Just one year ago at this time... I was heavy with baby (literally and figuratively)! Our surprise gift was not ready to make his entrance into the world. Waiting for his arrival taught us such patience, and gave Garrett and I a few more days to really focus on each other... something we don't have as much time for anymore...
I think about it often, but Hyatt helps me be the best version of myself. Through this last year, he was welcomed into the world in a warm, peaceful environment, was never separated from me after birth, he has never drank from a bottle, used a pacifier, slept alone in big room, cried without someone soothing and holding him, had anything foreign injected into his body, spent any amount of time in plastic diapers, spends time outside everyday, eats healthy and local food regularly (even picked his own peaches, apples and beans!), wears natural and breathable wool and silk/wool fabrics, his car seat remained firmly locked in the car and he spent most of the first 9 months of his life in a wrap or sling, laughs and explores the world in his own comfort, has a papa that he just clings to, grandparents that light up when he enters the room, the list continues... and I am so proud of this as a mom. I have been blessed with a supportive husband and family, and a healthy baby, so these options were possible for us. There are many terrific mother's out there that make different decisions than we have, and that's the wonderful and hard part about being a parent... you do the best that you can.
My midwife told me after Hyatt was born, that a mother was born that day too. I can't thank Hyatt enough for blessing me with his presence, energy, love. The Waldorf story tells us that all of our babies are angels up in heaven, waiting for the perfect parents to choose in order to enter this world. He picked us!
I think about it often, but Hyatt helps me be the best version of myself. Through this last year, he was welcomed into the world in a warm, peaceful environment, was never separated from me after birth, he has never drank from a bottle, used a pacifier, slept alone in big room, cried without someone soothing and holding him, had anything foreign injected into his body, spent any amount of time in plastic diapers, spends time outside everyday, eats healthy and local food regularly (even picked his own peaches, apples and beans!), wears natural and breathable wool and silk/wool fabrics, his car seat remained firmly locked in the car and he spent most of the first 9 months of his life in a wrap or sling, laughs and explores the world in his own comfort, has a papa that he just clings to, grandparents that light up when he enters the room, the list continues... and I am so proud of this as a mom. I have been blessed with a supportive husband and family, and a healthy baby, so these options were possible for us. There are many terrific mother's out there that make different decisions than we have, and that's the wonderful and hard part about being a parent... you do the best that you can.
My midwife told me after Hyatt was born, that a mother was born that day too. I can't thank Hyatt enough for blessing me with his presence, energy, love. The Waldorf story tells us that all of our babies are angels up in heaven, waiting for the perfect parents to choose in order to enter this world. He picked us!
(photos courtesy of Jen Holshoe)
Here is Hyatt's birth story that we wrote for ArtPrize Grand Rapids.
Sunday, the day after Christmas in 2010, was to be the last day of our lives without a child. We did not know it yet, but just before we were to lay down for bed, the last part of our 9 ½ month journey was to begin. We had read hundreds of birth stories and researched the endless choices there are to bring a child into this world. From the beginning we wanted a peaceful, private, safe, and comfortable environment to give birth. It was not long into our researching that we realized our choice would be quite natural and easy. We would have a homebirth.
The day before our son was born started as a normal day for a thirteen-day overdue mama. The harried days of Christmas had passed and finally we had quiet in our lives. I was happy, heavy with baby, anticipating how labor would feel, imagining our baby’s face, and struggling to be as active as I had been for most of my pregnancy. Our midwife, Sara, came in the morning to check to see how everything was going. She told me that the baby was in perfect position and that my body was ready, but something was holding me back. I was dedicated to red raspberry leaf tea, yoga, labor squats, four to five mile daily walks; I felt extremely ready to have our baby! She even called after she left, checking to make sure I wasn’t truly afraid. Every part of me was quivering, but with excitement, not fear - almost like waiting for the gun of a race to go off.
My husband and I decided to go for a snowy hike around our property. It was absolutely beautiful – warm out, but snow was on the ground. The dogs ran constantly, searching for mice and playing in the snow. We climbed up a permanent tree stand to just sit and be still for a while. The river was the loudest thing we could hear. Our baby was still active and tiny contractions were happening; just another day with Braxton-Hicks, or so I thought. The day progressed slowly, with a homemade meal surrounded by our family. We decided to go to bed around 11, and suddenly, without notice, the first squeezing sensation began around my midsection. This was nothing like the contractions I had been experiencing for the last month. The sensation was intense and almost dropped me to my knees. Suddenly, it was gone. Less than ten minutes later another surge came upon me. At this point, my husband was on the phone with our midwife and relayed to her that he thought labor was starting. She told me throughout my pregnancy that she believed I would be an efficient laborer and told my husband she would call her apprentices and they would be ready. She told me to call her back when my pain was around a six or a seven and they would make the hour trip down. At this point I felt confused and a bit overwhelmed by the intensity of the contractions. I have always believed that I am a woman that could endure pain through mental fortitude and being in good shape, but this hurt. If this was only a one or a two on the pain scale, how could I handle the rest of labor!? Luckily, my midwife heard the intensity in my voice and decided it was time to make her way down to our home as quickly as possible.
Surprisingly, I was ecstatic with the pain. Our baby was coming! I had prepared a mantra to help to calm me down through the contractions, “Release, relax, focus, smile.” At this point, I tried a variety of positions to get comfortable – the bed, the birthing ball, walking, squatting… the toilet seemed to be the only comfortable place to labor through the contractions. I kept thinking – how do women labor in the hospital without moving?! I laughed with my husband that I felt a bit like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde – I would be smiling and talking with him and as soon as contractions started I needed to be by myself and just focus on breathing through the pain. I got into our bathtub around 12:30 a.m. and the rushes were around 4-5 minutes apart. I remember looking at my husband and feeling so much more in love with him on so many different levels. His excitement was palpable and he was so extremely supportive. He was there with water, a backrub, encouraging looks and words about how beautiful and proud of me he was. By the time our midwife showed up an hour later, I was so happy to see her. The contractions were basically on top of each other and within ten minutes after her arrival, my water broke in the bathtub. Seeing her made it so real. Our baby was coming, and fast! She said it was time to get out of the tub and to get labor progressing. As soon as I turned over to stand up, I was sick. Transition was here already! Everything was happening so fast. I thought I’d be in labor for 8-10 hours, not 2-3! At this point, I couldn’t get comfortable in any position between the rushes, but I was walking the hallway, leaning on my husband, leaning on the birthing ball, and being very vocal. Sara our midwife and Stephanie, one of her apprentices, kept telling me to keep my moaning as low as possible, to help open and relax my cervix, and we would all moan together. In my mind I kept thinking that we must look and sound ridiculous – but it helped! I started bearing down during the rushes and it felt so primal. My body was doing exactly what it needed to do, going into a different gear that even I had no control over. I knew we would see our baby soon, even though I had no idea how long the pushing phase would take.
At 3 a.m. I got into the birthing pool, in front of our fire place. The fire was beautiful, the lights were low, the snow was falling outside – our birth was progressing exactly as we had envisioned it, hoped and prayed for. When I got into the pool, the heat enveloped me, but it immediately relaxed my body to the point where I could almost fall asleep while resting between the rushes. At this point the rushes were less than two minutes apart and the pain was strong. I remember focusing inward and repeating that the pain and strong contractions were necessary, that I needed to welcome them and not be scared. They would help me bring our baby into this world. My first real push frightened me. The push was so deep and strong, and uncontrollable that a growl came from my throat. Sara, our midwife was amazing. She prepared me for every step of labor by describing the next sensation I would be having, minutes and seconds before it happened. She told me I could not be scared of the feeling, of my body taking over, that I needed to embrace it. My husband was at my face, holding my hand, telling me even more how beautiful I was and what a good job I was doing. Jen and Stephanie were fanning me and putting cold washcloths on my neck and face. At this point I remember looking up and seeing our midwife knitting a hat for our baby on the couch near me. This strengthened me even more. If she was calm, this meant that I was doing a good job, that our baby was doing its job, and everything was going as well as possible.
Sara said, “You will see your baby soon.” What compelling words. My husband moved down to be able to see our baby crown and to catch him or her. I could feel the baby moving down, but then I could feel it move back up once the push was over. This was frustrating and felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere! Our midwife told me to reach down and I could feel a soft and squishy, hairy head between my legs. This gave me the extra motivation for stronger pushes and asking for stronger contractions. I was directed to push down lower and when it burned to just hold – the next rush and our baby’s head was halfway out. They could see his eyes underwater. Stephanie whispered to me that our baby’s head was almost out and I would see my baby soon. With the next push came a loud “POP” and his hand/arm came shooting out, quickly followed by the rest of his head. What a feeling of relief and accomplishment! The next big push and the shoulders and body were out, only four and a half hours after my first contraction. A first-time Daddy was holding his baby that he had just caught. They told me to turn over to hold my baby and I asked, “What is it?” No one answered me, so I asked again. Finally, my husband exclaimed, “It’s a boy!” He had such pride in his voice. They handed me my son and like people always say, time stopped. I could hear and feel nothing but this new life in my arms and his eyes were open and just staring at me. Sara said, “Hold his head, it hurts a little bit right now.” Then it kicked in – I’m a mommy, fully in charge of protecting and cherishing this new life. He’s mine. I stared at the tiny, perfect face of our son and my heart was so full. My husband kissed me and held both of us in his arms and our son moved his head to look at his daddy. What a beautiful sense, words will never capture what happened in that moment, but my heart will never forget those seconds.
We wanted so badly to have our son in a peaceful and happy environment, and we did. He was never separated from us at any point, and didn’t even leave the house until he was over two weeks old. Our son has always been a calm, healthy and peaceful baby, and we are firm believers that it is because how he came into this world. Even at seven months old he rarely stops smiling. This choice to have a homebirth has strengthened our relationship and our resolve to always choose the most natural route for everything with our body and our child, and to always trust ourselves. We are stronger parents. When people question our choices, whether it be our birth decisions or parenting style, I listen to their opinion and move forward. We know what’s best for our baby and it’s ok if others disagree with us. Every mother wants what’s best for her child. I feel that I rest easier at night, knowing we’ve given our son the best start in life, in our eyes. I feel a deeper connection with him, knowing that I respected him as a baby before he was born, letting him choose when he came into the world and allowing him have a quiet environment, free of ultrasounds and undue stress, in which to grow. I respect him now, listening to him and what he needs, protecting his childhood, and allowing him to develop his senses surrounded by nature and love. We were connected for almost 42 weeks, he is me and I am him, yet he is his own unique, individual, beautiful spirit. While nursing my growing boy, I look at his big hands, soft and intertwined in his blanket, and realize that someday those hands will be the calloused hands of a man. But, he will always be my baby boy, born in the water, in front of a fire, at our home, caught by his daddy, on a snowy morning in December.
