A Princess is Born

Now this birth was almost 13 years ago, so bear with me. I remember what happened beforehand, I remember afterwards, but I don't remember much of the doing. Nor did we have digital cameras way back then, so bear with our scanned images.

I had the most amazing experience with my midwife through my prenatal visits but it came time to formulate a birth plan. Since I was living in an apartment with very thin walls and the utmost respect for my neighbors, I decided that I wanted to have my baby at the birthing center. I just felt that I would be a little more comfortable there without having to worry about my neighbors thinking my then husband was beating me and calling 911 and then having cops and paramedics and what have you show up at my door while I was trying to birth a baby.

Then I started thinking, really what was the difference between having my baby at home or at the birth center? Well, if I did the birth center, I would have to pack up all my birth supplies and drive there, spit the kid out, rest for just a while, and then come back home. Where if I had the baby at home, that was it. So the only thing holding me back was wondering what the neighbors would think. And then that bastard continually stole my assigned parking spot and all bets were off. I was hoping I would scream like a banshee and he wouldn't get any sleep and hopefully he was taking finals the next day and would fail and then that would teach him better than to steal a pregnant woman's parking spot.

So I decided to have my baby at home. And one day, I really thought she was coming. But I was wrong.

If you follow basketball at all, you know that the Houston Rocket's dream team was in the mid 90s. At the time I was a huge basketball fan, but much more a HUGE Rockets fan. In 1995, the Rockets were the 6th seed entering the playoffs. The situation was not looking good, but that was okay. You see if they would have made it to the finals, game 5 would have been scheduled on my due date, June 16th. And I was really not wanting to miss catching the game because of something as silly as birthing a baby. But lo and behold those boys pulled out some dramatic wins and made it to the finals. And all I could say was, Please win the series in 4 games, Please win the series in 4 games. You can tell, I had my priorities straight.

The night of June 14th we were at home watching Game 4 when I suddenly felt a pain. A pain that definitely didn't feel like heartburn. My then husband noticed I had gotten a little quiet and asked what was wrong. I told him I thought maybe the baby was coming. For real this time, he asked. Um, yeah I think so...

We called Pat and let her know we thought I was in labor. She told me to take it easy and relax, I had a long night ahead and a lot of work to do. If possible I should go and take a nap. Well that's easy to say, but hello, the game of the freakin' century was on! There was a lot of shouting, a lot of cheering, a lot of oohing, a lot of damn what was that, and a win! Then since we were so upset that we couldn't go out and party on the Richmond Strip with the rest of H-town, we took a nap.

I slept for a while. The pains got worse. We called everyone around midnight. My mom and my stepdad and I think my baby brother came. I got in the tub. My mom and my husband made up the bed. My stepdad boiled water because he's the sort of person that needs a task. I grabbed the soap dish on the shower wall and damn near pulled it off because the contractions hurt so bad. But nobody knew. Why, because I am probably the quietest laborer in the history of the world. No shouts of pain, no yells to sweet Jesus to get this thing out, just a few subdued moans and groans. At some point my mom was there with a pot because I had to throw up. That was transition.

I decided to get out of the tub and by that time I was ready to push. Pat had me get on all fours because I was experiencing back labor. Not fun. Didn't exactly reaffirm my decision to do this thing with no drugs. I think at some point I asked for tequila. I'm not sure how long I pushed. I know at some point my water broke. I know at some point I flipped over to my back. I know that while pushing I was making some very loud tribal noises and I hoped that the parking spot stealing ass heard every single one of them. I know my mother was reading my list of affirmations to me and I would repeat them. I know at some point my baby was born. Well some point was 6:44am.

My baby was born and I cried. It came right up to my chest where we immediately covered it with a blanket and took it in. My midwife did the Apgar on my baby in my arms. I counted fingers and toes, I touched its little noise, I noticed the "storkbite" on its forehead. I was so caught up in the moment of being a mom and thinking Hallelujah I did it, that I did not know what my baby was. I think about 5 minutes passed before Pat finally told my mom to go get the baby's hat out of the oven. My mom started towards the kitchen, turned around and asked "Which one, pink or blue?"

At that moment, I realized that I was so in love with this little person, so enraptured by its beauty, so ready to give it the world, and so not knowing what its name was. Well, it was a girl. It was my Allison.

I started nursing her while we waited for the placenta to deliver. But there was a problem, the placenta had not detached properly and was not coming. So Pat had to go and retrieve it, which I swear hurt more than the childbirth. After it finally delivered, there was a lot of blood. Too much blood. And a look on Pat's face I did not like. And in her calm voice she spoke to me.

"Amy, we're having a little problem here. You are bleeding a lot and if we can't get the bleeding under control, I'm going to have to transport you to the hospital."

And all I could think was hell no. I didn't just do this, at home, to go to the place I didn't want to be, to be separated from my baby. This was not going to happen.

"What can we do?" I asked.

"I can give you a shot of Pitocin to slow the bleeding down. Now I know how you feel about needles, but this is what we need to do."

Terrified, I was terrified. But bring it on, because I wasn't going ANYWHERE!

The shot worked, the bleeding subsided and it was time for what would become my favorite moment of all my home birth experiences, the herbal bath. Allison and I got into a warm tub with all sorts of nature's goodness, to help heal her cord, to help heal me, to help bond. It was candlelit, it was quiet, it was wonderful. It was the first time that my precious angel LOOKED at me and my heart melted. After a while in the tub, I decided I was beat. THEN we weighed her, THEN we measured her, THEN we checked out body parts and did whatever else it is you do to newborn babies. I had held my baby for about two hours. Me, no one took her anywhere until I was ready. And by then I was ready.

She was passed around and when she finally ended up in Grandpa's arms, well then she pooped. Which I LOVE my stepdad to pieces, but our relationship is quite a funny one. And to have my daughter honor him with her first poop, well that was just fabulous.

It was time for sleep and it was wonderful, snuggling in bed with my little one was just the best feeling ever. I couldn't believe that we had done it, me and her. I couldn't believe I was a mom. I couldn't have been happier. I couldn't imagine having a baby any other way.

Here's Alli with Pat at her two week checkup: