(Sorry for the delay. Master Freedom is officially one month old yesterday… About time to get this story printed so my blog can move on. Did any of you journalers ever get stuck like that? “I can’t write about today until I finish writing about music camp…” Until 6 months later you finally give up and find a new journal. Yeah.)
So! How does a homebirth work?
Well, it may not be fair to generalize like that. How did my homebirth work? Ah, that I can tell you.
T’was the night before birthing and all through the house…
Right. I’d love to continue along that idea, but don’t have time now. FOUR, you know.
It was the night following the afternoon in which I thought vehemently, “I can. NOT. do. this. one. more. day!” I woke up when John came home late from his Bishopric meeting, and noticed the familiar tightening that usually just faded away during the weeks prior. Night-time, it seemed, was workout time for my tummy.
But this time -oh bliss!- the tightening came back at regular intervals. As much as I wanted a well-rested husband during the whole process, I couldn’t hold back my excitement very long. It’s his job to time these things, you know. [He’d been on-call during the week prior, and was running very little sleep, poor guy… Oh well…]
Thus it was that around 2am, contractions were roughly 6 minutes apart and getting closer. Holly was called & the kiddie pool inflated. John’s lungs got a workout taking care of the last 5% that the air-matress-pump couldn’t do. I giggled and pranced around the play room, giddy with joy that I was nearing the end of being pregnant.
But I can't smile any bigger!
Yes, that’s me in labor. Absolutely thrilled about it, can you tell?
The end is nigh!
We didn’t have to rush anywhere. There was no bag to grab, things to forget. I took a shower, wore my own comfy clothes (that alone made going au naturale worth it! hahaha), felt free to roam around, bounce on the great big ball, hug my sweetie through contractions… I think I even did dishes at the very beginning, which was actually a very freeing & calming little excersize. Can’t have a baby with dishes in the sink, you know. Clutter, maybe. Dishes? Never. What would Flylady say?
I was expecting at any moment that my water would break and we’d have a new baby in less than a hour. That’s just how my body works. I wasn’t even worried about the kids getting up. Surely this would all be over by then.
But it wasn’t. This time baby had very different plans…
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