john cornelius' wild ride- a birth story

Friday was Jedidiah’s feast day. The whole week prior I was having signs of early labor. So at 10 o’clock Friday night I sat back into the couch and heaved a sigh of relief. I did NOT want to be in or near a hospital on the anniversary of Jedidiah’s death. I felt a huge curtain lift. I told God I was ready to meet this baby growing inside me.
Saturday 1am I lost my mucus plug. It’s only happened once before that I can recall and I was in labor at the hospital with Max. I googled and found out it’s just another one of those signs that “labor could be hours, days, or weeks away” - ugh. I tried to tell my body- “pay no mind”. But bodies don’t listen sometimes. Or maybe they do? Anyway the “practice” contractions changed then. They had changed the week prior too. It was like a gradual stepping up. First they were Braxton-hicks, then they were back cramping Braxton-hicks. Saturday began the “cervixy” back-cramping Braxton hicks. They were enough to cause me some distraction. They continued and caused me to wake up through the night- no more sleeping through contractions. And of course that caused me to wonder “is this it?" Some women say, ‘if you can’t sleep through contractions then you are in labor’.”
Sunday Since we went to Saturday night vigil we decided to take Sunday easy. I did get out to Denise’s house to have Christina work on my left round ligament. It was giving me some pain during contractions. She loosened it up and I felt relief immediately. I had gotten used to walking around with it being tight but I worried that it would encourage a less than optimal prenatal position.
The rest of that Sunday went just as the days prior. Days were peppered with attempts at trying to encourage the contractions, and my nights were filled with tricks at trying to discourage them.
Chris kind of liked the side-effect of these night waking contractions. “The bathroom is clean, the laundry is done”. I would switch laundry during each waking or spend 5 minutes tidying up an area before returning to bed to toss and turn what had become my large pregnant body until I was comfortable.
Monday I checked my cervix and I felt what likely was “effacement”. It no longer felt like a rubber coke bottle- but more of a flatter opening. I was going to lay down for a nap but I told the kids “if we walk to the park I’ll have the baby tonight”. They all got their bikes ready. I put Frankie in the stroller with a couple bottles of water and we headed out. It was kind of mucky because of all the rain we had gotten. Mud and fallen leaves covered the path. I had only a few contractions walking to and from the park. Mostly I just felt side-stitches.
Of course that night the kids looked at me expectantly.
“Ummm, mom? You said….”
“Well, maybe tomorrow.”
Going to bed I had a few good contractions but looking at the clock told me they weren’t coming in a pattern good enough to do anything.
Tuesday At about 2 am I woke to a real contraction. It caused me to breathe nice deep and slow. I really was quite exhausted so I got up and went downstairs for some wine, magnesium, and a little hulu. I downed a glass of red wine and 2 magnesium pills. I watched a little of an episode of “house” before I decided I’d go give sleep a try. It was beautiful. Contractions kept coming irregularly but they didn’t keep me awake. I’d feel them- breathe deeply through them- but they never got me anxious. I’d go right back to deep sleep- just what I needed.
In the morning I watched Chris sleep and debated telling him. I thought “surely these contractions will pick up once I’m up on my feet and about my day”. I decided not to tell him and let him go in to work- about an hour’s drive away. It ended up being a good choice. It turned out not to be as I thought. Being up and about and handling the kids’ needs slowed the contractions a good deal. And when we began to school at the table- Saxon math effectively killed them cold. It was beautiful outside. My friend Laura suggested a walk. So after math the kids and I walked to the neighborhood park (a lot shorter a walk compared to yesterday’s “labor inducing” park walk). We returned home to lunch and a nap. Once I had the little girls asleep (and Samantha creatively filling a journal at the kitchen table) I sent the boys over to their friend’s house to play with star wars Legos. I took a short nap. Contractions returned. Irregular but strong. They felt really lower-back-ish and rocking my hips forward and back and especially tucking my sacrum forward helped take that pain away. I got up and finished some laundry. More contractions. I decided to check on my cervix. It was so different and completely foreign to me! It felt like a street with a manhole cover missing- and in the opening of the manhole I felt what could be described as one of those red “simple” buttons on the staples commercials. And when I pressed it in, I could feel the baby’s head. When I took my fingers out I looked at them and it was about 2 inches between them. I texted Chris telling him that I was 4-5 and maybe he should come home. Thinking about his long commute and the possibility of driving in labor during rush hour got me a little worried. But I still wasn’t sure this was it.
My friend Michelle (dolphin’s godmother) called and while on the phone with her the contractions seemed to get curiously more regular. I had to put the phone down to breathe through a few and sitting on the toilet’s open seat during the contraction’s peak felt nice. The girls woke up and I decided I’d start a movie for them, put the chicken in the oven (I think at this point it was only 4PM?), and take a bath- which is what I did. In the bath I had a few hard contractions. One contraction gripped me so hard I was wishing the bath had been lined with thick neoprene- it was SO hard a surface to sit on! My butt wanted cushion or an open seat like the toilet! Chris came upstairs and checked on me. He refilled my water and let me know he’d be downstairs if I needed him. I stayed in the bath for a few more contractions- trying to find a comfortable space. I ended up getting out and going back to the toilet. While on the toilet I checked my cervix again. I think my heart flipped a bit when I couldn’t find the sides. It was so open I had to feel twice to see if what I was feeling was surely what I was feeling. Chris must’ve heard me get out so he came up to check on me. He came into the bathroom as I held up my fingers.
“How many centimeters is this?” It looked to me to be about 3 inches. What was that conversion again?
“Big. We need to go, NOW.”
He told me to get dressed while he took the girls to join the boys at Joyce’s house.
“There is chicken in the oven!!!” I yelled after him.
“It’s too late for that. I’ll give her money to order pizza.”
He was back quickly and started packing his bag before I had even figured out what to wear. He asked me if I wanted to pack mine. I remember making a face and thinking, do I have to? I didn’t want to go anywhere so I told him I wasn’t sure what to pack. I kind of threw a coming home outfit in for both “dolphin” and I and Chris zipped it up. I didn’t want to get dressed. I kept looking at my choices of clothes and thinking “hmm, now, what outfit should I wear so I am most comfortable birthing a baby in a car?” Pants simply would NOT do. I finally pulled on a summer dress.
My mind wrestled with itself. “What?! Stay home you fool! Or at least go to the nice shiny fancy hospital 6 miles away!”
“Well, what if I have a lot longer to labor? What if I get to that nice shiny hospital and I stall? Then I’m stuck on the turf of the intervention train, with no water birth at my disposal.”
“You think you are going to stall? You are WAY past stalling sister! You can’t even find your shoes without breathing through a contraction!”
Panic set in. Margaret called while I was standing in the kitchen getting my phone and purse together. I almost whined to her “I don’t think I’m going to make it!!!”
“Is your water broken?”
“No”
“Then you still may have some time”
She spoke so confidently and calmly I immediately calmed down. But in the background I could hear her getting things ready for her to leave and meet us down at the hospital- the one that isn’t 6 miles away.
“Ok. I can do this.” I told Chris. “Did you turn off the oven?”
“Yes. Let’s go!”
On the way I tried to call the midwives. All the choices that the automated person was giving me just served to frustrate me. I thought they were speaking in a circular language. After my second call I gave the phone to Chris and he immediately patched through to the answering service. He made it look so easy! When did he learn to decipher circles? As we headed south I was thankful that the contractions had spaced out. But I knew we had a long drive ahead of us and it was just now 5 o’ clock. As we accessed 85-south I noticed terrible storm clouds gathering over in the direction of downtown.
We had the sunroof opened but soon had to shut it because the rain picked up. Halfway down 85 the contractions really picked back up too. I unbuckled and turned to face backwards over the seat for a lot of them. I faced each contraction to the tune of the annoying “your belt is unbuckled!!!” alarm. My face would get really hot after each one so Chris had the heat and the cool air alternating at intervals. Between Beaver Ruin and the connector I kind of lost sense of time and place. I was so intensely focused on making the contractions ineffective. At some point inside the perimeter the rain became so thick I felt I had to keep my belt on and facing forward which was fine- turning backward in the car was nauseating. I wasn’t sure if the nausea was car-sickness or transition. I grabbed a towel from the back seat and held it in my lap. Chris was doing such a great job driving and keeping us safe. When we reached the connector I felt the baby make a downward movement and I rejected the whole motion. Out loud I said “no, don’t do that- stay up- Lord help this baby stay up.” Between contractions I told Chris to get off at the north avenue exit and take a left. When we passed the 10th, 14th, 17th street exit traffic came to a slow slow crawl.
“I should have gotten off at that exit”, Chris lamented.
He carefully pulled over into the emergency lane and we crawled a little faster. We got to the North Avenue exit and all the lanes going left were packed- and the overpass looked the same. I briefly entertained taking a right and heading to Georgia Tech to deliver. I must have been in irrational transition –land for that to be a viable option. The contractions on the North Ave exit ramp started to get really pushy and I felt my voice descending into grunts. Uh-oh. Keep it up- don’t go down. Don’t drop down. My mantra sounded like this. The surface streets with the bumping and the maneuvering made my contractions really pick up in intensity. I remembered something Margaret said on the phone before we left. Keep your breathing shallow. Pant pant pant . And during the peak of the contraction the skin of my lower abs and back felt as if they were on fire. The feeling was so new and curious.
We proceeded in the stop-and-go traffic getting stopped at what seemed like EVERY traffic light. At one point I said “boulevard should be the next light- take a right”. But it wasn’t.
“NOOOOO” I cried. “It’s the next one”. But it wasn’t. “UNGHHH!!!” Stay up! Stay up! Don’t go down yet!
We finally made our way into the drive through for the main entrance(Chris says that it was about 6:15). Thankfully there was a roof over our heads as we got out because the storm was still raging. I held onto the towel, grabbed my phone, and my pre-registration paper. Chris came around and helped me out of the car. I was having a contraction and didn’t want to move my hips so I kind of floated up the stairs hanging on his shoulder and walking on the very very tips of my toes. He floated me into the lobby and I found a not so thickly cushioned bench. I sat sideways while he asked for a wheelchair. The lady behind the information desk said very blankly would be 30 minutes.
“Call for one NOW!” he said. “Where is the ER?”
“Just through those doors.”
Chris pushed through the doors. I looked back at the car- we aren’t in the best part of town for a new model Honda to be left engine running, doors open. The lobby was relatively empty but for a few people. Some people were waiting and some people were walking through. It was all very anti-climactic and looking back it would have been fitting to have some elevator music playing. Chris came back through the doors with no wheelchair.
“What about the car?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about that.”
“Go park it- I’m fine” I said. I was between contractions- basking in the fake fluorescent light of a hospital- finally. I NEVER would have thought fluorescent lights would be so comforting.
While Chris was parking the car I spotted the elevators from my seat. I stood up and began walking quickly but not so quick as to cause a contraction toward the doors.
On my way past the desk I ask “what floor is L&D?”
“7”
“Thanks”
Providentially, an elevator was already open so I quickly made my way in and pressed 7.
As the doors closed I heard a male’s voice yell “we got a wheelchair!!!”
Too late buddy. And you BETTER not stop this elevator.
The elevator was quick- much quicker than the elevator that takes me to the midwives' office- and I was out on the 7th floor looking for signs to point me in some direction. I should have paid more attention during the tour! Where was the nurses’ station?!?!? I couldn’t find signs. Chris says there were signs but I don’t think my mind was working. The only signs I saw were in Spanish I think. I chose a direction and took two steps but the decision began to not feel right. Right then a contraction hit and I panicked. I could NOT remain standing. I put down my phone, the towel, and my registration papers and I got on hands and knees on the shiny linoleum white floor. A man sitting in the waiting room asked me if I needed help.
I nodded vigorously and my contraction tone turned to deep long grunts. “UNGHHHHH !!!! “ You can’t deliver in the elevator bay!!! You made it all this way!!! I thought. Nurses found me and helped me into the wheelchair. I scrambled for my pre-registration paper- I did NOT want to be questioned about insurance providers before this baby came out. In the wheelchair I couldn’t sit in it straight so I sat sideways on my left hip. As they pushed me one nurse asked “what baby is this for you, hon?”
“Eight”
The pushing got faster.
We got to a room. It wasn’t ready. We found another room that was supposedly ready and I was helped out of the chair.
“Do you want to wear your dress or this gown?”
Decisions decisions.
“Yes. NO!!!!!” I pulled off my dress, they threw on the gown.
“We need to get a strip so I’m going to put these belts on you.
I was on hands and knees in the bed saying “NOOOOO!!!”
They put on the belts and started the strip (records indicate that this happened at 6:33). Chris came in the room at this point. He was standing between the foot of the bed and the bathroom.
In the past he has started waiting in the waiting room during pushing. But I had no support- everyone in the room was a stranger. So I told him to come up by the head of the bed. He came over to me and stood by the head of the bed.
After another grunty contraction the nurse said “we need to check you to make sure this baby doesn’t come on his own”
Huh? “NOOOOO!!!” what did she say to me? How else is this baby going to come but on his own?
The midwife made it into the room. I had never had an appointment with her but I had talked on the phone with her before. She checked me and said “the baby is right there.”
Someone else said “we don’t have time to fill the pool”
I think my non-birthing sarcastic self would have said “no, really, I’ll wait- just let me cross my legs.” But instead, my birthing self said “UNGHHHH!!!” in sync with my next contraction. Baring down was answered with a POP! My water broke with such force it hit the underside of the sheet that was thrown on top of me with a hard “SPLASH!!!”
“Ah, that’s nice” I said- the relief was immediate. Immediate and VERY short lived.
Now for the baby.
I began to push. I never have been so vocal in any of my births. I screamed. I yelled. I looked at Chris and felt sorry that he had to see me in such anguish. His face. Ugh. His classic stoicism was there- but it was paper thin. I wanted to be through with pushing. I bared down but felt the “ring of fire”. I stopped pushing. I reminded myself of Ina Mae’s sphincter law. Relax your face and neck- loosen the edges of your mouth. I quickly loosened my mouth and blew out making the sound of a horse with my loose lips. The burning went away and I began to push again. My legs pushed straight- I needed some leverage, something to push against. The midwife was very hands off, which was nice. She did step in and say, “I need your leg over here to make room for the baby”
His head came out with the next contraction. And then half of his body. I asked “do you see his head?”
“He’s halfway out; I’m waiting on you to push the rest of him.”
The next push gave me this feeling that a long long baby just kept piling out. I kind of crawled backwards like a crab up to the head of the bed as he came out. The midwife put him low on my chest- the cord was short. He was glorious. Completely covered in lanugo- completely. Hair. Screaming. Warm. Long toes. Good lungs. The cord was long enough for him to reach my breast and I offered it. He didn’t immediately latch on but he seemed happy just being there.
The midwife called his birth at 6:45.
The room wasn’t ready for him. There were no blankets, towels, diapers. My midwife was a one-woman show. Between the birth and the placenta she was buzzing about the room setting things up. I’m pretty sure Margaret arrived before the afterbirth. She took my camera and began snapping pictures. These first pictures will be cherished!






I was still reeling. What chaos my body had been through over the last hour and a half. I’m sure if I wasn’t high on birth I could have heard my body screaming. The muscles in my butt and lower back were sure to be sore tomorrow- from just trying to hold the baby back and up. After the midwife showed me the tree of life formed by the vessels of the placenta she checked my perineum for tears. It was intact- a relief to be sure. She then gave me a shot of pitocin in my right thigh saying that since it was my 8th baby my uterus may need help getting back to regular size.
John’s godmother, Michelle(the one I spoke to on the phone seemingly hours and hours ago) showed up soon after Margaret. She battled traffic for TWO hours to get there. She got to hold him- he whom she had prayed for so long. I’m so thankful for her prayers and constant encouragement.




I wasn’t able to really eat the hospital snack bag. It was too sugary and the post-birth cramps were strong enough to irritate my stomach. My parents stopped by Outback Steakhouse on the way to the hospital and got Chris and I each a steak/potato/salad dinner. I took a Motrin and then inhaled my dinner. We hung out in the delivery room for a couple hours, waiting for the hospital to get me and john into their system. Once they loaded us up we were moved to the “mother/baby” floor for the rest of our stay.
Chris’ parents arrived as we were making the move and visited for a little while before heading north to pick up the kids from Joyce's house. I had texted her a picture and his name so she could show the kids- who were going to visit their newest baby brother the next morning.
When I met with the midwife 24 hours later she mentioned he was “sunny side up”. The birth position explains the back burning contractions. It explains how I was able to not have a baby in the car. It explains the prodromal labor.

john cornelius-
born 11/22/11
at 6:45 pm
weighing in at 8lb15oz (probably nine pounds at birth but he peed on me right before they weighed him)
20.5 inches (but he was 22 inches at margaret's office yesterday- pretty impressive if he grew an inch and a half in 6 days!)

george's birthstory

monday june 14th 2004 san diego california


my brother came with me to the birthcenter for the ultrasound.


"ultrasound is a routine procedure after your due date. we just want to make sure everything is still ok."


my midwife, sarah, had been such a companion during my gestation, answering silly questions as well as dispelling genuine anxiety with knowledge beyond her years.


"try to scooch your pants down farther," the ultrasound tech said as she squirted more goo all over my large belly. i tried to maneuver under the this paper sheet. if chris had time to take off from work he would have come with me. but as it was, kevin was visiting and delighted to assist me.


"this is my brother," i felt the need to introduce the u/s tech to my brother standing sheepishly by the bed.


"oh!" she understood my need for more privacy and held the sheet as i edged my pants down farther.


everything checked out ok so we were back in the rental convertible black anniversary edition mustang. we drove along scenic mission bay on the way home. we had the top down and i was quietly feeling a contraction that was "different than the others". i had had a couple "different" contractions just after sarah had played with my membranes.


"i think it will be this week." i said as i gazed across the blue water toward immaculata's blue dome. my heart flew at the realization of the nearness. i was exactly 41 weeks. all my previous pregnancies had to be induced for various reasons. the first because i was a scared first timer and did whatever the doctors told me to do. the second time around i vowed to be stronger and tell them i would go when i was ready, but her fluid was dangerously low and not knowing any better i was sent to the hospital that day. the htird time around they did a u/s at 42 weeks and sent me to the hospital saying the baby was too big and given more time would have a hard time coming out. i admit that they scared me.


this time was going to be different. sarah said my carvix was "favorable". and if today didn't work i was scheduled for accupuncture wednesday. the birthcenter's policy on going post dates was that they hand you over to the backup doctor at 42 weeks and you have a standard hospital delivery. that wasn't for me this time. i was going on my own. i was amped. we pulled into the drive and my sister, christina, had the kids outside playing.


that night we had chris's grilled steak and my baked potatoes. it was a great meal. my sister had been timing my contractions and i told her that they weren't increasing.


"i'll let you know when to start timing again." she put her journal and pen away and started clearing the table. i noticed the wine bottle was empty and regretted not having had a glass. i needed some sleep and thought the wine would make the nagging early contractions slow enough for a short rest. i went to sleep around 11 and put chris's cell phone on my side of the bed. i wanted to use his cell phone as a clock as we don't have one in the bedroom.


tuesday june 15th 2004


at about 2:30 am i started having a hard time sleeping through the contractions. when they woke me i would look at the time. chris, in his sleep began drawing me closer and cuddling. the cuddling made the contractions oddly more extreme.


"how far apart are they?" 4:00 and he was awake.


"six minutes" i got out of bed and started packing. i was nagged by a feeling of anxiety. will i have enough time?


despite the probiotic diet i had adopted at 30 weeks, i again tested positive for group be strep. the birthcenter's policy regarding GBS+ patients is administering two full doses of antibiotics before the birth. if two full doses aren't administered then after the birth me and baby would have to go to the hospital and stay the night for observation. i wanted to avoid the hospital as much as possible but didn't want to go to the birthcenter under false labor. i checked myself. i was definitely dilated more than before i laid down for bed and i was soooo stretchy. we were going to the birthcenter. it was 5:00 by then. i did time zone math and decided it was probably ok to call margaret. i told her i was going in. she told me to walk around the car as chris pumped gas. "i can't believe you didn't fill the tank last night!" she said before hanging up.


we arrived at the birthcenter with roberta attending a woman who delt with her contractions in a very verbal way, in spanish. in between dealing with the hispanic woman, she worked me up. blood pressure, temperature, the works. she started the first dose of antibiotics at 5:20. kevin showed up and roberta called sarah. sarah showed up 30 minutes later looking fresh and ready. she checked me- 7cm. she told me maybe a bath would slow me down. the second dose of antibiotics beeded to be administered 4 hours after the first so if i didn't want to go to the hospital i needed to hold off dilation for the next four hours...until 9:20! this seemed impossible. my last two labors were faster than four hours. but, i reminded myself, that was with pitocin.


i sat in the tub and held off the contractions as best i could. they just kept coming. i finally decided that if they weren't going to stop then at least i could try to make them ineffective. all the things i leard about images and visualization i used- except backward. i always imagine a flower opening and blossoming just as i was wanting to do- open and blossom. this time i did it in reverse. i imagined gates closing. flowers closing. myself closing. it was the hardest thing i've ever had to do. but, mind over matter. i had my good friend cj sit with me during the next few hours. she brought some fresh cut watermelon for me to gnosh on. her coffee was so fragrant, i kept focusing on the vanilla hazelnut scent. we chatted it up while she sat in various positions, trying to find a comfortable place for her 7 month pregnant body. roisin(ro-sheen, gaelic for "little rose") and maire (mora- gaelic for "mary") came at around 7:30. roisin brought isabella, almost a year and maire brought mairin (maureen- "little mary") just two months old and born at the same birth center.


"they feel so pushy" i remember saying to sarah while she checked the baby's heart rate. it was increasingly getting harder and i looked over at her wrist. 1 1/2 hours to go! i began to lose hope but then regained control. instead of "open" for my mantra, it was "go away". i hummed it as the contration tried to work. with 30 minutes to go i heard roisin, maire, and kevin doing morning prayer in the bedroom. maire began singing. she has the most beautiful voice and calmed me deeply. what great friends! they had been there for my pregnancy supporting me with wise advice and Christian companionship. i will forever be in debt to them.


at 9:15 they began trying to get the second dose in. they tried 6 times to get a vein. i have horrible veins.


"you stopped praying" i yelled into the other room. they began praying again and finally, on the seventh try, they got a vein... in my foot. with one leg propped up on the edge of the tub, the antibiotics befan to drip. with all the pressure off, i was free to give birth. i got out of the tub once the drip was pulled and began to walk around. cj had to leave to take her husband to work. what a help she had been! i wished so badly that she could be there. she said she would return soon. i sat on the labor ball. i walked around. i tried laying in various positions on the bed. it was so strange. all this time i had been fighting against the tide, trying to hold back the flood. my body shook under the strain. now i was free to labor, and i couldn't do it. i had such a hard time switching my mind from stopping labor to letting it go. i see it as the toughest mental work i've done in my entire life. sarah sensed my anxiety over the situation and suggested she break my water. "that would make your labor stronger."


warm slush...then "you've got some staining". the amniotic fluid was lightly tinted with meconium. she said it wasn't a big deal and got the nurse to set up a suction table in case they needed it. my labor picked up immediately. sarah warned against getting back in the tub. something about meconium and water birth. i didn't quite understand but trusted her enough to make the decisions while i was so focused. i spent a few contractions on the bed on elbows and knees. after one contraction the baby rose up into my ribs, twisted, and then descended again. it happened so fast i almost lost my balance. after that everything started happening too fast. my contractions made me look for a little space. a nook. i flipped in the bed like a fish. i just couldn't find a comfortable position. i wanted that nook. "it's coming soon" i told the midwife, as if she needed to know. all my body was screaming it without words.

the midwife watched me during the next contraction. she noticed i was holding back.

"you could get back in the tub if you'd like. the amniotic fluid has cleared up."

i felt so relieved. not only had all my visualizations lef me to a waterbirth, the tub would provide the "nook" that my body wanted. i climbed into the freshly poured tub and sat facing sideways. sarah leaned in and told me to move lengthwise. my nook! i needed to be pushed into a squat, but she said she didn't have enough room to work. it was too late, nook or no, this baby was coming.

"someone get in here!" i yelled. roisin shook off her flip flops and promptly sat on the edge of the tub so i could rest on her legs. i felt a wave hit me and i bared down hard. a release and then a head full of hair foloowed quickly by a little gray body slithered out. sarah and i fished the baby out and onto my chest. A BOY! the white lanugo ran into all of his crevices and his nails were so long they curved over the tips of his fingers. he was not bald. far from it. his hair was dark and thick, and so long it covered his ears and forehead. his body surged from gray to pink, beginning at his heart and working it's way down his limbs. i told someone to get chris. he came in beaming. he was right for the forth time in a row. a boy.

"look at all the blood!" henry's eyes were wide.

"she's so small!" samantha said, smiling

"it's a boy, samantha" we would have to remind her countless times over the next week or so.
max just stood and smiled, taking in everything around him. the cord stopped pulsing and christina used some scizzors to cut the this rubbery tube. after he nursed for a minute or two the placenta was ready to come out. chris held him while we waited on the afterbirth. sarah caught the placenta in a metal mixing bowl and helped me to the bedroom and into bed. she had to check if there was any tearing. relief came when she said i check out ok.
"just a little skin mark. nothing to worry about." chris came and sat on the edge of the bed next to me.
"have we thought of a name? aimee, the licensed midwife asked.
"george," we said at the same time.
"did you think of a middle name?" i was just as curious. it was chris' job to think of a middle name. he hadn't thought of one.
"i think george aloysius is good." he smiled and christina and i laughed. the night before as christina and i picked after dinner we saw on the calendar that aloysius gonzaga's feast day would be next week.
"george aloysius, that's a good name!" although i thought so, i didn't think chris would agree so i didn't bring it up to him. it turns out, he overheard the conversation.
we stayed at the birthcenter for about 5 more hours, guests coming and going. some of them bearing gifts. jamba juice and a whole foods deli sandwich was my meal of choice. while aimee checked on george at the foot of the bed the room began to tremble as if a huge truck were driving down the hallway. everyone in the room casts glances at everyone else.
"that was an earthquake!" someone announced.
how appropriate. on the day my little california baby was born, the earth shook with joy.

the 'what comes after birthstory' of mary jane

with mary jane i had something called placenta previa. i needed a cesarean section to safely deliver her. i at first decided that maybe my doctor was just scaring me, that i could possibly have her vaginally and they weren't telling me the whole truth. i researched placenta previa and whilst reading ina may's guide to childbirth i found out that placenta previa was one of the only reasons why cesarean sections should be used. ina may gaskin is someone who i've come to trust in regards to birth. she has a wealth of knowledge and most importantly believes in the woman's body and ability to birth(something we've been doing for awhile now right?)
it seems that some women believe that c-sections are a way to avoid the pains of childbirth. it also seems that some women go into a hospital birth thinking that "c-sections are only for women who want them. i don't want one, therefore, i won't get one." sadly, both of these statements are not true. i will deal with the first statement in this post.

what comes after the c-section
so many women love to gather around and hear or tell a birthstory. it must be hardwired in us. it seems nobody goes into detail about what happens after, especially when it's a c-section.
i want to give a warning- some details may be too graphic in the following story.

after they wheeled me into recovery i was very very groggy. it was about 10:30 in the morning and i just kept falling asleep in mid sentence, talking with my parents. chris was away with mary jane, weighing her, getting her a bath because she was covered in blood. i really don't remember when they finally brought her in. there was a nurse there who had had a few c-sections and knew how to position me. they moved me to the maternity ward soon after. some morphine was hooked onto my iv pole. i was to push the button everytime i needed it. it was on a clock and wouldn't let me push it more that every 15 or 30 minutes. i remembered reading that you should push the button everytime that you could because if you waited to feel the pain, it'd be a tad too late. plus, the overwhelming pain would cause your milk to not come in so well(if you planned to breastfeed- and i did). they also told me that i would be on a liquid diet until i could go #2. this wasn't a big deal. my stomache was a bit of a mess anyway. it became a big deal later in the day when i was hungry and all they gave me was some beef broth and juice. towards dinner time the nurse brought in some percocet. i took it while visiting with fr. joe and fr. kevin. rose called just as the drugs took effect. i had to hang up because everything was getting very heavy and green. some visitors came just in time to hold a bedpan while i puked all my liquid diet into it. it shouldn't be called puking. i think puking requires stomache muscles that haven't been seperated and wrenched out of the way. so it just spilled out of my mouth instead of being pushed out of my mouth.
i couldn't move my legs for a good deal of the first day. my left leg actually didn't move for almost 24 hours after the section. i remember when the anesthesiologist was administering my epidural he spoke to me about which leg was feeling numb. my left leg was numb WAY before my right leg, so i'm fairly certain my left side got a double dose- if that's possible. and since my left leg wouldn't move, they wouldn't remove the catheter. how pleasant.
then the gas pains kicked in. since my body cavity was opened in the surgery, naturally air was trapped inside. so there were bubbles of air drifting around my body, causing painful pressure in weird places. the area where my neck meets my shoulder is one that comes to mind. that was brutal. i had to lay flat in hopes to dislodge it.
once i could get up and the catheter was removed i could get up- or could i? i resembled a hunchback when i attempted my first walk to the restroom. this was going to be the way i walked for almost 4 days. i had to force myself to walk erect.
i was worried about coming home because i knew george was still too young to understand that i needed to heal before big hugs could be enjoyed. i was also not allowed to climb stairs for 2 weeks(i cheated on that bit and paid for it by almost fainting in the middle of the stairs and then bleeding pretty badly for a good hour).
once i started eating more solid food it was difficult to go to the bathroom. since my muscles were shot and i had fresh stitches keeping things together on my lower abdomen i was worried about pushing too hard. plus all the pain meds added on top of being pretty sedentary made for some pretty hard movements.

i've heard that there are some areas in the US where c/s are high- in affluent areas, that the moms are "too posh to push". they elect to have a c-section.
well, i can attest to the fact that post c/s is ANYTHING but posh. it's major surgery. nothing to be taken lightly. i'd rather go through labor and delivery from start to finish 5 times back to back than go through a c/s again. of course, we have to consider the health of the baby- that is, if you trust the person who's informing you. there's alot to be said for truly informed consent. but that's for another post.

birth story and such.

ok, i revamped the blog. we are now using real names. for some reasons, mostly bc i kept forgetting who was who. i really like the hobbit names and i liked the strength of chris's elven name.
that's not the only thing new. we also have a new baby girl. a new princess of the King. God has blessed us with a sweet baby girl we namd frances marie. that's right, we kept with the frances/francis name and chose marie for a middle name bc she waited patiently to be born on our ladies birthday. she surprised us all by coming early....well, i could go into details while george tries his best to add to the stitches in his upper lip by pestering mary jane, but i think i'll just cut and paste my birth story... so here it is....
The novella of Frances Marie’s birth

Frances’ birthstory begins much different than the stories of her siblings. On Friday, September 5th I walked the kids to the neighborhood pool. We swam in the late afternoon sun, having such a good time I wished it would never end. George was working on perfecting his timing in taking breaths. Mary jane was working on surfacing. Henry carried me around the pool a few times feeling so strong before he and I raced across the pool sideways mimicking Phelps’ Olympic performance. Samantha taught Max how to shallow dive into the pool. I had to cut it short because I knew Chris would be home soon and wonder where his family was. I loaded Mary Jane into the stroller and we took off up the big hill. As I walked I kept feeling trickling between my legs. I kept walking, thinking that I just hadn’t toweled off good enough. When the trickling seemed to come in mini-bursts I got curious and pulled my dress up enough to look. Twin streams of pink liquid, one down each inside leg, coursed towards my ankles. I pushed the stroller towards the curb and sat down by a mailbox. It was about 6:30pm Friday night. I was 37 weeks and 3 days.
“Samantha, go get daddy. I need him to come pick me up.”
“Why?” She looked at me. “Ok”
Samantha raced on foot while Max peddled madly up the hill.
Pinky, a sweet autistic 10 year old boy that frequently haunts our house came peddling up the hill from his house across from the pool. He looked upset, an emotion he very rarely lets known. He babbled something about pushing a boy and his mother calling. He sat next to me while we waited for Chris, who came only a minute later.
“Hey,” Chris called through the open car window.
“My water broke.” My water has NEVER broken outside of active labor of it’s own accord. With Henry the doctor broke my water 30 minutes before he started pitocin. With Samantha I don’t even remember my water breaking with her- but she was a mizoprostol induction, so I’m fairly certain it broke during labor. Max’s water broke just before his head came out. The midwife broke George’s water in an attempt to get things rolling when labor seemed to have petered out. Mary Jane’s ample supply gushed in a seemingly neverending flow all over the doctor’s gloved hands as he made the initial uterine incision.
Chris put Mary Jane in the car. She was so jazzed to not have to sit in a carseat. I grabbed a towel from the stroller before he folded it and put it in the back of the blue van. I put the towel on the front seat and sat down gingerly. I was a bit worried something was wrong because I had always thought amniotic fluid was clear. I had received news the day before that I was Group B Strep negative for the first time since the birth of my oldest. This news suddenly seemed much more important to me now. I was incredibly grateful.
“Call the midwife when we get home.”
I made my way upstairs as quickly as I could with my phone in hand. I took off my dress and suit, which had a tiny amount of pink mucus in the bottom. I put on a pad and a clean dress, the one I traditionally wore to the hospital when it was time to have a baby.
I called the midwife. No answer- so I left a message and then called my sister. She told me that it was ok to be pink. I calmed down.
“Your labor may take off, give yourself 30 minutes to see.” I hung up and started getting things ready. Chris was on his phone getting his parents to come earlier than expected. They were coming this weekend anyway to an interior design expo. Chris’s sister, Leslie also wanted to be there for the birth. She was going to stand by Samantha’s side while she witnessed the baby’s birth.
The midwife called back and asked how things were. I told her and she said to keep her updated. She said she’s comfortable going 24 hours with ruptured membranes.
The kids were getting hungry and I began to assign dinner chores. Max shredded the cheese while Mary Jane proceeded to eat pepperoni by the slice. I rolled the dough out and spread the sauce, thinking, This baby could be here tonight! What luck! To finally go early and not be uncomfortable a day longer.
I don’t remember eating much. I was just grabbing a piece here and there between getting stuff done. After dinner Chris headed to cvs to buy some latex gloves. I wanted to check to see where my cervix lay. I posted my news on the ICAN board and immediately good wishes started flowing in. Some advice I planned on following came in as well, if nothing starts, get to bed early tonight. After I checked my cervix and found it none too favorable, I began getting ready for bed.
“Early” turned out to be an hour later than I’m used to. I had a glass of wine and turned in. I slept off and on. No contractions coming, the air feeling still and expectant.
“well, at this rate I may be able to watch the kids in their first soccer game.” The thought helped me get back to sleep.

“Anything?” chris asked sleepily in the early morning light.
“Nothing. I’m going for a walk.” I grabbed a Gatorade, put ten drops each of black and blue cohosh in and shook. I shoved the Ipod buds into my ears and took off around the block, determined to walk every stitch of concrete in our 400 house subdivision. I changed my mind 2 miles and a full pad later. I needed to refuel.
Chris’s dad and he had made a nice breakfast and the family fell to. We decided to pack a bag for the hospital and get it ready so we could head to the hospital after the games.
The day was hot and bright. I made sure to drink plenty, all the while adding the homemade tincture my herbalist friend had made for me. All during the games only braxton hicks contractions came and didn’t get stronger or closer. The games just served to make me hot, sticky, and uncomfortable. I decided we weren’t going to the hospital. We were going to eat something, take a shower, and sleep. Which is what we did. Little did I know it was the last time I would feel full, rested, and clean for a long, LONG time.
After our nap I followed an herbal protocol from my doula. One dropper full of blue cohosh under the tongue on the hour, one dropper full of black cohosh on the half hour. After a few hours of that with no results we decided to head into the hospital. I hugged the boys goodbye and got into the car with Samantha, Leslie (my sister in law) and Chris. We got to the hospital at about 8:00pm. I hadn’t pre-registered because I didn’t count on needing to until I was at least 39 weeks. I filled out the paperwork quickly and we walked to L&D. I checked in at the nurses station. They asked me if I was a waterbirth, no doubt trying to decide which room I’d take. I was tempted to take the midwife’s advice and not tell them I was a VBAC(Vaginal Birth After Cesaeran) but I couldn’t. The thought flashed through my head that once they found out, I would be stuck in the room with a nice tub and not be able to use it. Also, I would be taking up the room with the nice big tub that someone else who wasn’t a VBAC could and should be using. So I told the truth.
They set me up, took blood and left bruises, Set up the hep lock for the Lactated Ringers and Pit, and asked plenty of questions that didn’t really make sense at the time…like, “how do you learn best? Listening, doing or watching???” how does that relate to why I’m here again?
My sister/pediatrician Margaret, husband, and son arrived. Her son was all over the place taking things in because.. “I want to be an ER doctor.” The midwife came to check me and pronounced that I was 2cm and posterior which was no news to me. I asked her to check to see if in fact my water broke. I felt the need to prove to all the doubters in the room. She checked. It didn’t turn blue to mean my water broke it was more of a green color. She used the other tail of the paper and made me cough. Water came out in a mini-gush and it turned blue.
Chris and my brother in law went to get some food. My sister Christina arrived and brought some snacks for people. The midwife gave the orders to start the pit and not to go past 10 miliunits. They started low and increased 2 miliunits every 15 minutes. I was at 10 miliunits by about 11pm. Everyone started getting restless and wanting to see action or go to bed. I sensed it. Samantha made her bed in the inflatable birth tub that lay propped up sideways on the wall. My brother in law took my nephew home. Christina left and said she’d be back after 1pm tomorrow when she got out of class.
We all settled in to “sleep” and turned the lights down low. The nurse, Sharon, was awesome. She kept propping me with pillows and making sure I was as comfortable as I could be barring those cursed monitor belts. At one point she came in and asked me if I wouldn’t mind laying on my right side. That laying on my left side was causing some minor decels in the baby’s heart rate. It was great news because after months of being vigilant about laying on my left but preferring my right, I could finally do what my body desired.
I finally got a good stretch of sleep and woke to the nurse checking the strip.
“Did you turn off the pit so I could get some sleep?”
“No. You’re still on 10.” Disappointing news to say the least. Labor was not picking up like everyone thought it would.
“Your midwife is going to get more aggressive with the pit in the morning, so get some rest while you can.”

So the morning came. It didn’t feel like Sunday without all the hustling and finding shoes and combing hair to prepare for mass. It felt like stagnant air sitting there, refusing to budge no matter how many fans you turn on. Leslie and Chris each “slept” on pullout chair beds, Margaret “slept” on two chairs pushed together, strategically placed near the monitor strip. Samantha was the only one who didn’t budge all night. The birthing pool turned out to be used very well. I decided to sneak something to eat before anyone woke. Christina left a banana on the rolling table near my bed so I stealthily snuck bites of it’s goodness for breakfast.
The day shift nurse came in and announced that the midwife okayed going to 16. We proceeded as usually up 2 every 15 minutes. 16 wasn’t much different than 10. Occasionally I had to breathe deeper but no focusing was needed. I decided to call the doula. The midwife came in a little while later and tried to snag the bag of waters to make a complete break, as I was just leaking a little. Her thought was that a complete break would start the ball rolling. My right leg was bent so my foot was close to my bottom with my knee sticking out over the edge of the bed. The midwife sat by my shin and worked the hook. I had to go somewhere else in my head- I was so tempted to kick her off the bed. The pain was excruciating. She couldn’t quite snag the bag of waters so she gave up.
My angel arrived a little after noon on Sunday bringing aromatheraputic oils, essential oils, and homemade juice. She had under her arm, an eggplant colored birthing ball. Nadine was going to be my pillar of strength and voice of reason for the next 12plus hours.
In the room at this point were Leslie, Margaret, Nadine, and my sister Denise who arrived and was grading papers quietly in the corner. Chris had all the kids (our own plus some cousins) at Wills Park down the street and was feeding them lunch. I sipped the juice and chatted quietly with my sisters. Nadine massaged my lower back with clarion sage essential oil to bring on stronger contractions.
I needed to take a nap and laid down for a much needed rest. I was left in the room alone and got some more rest. I should add that rest in the hospital is not really rest at all. It’s just pretending to sleep so people can leave me alone. So I rested. I actually probably fell asleep because Leslie told me when I awoke that I was sighing. I think that’s when the contractions were starting to be felt. The midwife came and checked my cervix at around 5. It was 4 cm.
Everyone decided to go to Little Azio’s for dinner in Crabapple. Samantha looked torn. She couldn’t decide whether she should risk leaving or not. I said that it was up to her and no one could make that call but her. She decided to go and hindsight shows us that it wasn’t too bad a decision at all. I was left in the room alone and got some more rest. I should add that rest in the hospital is not really rest at all. It’s just pretending to sleep so people can leave me alone. So I rested. I actually probably fell asleep because Leslie told me when I awoke that I was sighing. I think that’s when the contractions we starting to be felt.
My brother, Fr. Kevin came with mom and dad and brought communion. We had a little communion service right there in the room. During the service I had a few contractions that felt like braxton hicks with an edge. After the service I had a lot of people in the room. It was nice to hang out and chat with everyone. I had missed Kevin while he was away at basic training, and in a few days he would be off to Colorado to finish training for a month before he was then shipped to Iraq.
At about 630 Nadine came close to me and spoke in a low voice.
“I’m giving you until 7:00 to have some good contractions, then I’m kicking everyone out of the room.” She then went to do some reconnaissance at the nursing station. I was totally oblivious to the fact that people in the room were scaring the contractions away. Nadine was so cognizant and so aware. She returned from the nursing station with some information. First, I’d be allowed off the monitors for 15 minutes every hour. No belts, just the IV pole. Second, at the next shift change she would try to secure a “favorable” nurse. The upcoming shift would bring us some good nurses, one really good one and one that wasn’t so favorable. We were hoping we’d get the really open-minded nurse. Seven came and all onlookers left. Contractions really started picking up after that. The shift change brought bad news. The nurse we had hoped for got into a car wreck on the way to work. We ended up with the nurse who carried the rule book under her right arm.
She entered with a commanding presence. She walked in and headed right to the fetal monitors and checked the strip. She wasn’t satisfied with something. She unplugged the telemetry (the wireless monitor that allowed me some mobility) and plugged in the stationary monitor, locking me to the bed in one swift movement. Then things started malfunctioning. She seemed technologically impaired. Nadine joked about this a little, to cut the stiffness in the air. I’m not too sure if it worked at the time, but it laid the groundwork for future interaction.
“Try turning it off then back on”, suggested Margaret, “that’s what I do with my cell phone.”
With the machine rebooted Nadine and I waited quietly, watching for her next step. As she got the blood pressure cuff out I began to feel the beginnings of a contraction.
“Give me a minute?”
“Oh…right.”
She was just checking off things on her “to do” list, oblivious that there was a living breathing person at the end of all the wires and past all the beeps.
Nadine informed her of the agreement about being allowed off the monitors. The nurse looked at us disapprovingly and shook her head.
With the people gone and the pitocin now allowed to be turned up past 20 miliunits, Nadine and I went to work. We walked and talked. Chatting about anything that came into our heads; life, death, children, husbands, poison ivy, food, and religion. I was really thankful for her companionship, her knowledge, and her ability to know what was needed and when. She seemed to know just when to bend over and allow me to brace myself. She moaned with me and swayed with me, and when the contraction ended we resumed our chatting and joking as we walked down the halls. On the maternity hall I was coming down on the backside of a contraction when a nurse came out of a new mother’s room.
“81 wants her baby,” she called out to the nurse behind the desk.
“So do I.” I moaned. We laughed and walked on, dragging the pole, the contractions coming about 3-4 minutes apart.
I ran into some family in the hallway. We chatted for a little. It was getting late and they came to say goodbye. Kids needed to be put to bed. I said goodbye to my kids- Henry and Max were upset at having to leave. George was all smiles and Mary Jane was confused by all the tubes and technology that seemed to be stalking me. All the kids except Samantha left. While in the hallway with my family, my contractions seemed to start to peak, then whisper away like a sneeze that haunts but never actually produces. They felt so curious.
My legs began to feel shaky. I needed nourishment. I needed rest. I began to feel the day would never end. We passed the nurse’s station on the way back to the room. The midwife said she would check me. If I was 6 cm she would turn the pit off. If I was 8-9 she would leave it on. I prayed that it was either one or the other. I returned to my room and sat on the eggplant ball. I was getting exhausted. Feeling fatigue in all corners of my body. I slouched over onto a pile of pillows on the bed. Nadine and the nurse started getting anxious because the baby’s heartrate went low when I slouched. I was so tired. Both the nurse and Nadine requested I spend the next few contractions sitting up. The idea horrified me. What if I can’t do it?
“Couldn’t the monitors just be picking up my heart rate?” I whined.
Chris stood opposite the bed from me scrolling on his Iphone.
“Can you be with her while I take a bathroom break?” Nadine asked Chris.
“Sure.”
For three long contractions and what felt like hours Nadine took a much needed breather. I clung on, determined to handle it on my own. She returned and I climbed into bed, wanting to sleep desperately. I laid on my right side, remembering what Sharon the night nurse said about the heart tones being better that way. The midwife came and checked me. I think it was about 11:30.
“She’s paper thin and 7-8 cm,” she announced. Not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to hear something like, “I’m going to press this “pause” button and let you sleep for about an hour, then I’m going to press this “birth” button and the baby will pop out.”
Between contractions I slept like a rock. My eyes would shoot open as a contraction started to peak. I looked out of the corner of my eye and noticed the midwife dozing with her face propped in her hand. Someone told me that she had been there since Thursday. I also saw Samantha sitting on Leslies lap in a chair in the corner. I closed my eyes immediately. I did not want to lose ground with this labor anymore. I was only going forward.
I started shaking violently between contractions. I tried with all my might to stop them. The midwife calmly and confidently reassured me that shaking was ok. I knew shaking meant that I was close, I just didn’t like the uncontrollable feel of it. Up to this point I had been in control. This lack of control shook me mentally. Nadine laid a cold washcloth on my forehead. It felt so nice and refreshing. I started to feel the need to push on the edge of the contraction but I kept willing it away. I was so tired I didn’t want to even think about pushing. My “oooooh”ing started to turn into “oouhng”-ing. The pushing was coming whether I liked it or not, I just wasn’t going to help it any. I couldn’t.
“It sounds like you want to push,” the midwife noticed.
“I don’t want to push.” “Why?”
“Because I want to sleep.”
“Let’s get her underwear off,” the nurse suggested. I didn’t want to budge.
“Scizzors, just get some scizzors,” I moaned.
“She doesn’t want to move, that’s a good sign.”
Nadine wet a washcloth and poured some peppermint essential oil on it. She placed it on the guardrail that I clung too.
With the next contraction the rulebook nurse says loudly, “I can see head!”
So, here I am. I guess I have to push.
I looked at the clock.
You’ve got to be kidding. It’s Monday!
So I pushed with the next contraction. There was intense pressure, then not so much. I was done! With one push! What mercy God was granting me. Now I can rest!
With my head on the pillow and my eyes shut I hear…
“Feel your baby!”
I reach down to feel the slippery warmth of the babies head, and nothing else.
I have to push more??? the whiney, tired, hungry child inside me complained.
I wanted to throw my head back on my pillow and cry, give up, throw in the peppermint scented towel. Then the light came on. If I push once more, this will all be over and I can finally get some sleep.
“Give us one more push!”
“But it hurts!” I cried as I pushed.
As I pushed and the rest of the baby came sliding out.
“It’s a girl!”
“Daddy, you were wrong!” Samantha took great relish in announcing that fact. She got to cut the cord. The midwife talked to me later and said that I should assure Samantha that it didn’t hurt the baby.
“She just looked so serious, and kind of worried.”
This birth was so different from all the others. With the others it was such an unearthly experience. I was high on my own endorphins with the others. With this one I think I tapped every last reserve of endorphins my body had. I wanted to feel the very life of the baby, smell it’s sweetness, and tell the baby I loved her. Then I desperately wanted someone to hold the baby while I slept.
The midwife dedicated herself to the afterbirth while Chris got to hold the newest person in the room. I looked around at all the people and noticed my mom. I was kind of surprised that my mom was there. She sat quietly in the corner the whole time that I didn’t notice her. My mother in law came in and got to see her new grandbaby before they headed to Alabama. They ended up getting only an hour and a half sleep before work the next day.
I was pretty worried that I tore, she came so fast. When the midwife announced that I didn’t tear I was so relieved. She said that letting my body push her out was gradual enough to gently stretch the skin. She also mentioned that it was so fortunate the baby came when she did, because she was absolutely bone dry- no fluid gushed. Nadine rubbed my aching legs with arnica oil. I suspected they ached from the shaking. Nadine also bought be a blueberry muffin from Harry’s that she brought out. I was so intensely thankful for food I began to eat it too fast. My stomach wouldn’t allow me to finish it, so I wrapped it back up for later.
“What is the baby’s name?” someone asked as I offered the baby the breast.
“Frances,” Chris announced.
“We haven’t thought of a middle name.”
I thought of choosing Chris’s grandmother’s name. Nellie. She died this past August and she was such a wonderful person. But another name kept coming into my mind. September 8th is the Blessed Virgin’s birthday. The baby clearly waited to be born on this day. I felt we needed to honor that. So for the next day or so we talked about the pairing of names. I originally wrote “Frances Nellie-Marie” on the birth certificate form. Chris said she was too small for such a name. He tossed a coin and scratched off Nellie.
So she is…Frances Marie Arendale, but everyone just calls her “Bean”.

There are a few people who need to be mentioned here. I need to remember the role of everyone who made this possible.
The midwife- I honestly believe that few people would have allowed this labor to end in a natural vaginal birth.
Nadine LaFlemme doula- without her support and encouragement I would have gotten lost in laborland and never found my way home
Elaine Mills- for starting ICAN, the place where women can come together with one purpose- to help other women make truly informed decisions.
Maire Orlando- for searching and finding ICAN for me while I was stressing
Everyone else- who prayed for me as well as Frances. Those prayers aided in the outcome. It’s impossible to not see God’s hand in what occurred.


Frances Marie Arendale
8lbs 2oz
19 inches
8/9 apgar- her feet were purple for a bit. ;-)