a birth story.

gentry gayle, 1 minute old.

With the birth of my son quickly approaching, I have been thinking a lot about the birth of my daughter. I have yet to put her birth story into words so sixteen months later- it seems it is time.

I have to preface this by saying that it took 2 years, thousands of dollars, many miles driven, a lot of hormone medicine, and several uncomfortable procedures to FINALLY become pregnant ... Naturally. God works in mysterious ways. We were a couple months out from taking the huge step of doing IVF (invitro fertilization) when BAM! I got pregnant without any meds, any help from a doctor. So needless to say, we were shocked but oh.so.ready. 

I had already decided I wanted to have a natural birth. And was already seeing a midwife throughout the infertility daze.

We quickly signed up for a natural birth class series. I started doing prenatal yoga. I was ready for this. And even though I was sick those first 20 weeks, it hardly mattered. I had fought hard for this feeling of having a baby grow inside me. It was and is magical.

Our due date was April 11, 2013. On April 12th, my husband and I decided to go on an impromptu date. We decided on burgers at Sidebar and a movie at the Kentucky Theater. 

We made it home pretty late that night and I was so ready to dive into bed and get a good night of sleep. But as I started to doze into a state of sleep, I began feeling some tightness in my belly that felt different than the Braxton Hicks contractions I had been having the weeks leading up to this moment. 

I moved to the couch around midnight and spent the night watching TV and dozing in and out of sleep while labor began. By morning, I knew it was real. My contractions had been about 20-30 minutes apart all night and were slowly getting more frequent. Our plan was to labor at home as long as possible so I had no intention of heading to the hospital anytime soon. We stayed in contact with our midwife as I utilized our home during labor. 

At one point, I was outside walking around our backyard and our sweet neighbor came out and asked what I was doing. She couldn't believe I wasn't racing to the hospital but I knew it was not time.

As the day went on, the contractions became even more frequent and more painful, just as they are supposed to. I relaxed in the bath, I ate snacks, watched some golf and then at about 5:30pm, I had a contraction so painful- I knew it was time. I was leaning over the side of our love seat and I yelled out in pain.

The car was packed. Let's go! 

We arrived at the hospital and I had to stop several times on the way up to the birthing center to breathe through contractions. We finally made it and discovered they never received our registration papers. So they start asking me questions much to my dismay. I just wanted beyond those double doors.

After a couple minutes, we were admitted to the one room with a tub. YES! 

I walked in as nurses swirled around me, preparing the room and swoosh! my water breaks! Good timing. I cried to the nurse, "I think I just peed on myself. I can't stop!" She reassured me I did not, in fact, pee myself, my water had just broken.

I anxiously waited for the tub to fill so I could maybe get some relief. They monitored me for a bit and things seemed to be healthily progressing but when they checked my dilation progress, I was only at 3 cm. 3 cm!? I wanted to throw a childish temper tantrum. The contractions were too close and too painful for me to only be at 3 cm. 

I made my way into the tub and stayed there for what seemed like hours. My husband by my side the whole time. Never wavering. Consistently telling me what a great job I was doing.

father and daughter, a new kind of love.

By the time I got out, my body was a prune. They checked me again. No progress.

My patient, amazing nurse and friend, Rachel, was in contact with my midwife this whole time. My midwife eventually decided to offer me some morphine to ease some pain. They were afraid I was getting too weak and tired, having already been in labor for over 20 hours.
I remember rocking back and forth on my yoga ball, my head resting on the edge of the bed, my mind starting to doubt and saying several times "I don't know how much longer I can do this," with tears forming in my eyes. And then my darling Rachel who just so happens to be a doula and massage therapist, suggested I get in the bed and she would rub my feet. I dug deep into my soul and decided the morphine was just not an option for me at this point. But a foot massage, I can do! I got into the bed and she massaged my feet for a while. To this day, I am convinced this was the magic potion I needed. 

I laid on my side to see if I could get some relief. I was checked again. 7 cm this time! Things are happening! And literally, a moment later I felt the urge to push. I told Rachel I was feeling pressure and I couldn't resist the urge to bear down and try to push this baby out. 

The next thing I knew, Rachel and another nurse were preparing to deliver this baby. My midwife was on the way but there was no time to wait for her- this baby was on her way. As I lay on my side, husband cheering me on, holding tight to the side rail of the bed, screaming in a way that I never had before and seemed so out of character for me, Gentry Gayle flew- yes, flew out of my body at 11:57 pm (3 minutes from tax day). I went from 7 cm to a baby in my arms within 40 minutes. If you don't know a lot about birthing rates, this is very rare especially for a first time mama. I pushed maybe three times and there she was. The sweetest little face I had ever seen.

WE did it.

I accomplished what I set out to do- have a natural birth. I felt strong. But I also felt BEAT. Many women told me about this immediate relief/euphoria they felt in the moments after birthing their babies. I didn't feel that so immediately. It wasn't until I was moved into my new room, holding my baby with my husband sitting on the bed with us that I felt ease. My family was a unit of three. It was perfect. And I felt proud of all us.

mother and daughter, a dream come true.

mystery mama to be

One of my greatest pleasures in life is getting a massage. It can be an expensive venture but it is so worth it. I look forward to those appointments like a kid on Christmas Eve. 

My massage therapist, Lauren, is a magical, gorgeous human with such an intuitive spirit. I made an appointment with her about a month ago and could not wait for the day to come. My body was desperate. 

This past Monday came and 6:15 pm could not come quick enough. My husband got home from work in the nick of time for me to leave and I hurried my way across town. 

When I arrived, the woman at the front desk asked if I had come from school. This made me giggle. 'Oh no, I've been out of school for a while and pregnant with my second baby' I replied! Shew, I'm almost 31 years old, I thought. I appreciated her comment. 

Lauren came out to get me and as usual we sat down in the room and began discussing how I was feeling. I told her about my aches and pains. We talked pregnancy and yoga for a minute and then she told me the most amazing thing: A fellow 'mama to be' had paid for my massage. HUH?!?! I mean, someone called and paid for my massage? I don't remember even telling anyone I was getting a massage. A wave of emotions came over me, I wanted to cry. I could not believe in that moment that such kindness had been shown to little, ol' me. 

I had been saving up for this massage! I was prepared to pay and you're telling me it is taken care of?

Mama, who are you?

After my massage, I posted something on Facebook, hoping the mystery mama would come clean. But no such luck. I still do not know who this angel is. And I'm discovering that maybe that's okay. 

I recently gifted someone anonymously so I am extra shocked that the same thing has been done for me. I guess this is when karma isn't a bitch. Kindness is contagious. 

I am inspired to carry on this precious spirit of goodwill in a big way. 

Thank you from the bottom of my heart to the mystery mama to be who paid for my massage. You are a true angel, whoever you are. 

my greatest, little teacher.

My 16 month old babe, G, has recently started showing the sweetest nurturing nature. She grabs her sippy cup or her plastic teacup and feeds her dolls, her stuffed animals, her wooden butterfly puzzle pieces. She hugs and kisses them. It makes my heart a flutter everytime I witness her caring spirit. I'm sure a lot of kids do this- I know she's not the only one but it has caught me by surprise because I did not teach her to do it. It comes from within her. I see this little mama in her and it lights me up. I don't believe every female is destined for motherhood. But I do believe that all people have a desire to nurture others in some way or another. 

Not everyone acts on it all the time though. I don't. I don't even nurture or take care of the people I love the most 100% of the time. Sometimes I am annoyed with them, sometimes I disagree with their actions, sometimes I am just too lazy. But being a mama and learning to bloom in the moment is teaching me that those are excuses. You can disagree, you can be frustrated with loved ones, but that should never mean you stop nurturing them in the best way possible. 

I have been having some pretty excruciating hip/back/sciatic pain during this pregnancy- so much so, it leaves me crying at times. In those times, G looks at me, curls her lip under, drops her eyebrows and cuddles up next to me. She shows me empathy in a way that I have never experienced before. At just a little over one year old, without complete verbal and communication skills- she shows me she cares because that is in her soul. It's in all of our souls, we just have to choose to act on it.

My daughter is proving to be my greatest teacher.  I am so proud of her already.

Why I'm blooming today:

*In my third trimester!

*Had a great yoga session this morning

*Get to support a dear friend in opening her new business tonight!