Reflections on Noah’s Birth. Part 4

7 Feb

Read Part 1 Here ||| Read Part 2 Here || Read Part 3 Here

I made a promise a long time ago to write out my reflections and thoughts regarding my son’s birth, and ten months later, I’m finally getting around to it.

Peter, holding Noah for the first time!

Here is what I do remember.

I struggled and still do with how fast my labor was.  In case you’re reading this for the first time, I arrived at the birth center in raging labor, with contractions right on top of each other (convinced I was in transition) and my midwife let me know I was four cm.  I honestly thought I would have to leave and get an epidural because I had no idea how I would manage if the contractions worsened.  The good news is that the pain of the contractions never got worse, only the pressure below intensified.  I should mention that we arrived at the birth center somewhere between 5:35 and 5:45 and I was 4 cm when we arrived and I birthed my son at 6:13 pm.  That means that active labor, transition, pushing  – and kablamo – babe in arms was less than 45 minutes.  That’s crazy fast.  CRAZY!

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The Birth Interview Project | Beth’s 3rd Birth Center Waterbirth

4 Feb

The Birth Interview Project consists of 17 simple questions designed to help mothers process their birth story & share it with others. All mothers are invited to take part in this project. Born out of Joy’s desire to help women discover, process and express the feelings surrounding their birth experiences, The Birth Interview Project strives to offer a platform for mothers and readers alike to share and be heard, to search and to discover, to identify and to heal, and to exhort and remember. The views and opinions expressed here are unique to each woman who takes part in the Birth Interview Project and may not reflect the values of the blog author.

Hi readers! Here is Beth’s fifth interview!  If you want to catch up and get a little more familiar with Beth, go read her first interview by clicking here, her second interview here, her third interview here and her fourth interview here. Enjoy!

Beth and her hubby, Mike. Doesn't Beth carry her babies beautifully! Love that baby belly!

Please give a brief description of yourself, and what number baby/birth you’re sharing with us.

I am a mother of five telling about my youngest child’s birth.

What was your due date, and what was your baby’s birth date?

I was due 12/22 and Rebekah was born 12/15.

What was Rebekah’s weight and length?

She weighed 7 pounds 6 inches and was 21.75 inches.  My tallest one yet!

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I Encapsulated My Placenta | Pictures Included

1 Feb

WARNING: If you click to read this post you will see lots of pictures of my baby’s placenta.

Once upon a time I ate iguana eggs, scrambled up and served with Corn Flakes. I went on a short-term, medical, faith-based trip with my father deep into the Mosquito Coast of Honduras.  The kind woman who prepared the meals for our team (I know, I know) wasn’t sure what to do with the Corn Flakes that we brought, so she stirred them into the local delicacy she served us –  scrambled iguana eggs. Mmmmm, delicious. I ate till my plate was clean because I was convinced I would offend her other wise.  This is proof that I’m not faint of heart.

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Sleep Training Confession

27 Jan

My boy, five months old.

In the last three years, I’ve become more and more crunchy as I’ve progressed in this journey of motherhood. Starting with my unmedicated birth(s), and bed sharing and co-sleeping, and exclusive breastfeeding and nursing on demand, and baby wearing, and baby led weaning and now I’m about to undertake cloth diapering since Zoe is potty trained.

But this week I started sleep training Noah. And that is the antithesis of crunchy. Before you stone me, hear me out.

When Noah was 14 days old, a switch was flipped.  He abruptly changed from the most docile, sweet, tender baby to … I don’t know how to describe it.  He began to cry incessantly and he was miserable all day long. He was comforted by NOTHING.  Not me, not breastfeeding (that seemed to infuriate him even more), not being held, or bounced, or being worn in the sling, or riding in the car.  NOTHING.  He wouldn’t take a paci, he wouldn’t take a bottle with my breast milk. He cried in the swing, he cried in the bath, he cried in my arms, he cried in my mother’s arms, in my husband’s arms.  HE CRIED ALL DAY LONG.   Continue reading →

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