Freya's story
In so many ways my sweet little four day old daughter has already taught me about expecting the unexpected.
Her life, in every sense, was the unexpected for me. I will say it until the day I die, I never really thought I would have a daughter. I had arrived at a point where I was content knowing that I was the boy mom of many, and knowing that there would be opportunities for me to "mother" other girls/young women in a capacity that so many women have done with me. A daughter of my own flesh and blood, one I would carry was not something I anticipated. That day in July that I heard "this baby is a girl" will always stay with me as one of the most shocking days of my life.
The unexpected wasn't to stop there.
I fully anticipated having a baby in my arms by January 9th or 10th, give or take a few days. The last three boys have come before or right around their due dates, I was hoping she would be the same. This girl was on her own schedule. I think she knew Payton didn't want to share his birthday, so not only did she give him January 9th, she gave him a full 8 days between. Each of those days we waited for labor to start was emotionally very difficult for me. She was the latest baby since Avery, each day was a reminder to be patient.
As I was waiting for her I decided to get out the birth plan questionnaire I had been given at one of my appointments. I'm not who usually makes a birth plan, but I was bored and needed to occupy my time so I figured "hey, why not?" I started filling it out and only filled in a few of the questions before being reminded why I don't do birth plans. I don't like planning and assuming labor will be a certain way. I have had completely different experiences with each boy, so I've learned to roll with the punches.
I pulled that birth plan out of my purse today though and read my few responses. To the question "What would your perfect birth be like? What would you settle for?" I answered: " Perfect birth ends with a healthy baby in my arms. Nothing would really surprise me or upset me about the labor/birth experience."
I laugh hysterically reading that response now. Freya, my little wild card baby, found a way to surprise me. What I never could have anticipated while mentally preparing for her labor and delivery was to find myself kneeling in the back of my minivan, wearing nothing but a sports bra, my husband's superman bathrobe, and a pair of slippers covered in amniotic fluid; being supported by my husband on one side and one of the midwives on the other side, while another midwife drove us to the hospital with the enthusiasm and skills you would expect from an experienced get away driver.
It's okay to laugh. Four days later I'm finally able to see the humor in it all as the pain subsides.
I should probably start at the beginning of Freya's dramatic day.
I woke up on Sunday, January 17th at about 4 am feeling off. I went to the bathroom, nothing out of the ordinary so I went back to sleep for another hour. At 5 am I was woken by a really good contraction, I went to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding. Game on. I knew we were in business. From this point and for the next 6 hours this labor mimicked Thayer's almost exactly, just an hour off in the time frame.
I woke up Jason and started timing the contractions as they came perfectly like clockwork. They started at 5 minutes apart and within the first few hours they quickly closed in to 4 minutes apart and 3 minutes apart. I called the answering service for my birth center and talked to one of the midwives right away within the first hour. Then I got into the shower, where I had about 7-8 contractions. It took quite awhile to get myself ready because the pain was already really really good.
We slowly but surely both got ready, we both ate breakfast, and packed up the last things we needed. Around 7:45 I was feeling ready to head to the birth center. The contractions were staying strong and all through the entire thing I wasn't feeling Freya moving at all so I wanted to get her monitored. I called the midwife again and we planned to meet at 8:30. We were ready to walk out the door, so we said goodbye to the boys, and headed to walmart to walk. I took forever walking through the store and by the time we grabbed some energy drinks and poptarts for Jason and some more snacks for me it was time to get to the center.
We got there around 8:45 and we did a NST to check out how little miss was doing. Sitting down the contractions were less frequent but still coming strong, she was tolerating them perfectly. After enough heart rate activity from her we headed down the hall to one of the birthing rooms to get settled in. By the time I got checked at honestly I can't remember what time I was 7-8 cm and we were definitely in business. From this point I hung out standing and bouncing on the birthing ball. I was tolerating the contractions with no problem. It was not intense, I was in great spirits, easiest labor at this point.
Whenever I'm laboring at the birth center I am in great spirits. My midwives had me cracking up over just about everything. It was not half bad at all. When the third midwife arrived she actually asked "are you sure she's in labor?" I was feeling great, not at all stressed or concerned at this point.
Around 11 something I was trying to decide whether to have my water broken or not. It was a decision I wasn't really sure about. At an appointment a few weeks before we had talked about not breaking my water and just letting her be born in her sac if it came down to it. In my labor like this with Thayer, at this point I made the decision to have my water broken. The second it was broken I went from easily able to handle my contractions, to instantly screaming bloody murder. Thayer was a 10 pound baby down a slip and slide and I was lost in the agony of the five minutes it took to deliver him. This just being 15 months ago, it was fresh enough in my head that I was hesitating in getting my water broken. I sat in that labor tub fighting myself for about an hour on this decision. I struggled because until that point we had no interventions at all, I had gone into labor on my own, I had progressed perfectly on my own, I was truly hoping my body would finish the job on its own.
Sometime around 12:30 I had Mary go ahead and break my water. I had been dilated to 10 for awhile and things were moving slowly with my water still intact. I got brave and braced myself for Freya's body to slam down. Except she didn't. From this point it felt like a gentle progression in intensity, which I found myself very grateful for.
At some point though I did start pushing, trying to get her body to come down. We knew she was at +2 station and had been for awhile. Everything pointed to her being born quickly; except that just wasn't happening. I had zero urge to push, but the intensity was climbing and the pain was starting to bottle pretty bad. I started to lose my cool. This was not the type of delivery I have experienced with the majority of the boys. The only one it was acting like was Rylan, and I put that out of my head. I spent three hours dilated to ten with Rylan, for an unknown reason he would not come down. I was thisclose to a csection with him when his head finally came loose and I got him delivered. I remembered the miserable feeling with him of having no urge to push, but the pain continuing to build. It was exactly like that.
Over about an hour and a half (I think, I wasn't watching the clock) I pushed, in varying positions. I could not get into a position that worked. Nothing was bringing her head into place. My water had to be broken a second time. The midwives eventually urged me to get out of the water and try pushing in the bed. This was even worse. They were reaching up trying to help bring her head down, that made it even more unbearable. I kept trying and instead of my body helping, my body was completely fighting it. The pain was pretty horrific. I know I was whimpering, moaning, screaming, etc through this time and I couldn't help it. My body was in so much agony. Through and between these contractions I was praying for help, praying for an answer, praying to know the right thing to do. When the words "at a certain point we have to start thinking about going to the hospital" were spoken, I knew that it was time. I still had no urge to push, just excruciating pain with each contraction. I felt panicked, I kept looking into Jason's eyes through this agony, hearing him cheer me on. I was really starting to get scared though. I felt like my body just wasn't going to deliver this baby.
The call was made over to labor and delivery, and we started to get me moved towards the door. I had Jason grab the cell phones, we left everything else behind, and we wrapped me in Jason's robe and we headed down the hall. As I stopped for a contraction I realized I was bare foot and we were headed outside. My slippers were grabbed, and as I put them on and started dripping amniotic fluid on them I heard Jason telling me he would buy me new ones. We got the van and I climbed in the only way I could and braced myself kneeling because there was absolutely no way I could get into the seat. Thank goodness for stow and go seating...
At this point I was pretty sure I was going to die.
We rode to the hospital, me in a ridiculous state of undress, Jason and a midwife in the back with me. Another midwife driving. Luckily it's only about 2 minutes to get to the hospital, but there's a roundabout in between. My theory is that the roundabout got this baby girl into position. There was a lot of praying at this point especially.
We got to the hospital. somehow I got into a wheelchair and we got wheeled into a room. Details are fuzzy here, but I remember announcing to anyone who would listen that I would like a c-section now. I ended up in a bed, I remember a nurse trying to attach me to monitors (lol) and then a short little female doctor in plaid with her hands up my business feeling around Freya's head. Then I remember a contraction slamming and my body finally pushing the baby down, as I cringed and was pushing myself up towards the top of the bed. I remember hearing that they could finally see her head coming down, I dug some strength from somewhere deep inside and pushed like I've never pushed before. Our girl was coming out pretty fast now. Jason said her body didn't even get a chance to rotate for her shoulders to come out one over the other, she shot out shoulders even with the floor.
Instant relief. I looked down to see her at the end of the bed, and quickly verified what four ultrasounds had told us, definitely a girl. It took a minute for the short little doctor to be able to lift our little chunk up to me, she had to move herself around to the side of the bed to be able to lift her up.
It had been about five minutes or less from the time we walked into the hospital until we were holding a baby.
I remember holding Freya. I remember having to hand her to Jason a handful of times. When she was finally weighed I couldn't even see the scale, but immediately heard gasps all over the room. I never even considered I would have a baby bigger than Declan and Thayer both were. I'm grateful I had no idea she was over 11 pounds.
Due to Freya's size, the excessive fluid I was carrying, and the amount of time I spent pushing I hemorrhaged pretty bad and most of the details are pretty blurry from this point. They spent several hours working on me, and it was details I'd rather forget. It was finally about 4 hours after delivery that I got to hold little miss without having to hand her back, my eyes filled with tears of disbelief that she was really here and really ours.
I try to find the positives when situations don't go as "planned". Freya taught me to be patient, she taught me to go deep into myself to find a strength I never knew existed. I'm grateful that the first part of my labor was spent in the birth center around the calm and laughter. I'm grateful for three amazing midwives who supported me through every step of the way and knew when it was time to get me more help. I'm grateful that I survived the ride to the hospital haha, along with that I'm glad I have a sense of humor and can laugh about it now. I'm grateful we got the hospital before I delivered and started hemorrhaging, while they can handle excessive bleeding in the birth center, I would've been terrified to bleed that much out of the hospital. I felt like it was a bit of divine intervention at that point. I am grateful for my husband who was my greatest support and never hesitated in his positive encouragement and calming influence through my agony. I'm forever grateful for the little girl who stayed strong through all of this; her heart rate never dipped and she never showed any signs of distress. She is truly a dream come true that has completed our family.
Freya was not the gentle water birth that I had with Thayer and thought I would get again, yet she still fits my criteria for a "perfect birth". Her story is perfect in every way because it brought her to our arms.
Her life, in every sense, was the unexpected for me. I will say it until the day I die, I never really thought I would have a daughter. I had arrived at a point where I was content knowing that I was the boy mom of many, and knowing that there would be opportunities for me to "mother" other girls/young women in a capacity that so many women have done with me. A daughter of my own flesh and blood, one I would carry was not something I anticipated. That day in July that I heard "this baby is a girl" will always stay with me as one of the most shocking days of my life.
The unexpected wasn't to stop there.
I fully anticipated having a baby in my arms by January 9th or 10th, give or take a few days. The last three boys have come before or right around their due dates, I was hoping she would be the same. This girl was on her own schedule. I think she knew Payton didn't want to share his birthday, so not only did she give him January 9th, she gave him a full 8 days between. Each of those days we waited for labor to start was emotionally very difficult for me. She was the latest baby since Avery, each day was a reminder to be patient.
As I was waiting for her I decided to get out the birth plan questionnaire I had been given at one of my appointments. I'm not who usually makes a birth plan, but I was bored and needed to occupy my time so I figured "hey, why not?" I started filling it out and only filled in a few of the questions before being reminded why I don't do birth plans. I don't like planning and assuming labor will be a certain way. I have had completely different experiences with each boy, so I've learned to roll with the punches.
I pulled that birth plan out of my purse today though and read my few responses. To the question "What would your perfect birth be like? What would you settle for?" I answered: " Perfect birth ends with a healthy baby in my arms. Nothing would really surprise me or upset me about the labor/birth experience."
I laugh hysterically reading that response now. Freya, my little wild card baby, found a way to surprise me. What I never could have anticipated while mentally preparing for her labor and delivery was to find myself kneeling in the back of my minivan, wearing nothing but a sports bra, my husband's superman bathrobe, and a pair of slippers covered in amniotic fluid; being supported by my husband on one side and one of the midwives on the other side, while another midwife drove us to the hospital with the enthusiasm and skills you would expect from an experienced get away driver.
It's okay to laugh. Four days later I'm finally able to see the humor in it all as the pain subsides.
I should probably start at the beginning of Freya's dramatic day.
I woke up on Sunday, January 17th at about 4 am feeling off. I went to the bathroom, nothing out of the ordinary so I went back to sleep for another hour. At 5 am I was woken by a really good contraction, I went to the bathroom and discovered I was bleeding. Game on. I knew we were in business. From this point and for the next 6 hours this labor mimicked Thayer's almost exactly, just an hour off in the time frame.
I woke up Jason and started timing the contractions as they came perfectly like clockwork. They started at 5 minutes apart and within the first few hours they quickly closed in to 4 minutes apart and 3 minutes apart. I called the answering service for my birth center and talked to one of the midwives right away within the first hour. Then I got into the shower, where I had about 7-8 contractions. It took quite awhile to get myself ready because the pain was already really really good.
We slowly but surely both got ready, we both ate breakfast, and packed up the last things we needed. Around 7:45 I was feeling ready to head to the birth center. The contractions were staying strong and all through the entire thing I wasn't feeling Freya moving at all so I wanted to get her monitored. I called the midwife again and we planned to meet at 8:30. We were ready to walk out the door, so we said goodbye to the boys, and headed to walmart to walk. I took forever walking through the store and by the time we grabbed some energy drinks and poptarts for Jason and some more snacks for me it was time to get to the center.
We got there around 8:45 and we did a NST to check out how little miss was doing. Sitting down the contractions were less frequent but still coming strong, she was tolerating them perfectly. After enough heart rate activity from her we headed down the hall to one of the birthing rooms to get settled in. By the time I got checked at honestly I can't remember what time I was 7-8 cm and we were definitely in business. From this point I hung out standing and bouncing on the birthing ball. I was tolerating the contractions with no problem. It was not intense, I was in great spirits, easiest labor at this point.
Whenever I'm laboring at the birth center I am in great spirits. My midwives had me cracking up over just about everything. It was not half bad at all. When the third midwife arrived she actually asked "are you sure she's in labor?" I was feeling great, not at all stressed or concerned at this point.
Around 11 something I was trying to decide whether to have my water broken or not. It was a decision I wasn't really sure about. At an appointment a few weeks before we had talked about not breaking my water and just letting her be born in her sac if it came down to it. In my labor like this with Thayer, at this point I made the decision to have my water broken. The second it was broken I went from easily able to handle my contractions, to instantly screaming bloody murder. Thayer was a 10 pound baby down a slip and slide and I was lost in the agony of the five minutes it took to deliver him. This just being 15 months ago, it was fresh enough in my head that I was hesitating in getting my water broken. I sat in that labor tub fighting myself for about an hour on this decision. I struggled because until that point we had no interventions at all, I had gone into labor on my own, I had progressed perfectly on my own, I was truly hoping my body would finish the job on its own.
Sometime around 12:30 I had Mary go ahead and break my water. I had been dilated to 10 for awhile and things were moving slowly with my water still intact. I got brave and braced myself for Freya's body to slam down. Except she didn't. From this point it felt like a gentle progression in intensity, which I found myself very grateful for.
At some point though I did start pushing, trying to get her body to come down. We knew she was at +2 station and had been for awhile. Everything pointed to her being born quickly; except that just wasn't happening. I had zero urge to push, but the intensity was climbing and the pain was starting to bottle pretty bad. I started to lose my cool. This was not the type of delivery I have experienced with the majority of the boys. The only one it was acting like was Rylan, and I put that out of my head. I spent three hours dilated to ten with Rylan, for an unknown reason he would not come down. I was thisclose to a csection with him when his head finally came loose and I got him delivered. I remembered the miserable feeling with him of having no urge to push, but the pain continuing to build. It was exactly like that.
Over about an hour and a half (I think, I wasn't watching the clock) I pushed, in varying positions. I could not get into a position that worked. Nothing was bringing her head into place. My water had to be broken a second time. The midwives eventually urged me to get out of the water and try pushing in the bed. This was even worse. They were reaching up trying to help bring her head down, that made it even more unbearable. I kept trying and instead of my body helping, my body was completely fighting it. The pain was pretty horrific. I know I was whimpering, moaning, screaming, etc through this time and I couldn't help it. My body was in so much agony. Through and between these contractions I was praying for help, praying for an answer, praying to know the right thing to do. When the words "at a certain point we have to start thinking about going to the hospital" were spoken, I knew that it was time. I still had no urge to push, just excruciating pain with each contraction. I felt panicked, I kept looking into Jason's eyes through this agony, hearing him cheer me on. I was really starting to get scared though. I felt like my body just wasn't going to deliver this baby.
The call was made over to labor and delivery, and we started to get me moved towards the door. I had Jason grab the cell phones, we left everything else behind, and we wrapped me in Jason's robe and we headed down the hall. As I stopped for a contraction I realized I was bare foot and we were headed outside. My slippers were grabbed, and as I put them on and started dripping amniotic fluid on them I heard Jason telling me he would buy me new ones. We got the van and I climbed in the only way I could and braced myself kneeling because there was absolutely no way I could get into the seat. Thank goodness for stow and go seating...
At this point I was pretty sure I was going to die.
We rode to the hospital, me in a ridiculous state of undress, Jason and a midwife in the back with me. Another midwife driving. Luckily it's only about 2 minutes to get to the hospital, but there's a roundabout in between. My theory is that the roundabout got this baby girl into position. There was a lot of praying at this point especially.
We got to the hospital. somehow I got into a wheelchair and we got wheeled into a room. Details are fuzzy here, but I remember announcing to anyone who would listen that I would like a c-section now. I ended up in a bed, I remember a nurse trying to attach me to monitors (lol) and then a short little female doctor in plaid with her hands up my business feeling around Freya's head. Then I remember a contraction slamming and my body finally pushing the baby down, as I cringed and was pushing myself up towards the top of the bed. I remember hearing that they could finally see her head coming down, I dug some strength from somewhere deep inside and pushed like I've never pushed before. Our girl was coming out pretty fast now. Jason said her body didn't even get a chance to rotate for her shoulders to come out one over the other, she shot out shoulders even with the floor.
Instant relief. I looked down to see her at the end of the bed, and quickly verified what four ultrasounds had told us, definitely a girl. It took a minute for the short little doctor to be able to lift our little chunk up to me, she had to move herself around to the side of the bed to be able to lift her up.
It had been about five minutes or less from the time we walked into the hospital until we were holding a baby.
I remember holding Freya. I remember having to hand her to Jason a handful of times. When she was finally weighed I couldn't even see the scale, but immediately heard gasps all over the room. I never even considered I would have a baby bigger than Declan and Thayer both were. I'm grateful I had no idea she was over 11 pounds.
Due to Freya's size, the excessive fluid I was carrying, and the amount of time I spent pushing I hemorrhaged pretty bad and most of the details are pretty blurry from this point. They spent several hours working on me, and it was details I'd rather forget. It was finally about 4 hours after delivery that I got to hold little miss without having to hand her back, my eyes filled with tears of disbelief that she was really here and really ours.
I try to find the positives when situations don't go as "planned". Freya taught me to be patient, she taught me to go deep into myself to find a strength I never knew existed. I'm grateful that the first part of my labor was spent in the birth center around the calm and laughter. I'm grateful for three amazing midwives who supported me through every step of the way and knew when it was time to get me more help. I'm grateful that I survived the ride to the hospital haha, along with that I'm glad I have a sense of humor and can laugh about it now. I'm grateful we got the hospital before I delivered and started hemorrhaging, while they can handle excessive bleeding in the birth center, I would've been terrified to bleed that much out of the hospital. I felt like it was a bit of divine intervention at that point. I am grateful for my husband who was my greatest support and never hesitated in his positive encouragement and calming influence through my agony. I'm forever grateful for the little girl who stayed strong through all of this; her heart rate never dipped and she never showed any signs of distress. She is truly a dream come true that has completed our family.
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