hours, with 6-7 hours of active labor and 56 minutes of pushing. It was the hardest thing I’ve done and ever will do! It took me to the end of myself but Jesus met me there at the foot of the cross and He carried me through to completion. He gave me the birth I needed, one of surrender and letting it all go to Him. Prior to this and being so new in my faith, I’d often say to my husband, I don’t know what it feels like to fully surrender to God, I don’t know what it feels like to fully trust Him and have faith and to feel the words of the Bible come to life within me. Now I do.
Despite how difficult it was, I am beyond grateful to God for bringing this to completion in the comfort of our home. Praise the Lord for his goodness and for our blessing of a little girl, whom we prayed and prayed for so faithfully.
And yes, I’m really glad my husband didn’t give into my desperate pleas for a C-section! While there were things I wish had happened differently, I know that it couldn’t have gone any other way than it did.
This was God’s plan for me, and God can be trusted to keep His promises.
