Mary Haseltine

Introducing Made for This Birth!

2021-12-08T06:44:00.001-05:00

I’ve been working on something for the better part of a year and I really hope you’ll like it!

In snatched up minutes of time (I mean that quite literally!) I’ve been building a new website focused more exclusively on my passion for birth. I would love for you to head on over to www.madeforthisbirth.net and make my day by giving it a follow or just poke around! This new project of my heart is focused on providing women with support, information, resources, and confidence to have the birth God designed for them.

Y’all, we have a Creator who designed our bodies intricately, perfectly, and intentionally. I’m sick and tired of the lies filling our culture and individual stories whispering (or downright shouting) that our bodies and their design are broken, wrong, or unimportant. I hope and pray this little project can play a part in dismantling them. We are made - body and soul - for beauty and greatness and glory. And we are made for birth.

Made for This Birth contains a blog, a store(!), info on my book, will share birth stories from a variety of women, and will now host the Catholic Birth Directory. But I have some even more super exciting things to share soon so go give it a follow so you can stay up to date!

This site maryhaseltine.com will stay live so people (and I!) can access my older posts on the huge variety of things I've spent years writing about. But as life, discernment, and privacy concerns have changed, I'll be focusing my future online endeavors and outreach over on that project.

Thank you so so much for your support and love over the many years I've been writing here. God has blessed it beyond what I ever would have expected when I timidly and secretly started that Blogger account way back in 2011. I hope and pray that all my past posts and future writing glorifies Him and blesses you.

The Birth of Adam Kolbe

2021-11-15T13:27:00.000-05:00

All pictures are copyrighted and may not be taken without permission.

(Continued from last post...)

I approached full term and we stayed close to home with the exception of daily Mass. By the grace of God I had taken the boys every weekday morning to Mass the whole year and throughout the pregnancy. When Masses reopened after the Covid shutdowns, I felt incredibly convicted that there was no more important place to be with my family every day. It was such a comfort and no doubt it was one of the reasons I experienced the graces I did. I know the Eucharist was sustaining me and keeping me going each day. Brian and I started our tradition of praying the Consecration to Jesus through Mary preparation on behalf of this baby. With each one we have consecrated each baby to her using the 33 day preparation and ending on the Marian feast day closest to the due time or baptism. We planned it to end on August 15, the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary. Our second oldest Michael joined us through the whole thing as we had asked him to be the baby’s Godfather.

My official 40 week mark was August 20, though whenever asked I would only divulge that I was due at the end of the summer. It was somewhat helpful in not getting impatient towards the end but the closer I got the more I grew attached to the idea of baby being born the 14, 15, or 16. The 14th is the feast of St. Maximilian Kolbe, one of our possible patrons for a boy baby. The 15th is the great Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary, my very favorite feast day of the year celebrating the glorification and redemption of her body (and eventually all of ours with her). The 16th is our wedding anniversary and certainly would have been a beautiful way to celebrate!

The 14th came with no signs of labor. I woke up on the 15th, a Sunday, and got ready for Mass at which we were also planning to complete our Consecration. Before Mass began, we did. Kneeling at the image of Our Lady of Czestochowa in our parish, we consecrated our little one to Mary and also prayed that he or she would be born that day.

We came home to have a laid back day. It was hot and beautifully sunny. I had another massage scheduled at noon and told her to feel free to use any and all techniques she knew to encourage baby out. She did do some intense work on some pressure points during the massage, during which I nearly fell asleep on the table. I wish I had had access to massage during my other pregnancies! Such a gift.

After she left I ate and then went to visit the kids and Brian playing in the pool. I didn’t feel up for getting in and went back inside. I prepared things for dinner and during that time noticed that I was having some very light surges. As soon as I noticed them, they were about 3-4 minutes apart but so very light and easy to write off as a Braxton-Hicks type of practice labor to which I was no stranger.

Except they kept coming. They were so light and gentle but noticeable. Brian got the rest of dinner ready and I came down to eat with everyone around 4:15. I had begun timing these little sensations and during dinner they got to 2-3 minutes apart. I was joking and smiling and talking through them with the boys and feeling relatively good so it didn’t feel like anything truly “real”. Maybe very early labor but not worth stopping everything for and definitely not time to call anyone. I wasn’t very hungry since I had eaten a sandwich not long before so I ended up not really eating dinner. I went upstairs to be alone and to see if that would change anything that was happening and at least make sure I had all my supplies in order if it was. I had asked a former client and friend who had also had some doula training and whose husband is a photographer if she would up for photographing the birth. I hadn’t had any success finding someone available who fit our budget and my desire to just pay someone to take photos, leaving me the unedited images and all the rights to them. I'm so glad Anna was up for it! During this time knowing that she had to figure out childcare, I shot her a quick text that I was feeling things but not sure and I would keep her updated. It didn’t at all feel worth interrupting my midwife yet. And even if I had, I would’ve probably said the same…I’m sort of feeling things but unsure and I’ll keep you updated.

Right after that text things slowed way down. I was having one here or there but they were now 6-10 minutes apart and still what felt like Braxton Hicks. No pain or even real discomfort and far enough apart to be pretty ignorable. I was glad I hadn't called anyone to come but I was also kind of frustrated wanting it to have been real. Looking back I really wish I had known that it really was early labor and enjoyed it more! It was exactly the gentle labor for which I had prayed but I was blind to it! The unknowing was just kind of annoying at the time.

At about 5:15 or so, the family all came up to our bedroom where I was hanging out and we prayed a Rosary together. It was really beautiful despite that I was pacing a bit, sitting on the ball, and leaning on the bed as we prayed but I was doing that during most family Rosaries while pregnant anyway to stay comfortable. The boys were used to it! During the Rosary I only had a handful of light sensations that weren’t very convincing at all. I was beginning to resign myself to it not being real.

At around 6 Brian went to put the little two to bed (yes, that early…they needed it!) and I turned my birth playlist on for some needed encouragement and worship. He then sent the oldest four to watch a movie because I had mentioned having some time alone together. At about 6:15 we laid down together with the intention of being intimate. I figured it could either get things moving or if not, it would still be a gift to enjoy some time together. Very soon after lying down, I had two light contractions and before anything further could happen things took a huge shift. I jumped up off the bed from the intensity of a big surge and immediately had zero desire for anything further on the intimacy front!

That must have been around 6:30. I waited and another very strong wave soon came. THIS was labor I was familiar with and now it was clear. I told Brian to fill the tub because I knew I would need some of that relief from the water very soon. I didn't want a water birth this time but at the moment I just wanted to be in the water. While he was doing that I called my midwife’s line and left a message at 6:45. She called back at 6:48 and already I wasn’t wanting to talk so Brian spoke with her and told her it was time. She said she’d pack her things and be on her way estimating about 30-40 minutes.

It was then that another wave came that brought me to my knees at the foot of the bed. I wanted to get in the water right then. Brian had just started recording in the bedroom but then followed me to the bathroom carrying the tripod with him. I’m so thankful I had everything ready for a few weeks and had prepped him that videoing this birth was really important to me. It also gave me an exact timeline of the rest of the birth and that was very helpful looking back! At 6:54 I got into the tub while Brian let Anna know to head over. The relief from the water was palpable but still the intensity of the contractions was already nearing the overwhelming point. It was as though I went from “is that a real surge?” to transition in a matter of moments and it was incredibly disorienting.

We had the music playing and I was praying in the water, not in the peaceful way I had hoped but in a bit of a pleading and somewhat overwhelmed way. A few minutes after being in the water I tried to check myself. I only felt some of the amniotic sac pushing through what certainly seemed to be only a 2-3 cm cervix, no head. That got in my own head a bit because the sensations I was feeling were not at all consistent with that. It made me second guess whether this was real and doubt myself. I wish I could have surrendered to what was happening and trusted my intuition a bit more in those moments.

The next surges were mind blowing. It felt so suddenly as if my hips were being pulled apart. Brian got in the water and applied counter pressure that took a small tip of the edge off but wow, were they intense. I reached that point where everything in me wanted to say I can’t do this but when I opened my mouth, with all my willpower I voiced the words, “I can do this.” I had about three of those and then I felt the pop of my membranes breaking at 7:11. I told him my water had broken. During all this time I was on my knees in the water, rising enough to rock back and forth during surges and then sink back down. Immediately in the next surge I felt the uncontrollable bearing down. I wanted so much for it all to slow down but I couldn’t control it. I had really hoped for a slower and gentler pushing stage but this was more akin to a cannon ball shooting through me. I tried to breathe him down but it was too powerful. I said “I can’t stop” as his head moved down and began to crown all in one surge. During that I let out one huge roar, the loudest I had been through the entire labor. I felt the familiar burning stretch and reached down to cup the tiny little top of a head in my hand. (For weeks after and even still I am brought right back to that moment when I hold his head in my hand.) A few seconds later, his head was completely out. I comically just said “head!” so Brian, who was positioned behind me, would know what was happening. A pause of a few more seconds and the rest of his body slid into the water, official time 7:14.

Time seemed to stand still for just a few moments. It was stunningly beautiful and a memory I will treasure forever. I reached down to catch my baby, a dream of mine for this birth. I slowly pulled him out of the water, unwrapped the cord that was draped around his neck and pulled him up to me as I turned to sit in the tub. He wasn’t making much noise but his tone was great. I rubbed his back a bit. Without thinking I used my mouth to suck anything out of his that might be in the way. Looking back at the video, it probably wasn’t necessary but it was just what I felt I should do in the moment. He let out a small cry and we had those beautiful moments as I caught my own breath, cried, laughed, and thanked God for this precious baby. I marveled at all his vernix, more than any of our previous babies! I remember saying “Oh my baby!” and “thank you, Jesus!” and laughably, “I’m so glad that was real!” I then checked and discovered we had another beautiful son!

So glad Brian thought to grab these pictures!

That vernix!

From getting into the water to baby being born was exactly 20 minutes and only 30 minutes after I had called the midwife. If my check was accurate, I went from that 2-3 cm to holding baby in about 15 minutes. No wonder it was so so intense!

A few minutes later I felt like I should call Maura to let her know. I didn’t really need to do that either since she was on her way and I knew we were both fine. Maybe it was the doula in me that felt like it was what I was supposed to do! She was about eight minutes away. At about 7:23 Brian called the boys down from their movie and woke the two little ones from sleep to let them know. They came into the bathroom to see me holding their new little brother in the tub.

Maura and Anna both arrived at about the same time. Right around then, he latched on to nurse with almost no help from me. I had been holding him on my chest and barely moved him into position and he was on before I even tried. I had had thoughts of attempting the breast crawl if I hadn’t been in the water but in the water it isn’t really as feasible with needing to keep the baby up and out of the water, at least with how I was sitting. After getting her things settled, Maura and Brian helped me out of the tub. I felt ready to birth the placenta so I did just that in a standing position next to the tub into the bowl we had ready. Maura asked if I minded any traction which I didn’t and that helped it come right out. I then made the traditional awkward and comical hobbling postpartum walk to the bed to rest - midwife holding the chux pad underneath me, baby in my arms, and Brian connected to us with the placenta bowl.

This picture made me laugh when I saw it. I don't remember that many people on my bed...

I love that Anna grabbed this. Midwives are so helpful with ALL the things! Trying to picture the OBs I've worked with doing this...

This is a great image to show a truly delayed cord clamping and what the cord should look like. Also, I make really long cords.

We then had several hours of meeting this new little person, baby’s first exam, checking my vitals, snacking on some food the boys brought up, and me just trying to process that it really had happened and so breathtakingly quickly. I had a strange perineal injury where skin had separated but it wasn’t actively bleeding. Maura thought that it was possibly a previous tear site that had given way as he crowned. At the time it wasn’t looking like a good fit for her to stitch it back in place but it did end up causing a lot of pain and uncomfortable pressure the next few weeks. I was able to do my own semi-repair a week later that immediately helped but didn’t completely heal it. With how fast he came out it’s honestly a grace that there wasn’t more tearing especially with the amount of scar tissue I have. But I was disappointed that my hopes to avoid any perineal injury weren’t met, though I knew it was a long shot since I’ve had them with every birth.

We attempted to do a cord burning having heard about it for the first time during this pregnancy. We did do it for a while but then I started getting a bit sore and antsy about 8-10 minutes in and we ended up cutting through the rest of it. But it was neat to have that be a slower process and have the boys involved more than usual!

Once he was separated we had his exam. 8lbs 1oz and I think 20 inches long and everything beautifully healthy. How we have been blessed with so many healthy children, I sometimes cannot comprehend.

Maybe around 9:30 Anna and Maura left and Brian put the little boys back to bed. The older boys stayed up a little bit longer before we sent them to bed as well. And there we were, lying in our own bed with our fresh from the womb, fruit of our love, Adam Kolbe. His name is a tribute to Christ the New Adam whose cross and Resurrection allowed His Mother and hopefully someday each one of us to be fully redeemed in body and soul as well. It is also after the original Adam, created in the image and likeness of God, made for union and happiness with Eve, and ultimately with the Trinity. I love the icons I've seen of Jesus reclaiming and redeeming Adam on Holy Saturday. Kolbe is after the great martyr of charity, Saint Maximilian Kolbe, who was killed in Auschwitz after offering his life as ransom for another prisoner.

I write this about 12 weeks out from this birth and I’m still processing everything about it as well as the abrupt shift to postpartum life. It’s strange but I still feel a bit in shock at how quickly it happened and how intense it was. I’m working through with the Lord how He answered my prayers and worked through this birth even if it all wasn’t as I expected. I'm trying to understand the words He gave me at the beginning of pregnancy in light of how difficult the postpartum time has been. In so many ways He did give me the birth I asked for. The beginning of the birth was incredibly gentle and joyful, even if I got in my own way of recognizing that! I was able to pray and worship with my family and then alone while in labor. The entire time I was in the tub I was praying and surrounded by worship. I caught my own baby, a moment that I pray will forever be etched in my memory. He was born on my absolute favorite feast day of the year. He was even born to the song that had touched my heart so deeply during pregnancy. And I didn’t pray for this part but He gave me the gift of doing almost all of it unassisted. I actually wonder if there was some subconscious part of me that needed this birth unassisted and that’s why my body shot into hyper evacuate mode almost to the second after I called the midwife.

My heart aches a bit at the thought that I will likely never experience pregnancy and especially the mystery and sacred beauty of birth again. I want so much to go back and do it all over and relive those moments (maybe a bit slower this time!). I feel greedy thinking that since I have been so abundantly blessed to have experienced it seven times but if anything each birth has only increased my awe for its power and glory and for the design of God.

Praise be to the Father for His beautiful design of birth and for the eternal sacred gift of our precious Adam Kolbe. I am undeserving and forever grateful.

The Pregnancy of Adam Kolbe

2021-11-11T13:43:00.003-05:00

All pictures are copyrighted and may not be taken without permission.

The moment the second line appeared I knew we needed a plan. This pregnancy was not shocking but it also wasn’t necessarily the plan, and I’ll leave it at that. I was already feeling at my limit with six kids. Added to that, the past few weeks had been filled with putting finishing touches on a huge apartment addition for our friend Kate. It had been a crazy and all encompassing nine-month adventure and we were ready for a breather. Instead God decided to invite us into another beautiful nine-month project.

In order to feel like I could mentally, physically, and emotionally survive this one, I knew we needed to be more intentional than ever before. Survive is hyperbole, of course, simply to point out that pregnancy is HARD. Pregnancy at age 40 with six previous full term babies that your body has borne is harder still. Pregnancy with a severe back issue and raising aforementioned older six babies, well, that feels like a league of its own. It was clear that this baby was real and here and that if this is what God was assigning us right now that it would need to take priority over other plans, activities, and dreams we desired. And that was okay.

Just a few weeks with a baby bean inside!

The Father reached out almost immediately. Within days of getting that positive test, I felt a gentle peace I hadn’t felt in a long time that neither made sense nor was explainable. It was a calmness of spirit that He was doing something within me, that He was going to show me something with this pregnancy and birth, that He was here and cared, and that He wasn’t letting go. I had the inklings of hope that He wanted to offer me a sense of restoration through this pregnancy.

The Shrine of Our Lady of la Leche

I did well, I think? I think I can say I handled the pregnancy much better than I would have hoped and kept an overall positive attitude, thanks mostly to that grace I just described. (Overall being a key word there, meaning generally speaking and certainly not without many frustrations and failures.) We went on a family vacation/pilgrimage to St. Augustine to the Shrine of Our Lady of la Leche and it was so special to pray for the baby there along with hundreds of other intentions I received. I didn’t share publicly or with family until I was about 18 weeks along. It felt like a special secret but I also found that it was better for my expectations and the state of my peace to hold it close until I felt I had to share.

Just hangin' with some dolphins...wasn't allowed to swim with them :(

I researched and bought a new natural mattress, a last ditch attempt after trying several others over the years with no significant back relief. Thank God it helped. Interestingly enough this was after noticing at a healing retreat a few months back that my back wasn’t hurting and later realizing it was because of the bed. Certainly God can work His healing through circuitous and less than miraculous means when we have an open will!

I spent and researched more on quality supplements – a general prenatal, a higher potency probiotic, so much magnesium in both pill and cream form, iron, a high dose B-12, and vitamin D. Because of Covid and for general winter immune support we were already taking a high vitamin C supplement daily and I continued that throughout my pregnancy. I got through the first trimester with a bit less slogging and a bit more perspective that it would pass soon enough. Not to say that it still wasn’t full of the same debilitating nausea and exhaustion as the others, but it seemed different somehow this time. I knew it would pass and it helped a great deal with perspective. I did spend a lot of evenings when the nausea and general grossness hit hardest (“morning”sickness my foot) playing Dr. Mario with my husband using a Nintendo system a friend let us borrow for a few months. I’m fairly certain hearing that music again would trigger a bout of nausea!

Another very important part of the pregnancy plan was to be very intentional about exercise. The boys moved our treadmill up to our bedroom and I can proudly say I used it every single day from Christmas through my 36th week, barring just a few days when I was traveling. I started with just 20 minutes of walking and moved up to the end to doing 33 minutes and approximately 1.5 miles a morning, the majority of it on an incline. It probably doesn’t sound that impressive to some but it was for me. I would wake up every morning at 5:45 to pray the Divine Office, grab a bit of coffee, and then I would put on my sneakers and do my walking while worshipping with praise music (simultaneously honing my birth playlist). During Lent, I used some of that time to listen to and pray a Rosary with the Dominican Nuns. That walking was so helpful in keeping me somewhat in shape and I think also helped stave off my normal debilitating back pain as well. There were more than a few days and plenty of nights that the pain showed up in full force but it was far fewer than my previous pregnancies and I seemed to be able to rebound easier. Every single morning Brian would bring up a plate of eggs for my breakfast, attempting to time it perfectly with the end of my workout.

The midwife with me for my previous three births had moved to Ireland shortly after the birth of my last baby. Thankfully, a new midwife had arrived just around the same time who began practicing and attending home births. I had worked with her practice about eight or nine times over the previous years as a doula and I was comfortable with her approach and the care and skill she provided. I messaged Maura shortly after seeing that second line to make sure she could reserve a spot for me in mid August.

Throughout the pregnancy I was swatting away different anxieties that would creep up, some that would pester and linger for longer than others. I worried a lot about blood sugar, thinking that my previous baby’s bigger size and a few issues that came up after he was born could possibly be attributed to mild gestational diabetes that went overlooked. I checked my own blood sugar a lot, researching and trying all sorts of tactics and supplements to try to get that morning read off the cusp of “high”. I learned how subjective a whole lot of the GD diagnosis and treatments truly are and how, despite the stern protocols offered, we still don’t know a whole lot and there’s room for a lot of differing opinion on whether common expectations and protocols are actually personalized and evidence based. That’s a different post, though. My fasting blood sugar remained at that borderline throughout the whole pregnancy and I could never get it to look like a wonderful “optimal” reading no matter what I tried. Turns out, looking back with a few non-pregnant readings seen, those numbers were exactly consistent with my non-pregnant reads. I most certainly don’t have diabetes now and probably didn’t then, though whether a mainstream medical provider would have agreed, I doubt.

Another concern to work through was baby’s position. Having had my fifth born “accidentally” vaginally breech at a hospital transfer from planned home birth and having had the next sixth baby freak me out by turning breech at 39 weeks, it was a valid thought that this baby might veer breech as well. I did a lot of processing of those two experiences and a WHOLE lot of digging into the information available on vaginal breech birth. I watched videos and trainings, I prayed, I talked several times with my midwife, I dug into the research and expertise available, and I became convinced that a breech baby was not a valid reason to change my birth plan. I had birthed six full term babies vaginally, one of them breech already, and I had no huge complications. I knew if anyone was perfectly capable of birthing a breech baby, it was me. It wasn’t right for me or even any safer to switch to a surgical or hospital birth for that reason alone, unless that was what I truly wanted. I made a plan with my midwife that if baby was feeling breech at term or at the onset of labor that I would stay home, sign a breech waiver (if there was time), and possibly have another midwife come up (again, if time). Our plan to stay home to birth, barring anything truly concerning, of course, remained intact even if baby was breech. I felt truly empowered by that decision and really appreciated my midwife’s support and respect in that choice.

I saw a pelvic floor therapist a few times during the pregnancy with the hope of helping (or at least mitigating) my diastasis recti and related back pain. I’ve never had issues with prolapse or severe incontinence, thankfully, and she was impressed at my strength but my abdominal muscles and core were definitely not in full functional state and contributed to my chronic back issues. She taught me some exercises to do and I did them faithfully each morning after my walking. Regardless, I still had two significant days where I could literally feel my abdominal muscles stretching apart yet again. It was incredibly painful for a few hours on those days, enough to move me to tears. I don’t remember that kind of pain in previous pregnancies. It almost makes me think that I actually was doing a good job with the exercises and they may have even have been improving but the pressure of the pregnancy was just too much for them and they ripped/separated more suddenly under the growing weight, if that makes sense.

During the last couple months I began taking more evening Epsom salt baths, rewatched all of Monk, lost a lot of my appetite, and ate an even lower carbohydrate diet. I doulaed a few more births until my last at 33 weeks. My friend Theresa generously brought us a meal once a week the last six or so weeks of pregnancy which was an absolute gift. Another friend Allie hosted a sweet brunch to celebrate the baby with some of the young women from our new parish that I had only recently met. We observed a Confirmation, our first kid with a broken bone, a graduation, and a whole bunch of birthdays.

8th grade graduation!

For the first time ever, I had professional maternity pictures taken. At 31 weeks pregnant, I helped chaperone my two oldest boys and a huge group of teens to the Steubenville youth conference. It was extremely hard physically but so good. At 36 weeks pregnant my husband brought our three older boys to the Fraternus Ranch for six days, which meant I was on my own with the three littles. Again, very hard but the sacrifice was worth it for the experience they had there.

Heavy with child and my 17 year old on my old college stomping grounds

The weeks passed, sometimes too slowly for my liking. The summer arrived and for the first time ever, we had a pool available for me to use when hugely pregnant! Brian worked so hard to clean and repair it, to replace the filter with salt, and to make it beautiful for me. It was such a gift to be able to get in the water and for those minutes or hours feel the weight off and be able to move and float! Getting out there with the boys, especially as the heat and humidity turned way up in late July, got very difficult but the times I was able to muster up the energy were such a blessing. Getting out of the water felt like someone had just poured cement on me.

I was finally able to find a massage therapist the last month of my pregnancy. With the Covid situation, it was difficult to find someone who was actively taking clients with whom I was comfortable. I especially had concerns about being in very close proximity with a vaccinated therapist and the possible shedding of viral proteins that was being theorized. There had been so many reports of hormonal issues from women who had been vaccinated or in close proximity to recently vaccinated people that I didn’t want to take any chances. My fear of a preterm birth and possibly needing a hospital was greater than my need for a massage! But through the grapevine I did finally find a wonderful massage therapist who not only was a doula but who came right to the house for sessions! It was wonderful. I had several massages right in my bedroom with my own music playing. I had utilized chiropractic care numerous times in previous pregnancies with varied experiences and results, and this time really felt like massages were a better fit and would have a longer impact on how I felt.

At the beginning of August, I asked our priest to offer us the Rite of Blessing Before Childbirth which he did at Sunday Mass with our parish.

Birth blessing!

Several times I measured my fundal height and was always on target. I sometimes attempted to find baby’s heartbeat with a fetoscope I had bought with my other birth supplies. I was successful a few times but I think this particular cheap one just wasn’t great to work with since I more often than not was unable to find it. At 32 weeks I began drinking a quart a day of a 1:1 nettle and alfalfa tea infusion to increase my iron and vitamin K. At 37 weeks I turned it into a 2:1:1 red raspberry leaf, nettle, and alfalfa mix.

Throughout the whole pregnancy I had been listening to dozens of birth podcasts and couldn’t get enough. I fell into a lot of freebirth podcasts and was so intrigued at the idea of an unassisted birth. I didn’t have plans for one and continued care with my midwife but the idea resonated with me deeply. I knew I did want a midwife on call and present, though, especially in the case of needing pharmaceutical help with a postpartum hemorrhage or assistance with a breech or dystocia. But the idea of the birth being as completely hands off as possible became extremely important to me.

There were other births that I really wanted my older children present. This time I was leaning toward fewer people and a quieter, reverent tone to labor and birth. I wasn’t necessarily opposed to them being there but when I envisioned the birth so very often during pregnancy, it was in my bedroom with Brian, Maura (our midwife), Sigrid (a friend and nurse but also one of our midwife’s assistants), and possibly a photographer. Every single time I pictured it, usually as I walked on the treadmill a few feet away, I was at the foot of my bed on the ground kneeling or squatting, and I was allowing the baby to be born onto the floor in front of me. I wanted the tub and shower in our wonderful new bedroom available for labor but this time really pictured a land birth, not water. I dearly wanted my worship music playing and especially fell in love with one song called “Gracefully Broken.” The mere idea of allowing the Father to move powerfully in and through this birth, working in me, healing me, and speaking to me through this birth very often brought me to tears.

...to be continued...