Another Blink & a Birthstory. Sort of.

by Mrs. Smith on February 18, 2022

Another blink, and now he’s 2 months old.

Oh, he’s fluffed up so nicely!

Do you know what I discovered as I wrote my last post?

This is so funny and weird for me. Ready? Here it is….

Moment of truth:
I don’t want to share iBaby’s birth story online.
And I didn’t/don’t feel all that much like sharing it in person either.

Weird weird weird. It’s a first, for sure. With our other 6 babies, I was excited to share how it went – but this one, I found I just didn’t (and don’t) want to put it into words.

If anything, I love the process of childbirth even more now than I did then. If anything, after what I learned and experienced this time around, I feel even more deeply passionate about absolutely eliminating the fear of homebirth specifically and childbirth in general.


But again, nope. Didn’t want to, didn’t feel the need to, and only barely does my conscious mind whine about the departure from tradition. There’s just a funny lingering confuzzlement about how different it is to feel this way.

Yes, confuzzlement is a word. I just made it up, so it clearly exists. It is a combination of confused and puzzled and wonderment, which is just as funny a sounding word, when you think about it.

I don’t feel any shame or social weirdness around the topic of childbirth. It’s not that.

I mean, heck, with Baby #4, I somehow managed to find time to write like a zillion words about the home birth experience. Broke it up into 6 posts. Got myself all teary-eyed diving down that rabbit hole just now. Good stuff.

Childbirth is amazing. It’s beautiful. It’s intense. It’s messy. It’s hard. It’s empowering. It’s all-consuming like nothing else is. It bonds you with the people who you allow to be there.

You never really know for sure ahead of time how it will go, even if you’ve done it before, so it also pulls up all your faith and all your fear about experiencing the unknown.

The birth of iBaby was wonderful, I learned a lot from it, and all I can say is that I’m grateful for all the love and support from those around me (in person or long-distance), who were patient alongside me as I walked that long road of 40-42 weeks pregnant, who held their breaths in anticipation and reverence when the day finally came, and who took care of my family in the aftermath. I love you more than I have words for, and the depth of appreciation I have knows no bounds. Thank you. The folks blessed to be there in person (Hubby, Mom, and Kid #6, actually!) did awesome at being there in ways that I wanted.

Okay,  just kidding, I do need to write this part out, actually.

Our 8 year old surprised us all with how absolutely perfectly she responded to my needs. Like, legit, she was such a great little doula! My mom was shadowing her, and I’m so super grateful that Halia was allowed to participate with all of this. She needed this experience so badly, and I needed her to have it.

Selfie or it didn’t happen, right?
2am, and she’s still awake enough to make goofy faces.

Oh, and PS, this picture reminds me –
most of labor happened in C’s room because Josh and I were sleeping in it that night, why? Because we had *another* smoke-incident with the fireplace in our room earlier. (long story)
Thankfully, it aired out by the time we needed it.
And speaking of C, she was also up and doing a lot of helper work behind the scenes. Yay team!

I can’t even tell you how wonderful it was to have her show up in the doorway with her favorite fleece blanket fresh out of the dryer, because she heard me talk about being cold. She even tucked it around me. I was resting with one leg off the bed, so she found a Squishmallow that turns inside out, and put my foot inside it so it wouldn’t be cold. She watched the hose that was filling the birthing tub so that her daddy could be with me. And 4 hours later, during the most intense contractions at the very end, while my sweetheart stayed up near my shoulders where he could rub them and have his face near mine, she held my hands in hers and told me I was doing a good job. I knew my mom was there behind her, ready to support Halia if she needed anything, and the whole package just felt SO perfect, it really enabled me to mentally be where I needed to be – giving birth.

I hope I never forget how it felt to have my hands draped over the edge of the birthing tub, with her little hands holding them, and her little voice there with me, while I was sucked into that vortex portal infinity thing that you go through as a woman just about to give birth. You’re there in the room and you’re also hurtling through a realm where time and space do not exist and there is only, well, all-consuming pain, actually. It’s wild and beautiful and there’s nothing that compares to it.

“It’s okay, mommy, you’re doing great! You’re doing so good.”

I’m also profoundly grateful for the attending midwife, who showed me a new level of female empowerment. She basically gave me the power of an unattended birth, with the safety net of having her there in the background in case I needed attending. It was amazing. And we did actually benefit from her expertise help when my placenta was taking it’s sweet time to get ejected. It was still hanging out in there, like, 45min after the baby was born. Silly body, not wanting to let go. Can’t imagine where it got THAT tendency.

So much for me not talking about iBaby’s birth. Ha.

I have new respect for how much work it is to bring a little person into this world. I am simultaneously horrified that my body did this 6 times, so close together, and also thankful that I got it all done while I was younger, because, dang, recovery in an older body. Less fun, even when the delivery actually went super smoothly. 39 years old is NOT the same as 30. It just isn’t.

But the babies still turn out fabulous.


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