Fast forward three years and I am expecting Leah. The desire for a birth center/home birth never left me and once again my thoughts were consumed by what could be. I carefully tested the waters with Stephen to see what he thought of an out-of-hospital birth and he was not in favor. I didn't push it but felt super disappointed and defeated and started to try and get used to the idea of another hospital birth. Now, with the exception of Benjamin's birth (he came via a traumatic cesarean section) my hospital births were good experiences that taught me much, but I was always left wanting. I always felt like I had missed out on something that was calling to me. It was that void that kept me unsettled and searching for something greater, and it was that void that propelled me to jump into research once again. I reread my favorite birth book, "The Gift of Giving Life" and kept careful notes of things that stood out to me or impressions I had had. It felt like I had read the book for the first time all over again and the call to an experience outside of the hospital was as strong as ever. I would occasionally share my thoughts and feelings with Stephen who was always so respectful and kind in response, but I knew he still didn't quite understand. During this time we were also in the process of buying and renovating a house out in Stansbury Park so I knew his thoughts and time were pretty consumed by that (VERY large) project. I tried to be patient with him, but it was still hard to feel so alone in my pregnancy journey. So, I walked this path of learning and discovery largely on my own (I didn't initially feel like anyone could fully support me seeking out an out-of-hospital birth). A number of weeks went by and stress with our house and Leah's pregnancy was higher then ever. Stephen caught me off guard by revealing that he had been doing his own research on an out-of-hospital birthing and felt like he had reached a point to where he could support me should I want to commit to that path. I was very excited! We decided we wanted to look at birth centers.
We spent many months interviewing midwives at various birth centers all around Salt Lake and Utah Counties but nothing ever felt right. I felt very much that this birth was meant to transform me spiritually and I wanted someone who understood that and could support me in it. After many interviews I grew quite discouraged. Then finally we interviewed a midwife in West Jordan that felt better then anyone else had and we decided to ask her to join our birth team. After discussing our needs and hopes with her, she was the one who decided that she wasn't a good fit for us and turned us away. The discouragement was heavier then ever and I started to wonder if maybe this was the Lord's way of redirecting me to a hospital birth. Shortly after that we discovered that my placenta was located directly over my previous cesarean scar and that legally no licensed midwife could take me on as a client as I was now considered high risk. Oh, how I cried and cried! I was referred to Maternal Fetal Medicine (MFM) for care and careful monitoring and I starting walking this difficult line of hanging on to hope that I could still have my birth center birth and accepting the fact that I likely couldn't and needed to work on adjusting my attitude towards another hospital birth. This was a very dark and difficult time during my pregnancy that required a lot of faith and prayer, and oh how we prayed for a miracle!
When I was 28 weeks pregnant I had an in-depth ultrasound that would determine if my placenta had moved away from my scar sufficiently to remove my "high risk" label. I held my breath during that scan, trying to prepare myself for unfavorable news. Within just a few minutes, however, it was pretty clear to the MFM doctor that my placenta had in fact moved off of my scar (though it was right next to my scar by a hair line) and while the doctor was in favor of me delivering at a hospital he didn't feel like I was at any more risk than the average, normal pregnant woman to deliver outside of the hospital. It was a miracle! I felt an overwhelming amount of gratitude to my Father in Heaven for such a blessing.
So, the hunt for a midwife continued. I HATED that I had to continue the hunt. I was done. So it got put off for a while and I went into my 32-33 weeks of pregnancy without a provider. By recommendation, I looked into a midwifery practice out in Tooele that was close to home. I scheduled a consultation and hoped and prayed that this was it, that these ladies were the right ones for us. The day of our consultation I finished up "The Gift of Giving Life" and one small paragraph at the end stood out to me. It talked about how all of Heavenly Father's children are blessed with gifts and talents to benefit the world and that the reader should be cautious to not judge a provider by their appearance but by how they feel around them. This was particularly interesting to me because all along I had had this idea in mind that my provider would be an older, more experienced grandmotherly-type and that was what I kept looking for. When we went to our appointment later that night I had an unforgettable experience. The Tooele Midwifery midwives were not much older than me. They had tattoos, facial piercings, one had dreadlocks and they had a different taste in clothing. In my eyes, they were total hippies and not at all what I had envisioned for myself. However, just minutes after talking to them I knew without question that these were my girls and I needed them by my side. They were kind, compassionate and really listened to me. We expressed our hopes and desires for our birth and they were fully invested and supportive. I started crying and blurted out, "These are my ladies! I've looked so long for you!" While I'm sure that was super awkward and weird of me (oh, the joys of pregnancy hormones!) they responded kindly to that, too! Haha.
I finally had a provider and could resume prenatal care. Another miracle occurred and we discovered that for the first time ever I was group strep B negative during a pregnancy! This meant no stinking IV during delivery, which is easily one of the worst parts about labor and delivery for me. We also came to realize (through further education) that there really is no difference between a birth center birth and a home birth. The exact same supplies, medications, and emergency essentials available at a birth center are also brought to a home birth. It was around this time that we decided to go for a home birth instead as birthing at home would be more convenient but also potentially more intimate, which was a big thing for me. We kept this decision to ourselves (telling very, very few people and only people we knew would be 100% supportive), not sure how friends and family would respond and not able or willing to deal with any potential negativity or horror stories (why are people always SO eager to share horror stories?!). We had done our homework, we were educated and, most importantly we were following the promptings we felt we were receiving in regards to this birth. We felt confident in our decision and at peace with our plans.
August 3rd we moved into our home. Our days were still filled with unpacking and cleaning and setting up but it felt so good to be back in our own space, running our own home how we wanted to. Even still, the stress continued level to climb as we still had many projects around the house that needed to be done. By recommendation of my midwives, I made a list of things that absolutely had to be done before baby came and I shifted my focus to those things only. It felt good to have a sense of direction and it lessened the feelings of being overwhelmed. I prayed and prayed that I would have at least two weeks to settle before baby came and those two weeks came and went. All of the items on my must-have done list were complete and I felt a great sense of relief wash over me. Things started to calm down and I welcomed with eagerness the lazy days with my kids. I was blessed with a couple more weeks to just be with my kids and I realized with surprise how much I had missed just being with them, watching them play, reading to them and doing other activities with them. It healed my soul in ways I didn't even realize that I needed, and I am so grateful that God did.
My due date was just around the corner and prodromal labor (start-stop labor over a long period of time, in my case 2-3 weeks) had long since started as it had with each of my babies before. For an FHE activity we decided to make me an affirmations banner together as a family. It was such a simple activity but it brought that feeling of unity and excitement for our baby that I feel we had been missing. We originally planned on not actually hanging up the banner until I was in active labor, but at the urging of the kids it went right up. Looking back, I'm grateful we hung it early because I got to enjoy it for a while not realizing that come labor day I wouldn't even glance at it, let alone give birth near it as originally planned.
By 4pm we determined that labor wasn't actually going to go anywhere anytime too soon and we didn't want to putz around the house anymore, moping. So, we packed up and headed out to my mom's to pick kids back up and enjoy a couple of different Labor Day family BBQs. When we got to my mom's we learned that Ian had somehow contracted pink eye. We decided not to go to the Palmer family BBQ and expose everyone there so we just stayed at my mom's where everyone had already been exposed. Laughing and playing and visiting with family served as a welcome distraction. We had a wonderful time actually, and I was grateful for the little bit of a break I had from hours of contractions as I was feeling pretty worn out. On our way home that night I had 3 contractions that were so powerful, so intense and unlike anything I had ever before experienced that I knew I had turned a labor corner. I was all but screaming and clawing out of my seat. Fortunately, I had taken careful time and preparation to normalize labor and delivery for my kids so they weren't surprised or worried. We actually have spent quite a bit of time reading together about birth, watching birth videos and discussing birth with our kids. They were very fascinated. Stephen didn't want our kids to be at the birth (though I did) but we felt like it was a good idea to prepare them anyway. We've had wonderful discussions and learning opportunities!
True to the fashion of that day, contractions spaced out and then stopped again. Wondering for the millionth time how much longer this was going to go on we went to bed. Sometime around 11pm-12am I was awoken by another one of those claw-out-of-my-seat contractions followed by another one 15-20 minutes later. Not wanting to get out of bed for nothing and not wanting to wake Stephen, I worked through them alone in silence (which is a feat in and of itself!). On and on those contractions continued for hours, still only 15-20 minutes apart. I managed to sleep in between most of them, which I was grateful for. Around 3-4am I started getting some as close as 8 minutes and they got even stronger. No longer able to work through it alone I woke Stephen. I labored in bed with Stephen for a short while feeling extremely worn down and weak, worried that I couldn't actually do this anymore. I cried as I expressed my feelings of defeat to Stephen, who pulled me close and sweetly caressed my face, whispering in my ear his belief in me. It was the sweetest, most intimate moment between us during my labor and his words instilled in me a renewed sense of confidence and determination. He may never fully understand what his words of encouragement did for me just then, as it was the closest I had felt to him in many months. I was so grateful that we could have that small moment together before bringing our baby earthside.
We soon got out of bed as contractions became nearly unbearable. I labored in our room, trying to contain the noise so I didn't wake the kids just yet. I was also in denial that this could be the real thing so we didn't make any phone calls. Sooooo much prodromal and start-stop labor will do that to you. I also wanted to avoid the embarrassment of calling everyone in when it was nothing, especially in the wee hours of the morning (now September 3rd). I'd pace our room and bend over our bed as a contraction started while Stephen applied counter pressure to my hips and back while I growled low and loud into a hand towel. The towel was meant to stifle the noise but for whatever reason, it quickly became an object of comfort. Each contraction I frantically looked for my blue hand towel and held it to my face. I couldn't get through a contraction without it.
Now, one of my goals and dreams this labor and delivery was to have a deeply spiritual experience. I wanted to be spiritually transformed during this process. I wanted to be close to my Father and Mother in Heaven and I wanted to feel the love of my Savior and come to understand and appreciate His Atonement in a new way. I had figured that this would come during the most difficult and final stages of delivery, but I was blessed with these tender experiences earlier on (not knowing that the actual delivery would be much too intense for me to be tuned in spiritually). These experiences are too personal to go into detail here, but I have never felt closer to heaven then I did at that time. I didn't fully realize the significance of praising God through my own little Gethsemane until later, but I am grateful for those connections to heaven I had throughout labor. They were a beautiful blessing and taught me much.
I got into the shower, seeking relief when suddenly contractions were every 1-2 minutes. It was only then that I started to wonder if we needed to call in our birth team. It was about 6am. Stephen made those phone calls while I worked through a couple of contractions and let me know that everyone was on their way, including Brandi, my sister-in-law, who was going to take pictures for us and my mom to come pick up kids again. I made it a point to dress in the floral gown I had bought for labor and delivery. For whatever silly reason, I wanted to feel beautiful on my birthing day.
Brandi was the first to arrive and I was so grateful for her calming spirit. I really needed her there. Concepts of time get blurry after this point, but I remember running to the bathroom to try and clear my bowels out before my midwives got there, scared of the potential of the embarrassment of having a bowel movement during delivery. I even told Stephen to not let my midwives back into our bathroom until I came out, haha! My midwives arrived as I was in the bathroom and I came out to the living room to see them setting up the birth pool. I didn't have my heart set on a water birth but I thought it might be cool to try it out. As it turned out, they didn't have enough time to set the tub up, nor was the hose long enough to reach a water source. I didn't mind one bit though because I preferred being upright in a squatting position during contractions.
I noticed that the boys had woken up and we're sitting at the table, eating breakfast. Their eyes were wide with excitement as they watched everyone rush around and I was happy that they were awake and could be with me even for just a little bit. I labored now out in the living room and my labor took another turn, increasing again in intensity. I remember the boys making comments about how the noises I was making were normal and that they didn't need to worry. It was sweet.
Bryanna asked if she could check the baby's heartbeat, which was normal, and I felt some relief. She also asked if I wanted a cervical check but I was so worried that she'd tell me I wasn't complete and I didn't think I could handle that, especially since I didn't know how my contractions could get any stronger as they were now completely overwhelming. I was starting to get a little screamy and Bryanna had to coach me back down to low growls. Dani arrived somewhere around this point and I was so relieved that she had made it.
My midwives pulled out the birth stool and asked if I wanted to try sitting on it. I was still standing and squatting through contractions, which was still what my body preferred, but I thought I'd try it. I scarcely grazed the top of the stool before I let out a shriek and jumped right back up. The sharp pain from trying to sit was unimaginable! So standing and squatting it was. I moved on from the hand towel as my anchor and for whatever reason I latched on to a particular section of wall right next to the hall closet. Whenever I felt a contraction coming on I hurried to my wall and squatted up against it while one of my midwives or Dani or someone (I kept my eyes shut tight during contractions so I never knew who it was) applied counter pressure to my hips. The most fascinating sensation for me was experiencing my brain turning off and my primal instincts kicking in. I didn't have to think through anything. My body just knew what the baby and I needed and it did it. Very soon I suddenly started making this grunting sound through contractions and I heard Bryanna call to Amy, "she's pushing." This caught me completely off guard. I had fully expected this crazy, uncontrollable urge to push but that was not my experience at all. While it was still very instinctual, I felt like I could have controlled it had I wanted to. I began pushing and grunting like this through every contraction, still standing up and squatting. It felt SO much better to push.
I labored like this for maybe 4 or 5 contractions when someone suggested trying to find relief in our tub in the master bathroom. I agreed and we slowly made our way down the hallway, stopping for contractions. We were just outside Jocelyn's room but by some miracle she slept through the whole thing. I'll never know how, I was so loud.
I did not find relief in the tub. Sitting in the water was very uncomfortable and so I got up on hands and knees and someone drained the tub. I felt super embarrassed because I did indeed crap myself in the tub while pushing and kept saying, "I'm so embarrassed, I'm so embarrassed." Dani and Bryanna kept trying to reassure me that it was normal but it did little to console me. It didn't take long though before contractions somehow increased in intensity again and I stopped caring. I got back up and resumed standing and squatting. Contractions were on top of each other and more powerful then ever. I couldn't believe the sensations I was experiencing and got more screamy and a bit frantic as fear filled my being. I kept pleading, "Lord, please help me! Please help me!" I held on to Dani for dear life and desperately wanted it all to be over. As hard as everything had been up to this point, this was easily the hardest part for me. I felt so incredibly afraid and worn down and I was in a tremendous amount of pain that felt at times to be overpowering. I fought it and lost again and again. I NEEDED it to end.
I needed to know that I was close and asked Bryanna to check me. Sure enough, I was 10 cm dilated and 100% effaced. I cried out repeatedly in relief, "Oh, thank you Lord, thank you Lord!" My mom arrived around this point and I remember her popping into the bathroom briefly with the boys. One particular contraction I felt the baby's head move down. That sensation caught me completely off guard and freaked me out. I yelled, "Her head! Her head! I feel her head!" Dani and Bryanna calmly reassured me that this was good, but I wasn't having it. I yelled, "No, no, no!" and baby's head went right back up. The mind-body connection is amazing!
I started pleading aloud, again, "I need a break, I need a break!" Almost immediately a quiet calm filled my very being and a peace filled the room that was so tangible I felt like I could touch it. No contractions. No pain. No fear. I couldn't believe it! I rejoiced over and over and expressed my surprise to my birth team. Dani quietly reminded me, "Well, you did ask your Father in Heaven for a break." I was deeply humbled and grateful for her reminder. I'm not entirely sure how long that break lasted. Maybe it was one minute. Maybe it was five. Whatever it was it was a healing balm to my soul and I was extremely grateful.
Someone asked me if I wanted out of the tub and I said yes. Dani and Bryanna helped me out of the tub and very, very slowly I made my way into my bedroom. My legs were shaking so badly and felt like they weighed a ton each. I was surprised by how much physical AND mental effort it took to put one foot in front of the other. I ended up at the foot of my bed where the birth stool and a mat was laid out but I stayed on my feet.
Contractions picked up again and baby girl moved down quite far. I wasn't in a ton of pain anymore but the intense pressure was overwhelming. I pushed HARD each time, hoping the end was near. It was here that I finally felt myself surrender. I couldn't control it anymore and I subconsciously let go of the fight and just... felt it. My squats with each contraction got very deep. I had my arms around Stephen and he had his arms around me. With each contraction I'd drop into a deep squat and push, then Stephen would help me back up. I was so lost within the sensations I was experiencing, but I do remember thinking, "It's almost over. It's almost over. And when it is over, this moment will seem so small." I held on to the thought of the light after the storm that I knew was coming and that became my lifeline.
During one push around this time my water broke with a small "pop!" and a gush. The fluid was stained with meconium but it was thin and light in color so Bryanna was not concerned. Just after a few contractions and pushes more I heard Bryanna say, "she's crowning." I wouldn't have known I was crowning because the intense pressure overpowered any other sensation, including "the ring of fire." Bryanna asked if I wanted to reach down and feel her head, but I shook my head vigorously, my eyes shut tight. I regret that now, but in that moment I couldn't move or think about anything "ellective." One or two more pushes and her head was out. I silently cheered, knowing the rest of her body should come easily and quickly. At 7:41am our sweet baby girl was born and she was perfect.
Someone helped me sit back onto the birth stool and my girl was placed quickly and directly onto my chest. I couldn't give her a good look-over for a few minutes because I was so overcome with relief that all I could do was sit back and breathe, grateful that it was finally over. After a minute I looked down at her and all I could see was Benjamin. She looked just like baby Benjamin! She cried her sweet little cry and I said something incredibly stupid like, "I just had a baby! In my HOUSE!" I noticed that she was covered in vernix, a first for one of our babies. She was sweet and healthy and perfect. I loved her immediately.
I looked over and saw my mom in my bedroom doorway, sobbing. I hadn't realized that she and the kids were still there (she later told me that they were waiting on Joss to wake up and then everything just happened so fast)! She ushered the boys in and they were wide-eyed and grinning. I was SO excited that they had been there! The boys oooed and awed over their new sister and chattered away excitedly as I delivered the placenta with one more small push. My mom later told us that Benjamin said, "And there's the sack! And that's a lot of blood, but it's not owie blood." Once again I was so grateful that we had taken the time to normalize birth and to prepare the boys for this experience, even if initially we weren't planning on having them present.
My midwives and Dani helped me settle into bed with baby girl (who was also still attached to the placenta) and the boys climbed on up with us, still ooing and awing. Ian especially was very attached to his new sister and would not leave her side. Dani helped me with our first latch and baby nursed like a champ, then were pretty much left alone for a good amount of time (time is still an iffy concept at this point). No one rushed us. Jocelyn had woken up at this point and my mom brought her in to see the baby. She was still groggy from sleep and didn't seem to understand what was going on, but I was happy that she was there. My little family and I just basked in that endorphin and oxytocin high which was thick and heavy. I loved it all.
I was in awe over the difference in experience between my hospital births and with what had happened at home. No standard protocol IV. No room filled with people I didn't know and who didn't know me. No one told me when and where and how to labor or push. No counting and holding my breath during pushing (I'm more convinced now that this practice lead to my hyperventilating with my first three births). No immediate chord clamping and cutting. No waiting to hold my baby. No immediate newborn exam and cleaning (minus the initial couple heart rate checks to make sure baby was well, and that was done on my chest). No one cared what the clock was saying and everyone waited for my cue that we were ready for exams. We were blissfully left alone while my midwives cleaned and packed up. It felt like heaven!
When we were good and ready the exams took place next to me on our bed. Benjamin asked if he could cut the chord and I was excited to be able to witness that. He had latched onto one midwife in particular, Melissa, and followed her around asking her endless questions. One of those questions was, "Why do you have nails in your face?" I about died of embarrassment (Melissa has some facial piercings). Melissa was very kind and patient with him, bless her heart.
Baby girl was a surprising 9 lbs and half an ounce and 19.25 inches long! She was a big girl! My second biggest baby (Benjamin being the biggest at 9 lbs 5 oz). She and I were still doing very well, perfectly happy and healthy. It wasn't until she was five days old that she was named our little Leah Noelle.
After exams were complete and everything was cleaned and packed up, my midwives and Dani headed out along with my mom and our three oldest kiddos. Brandi stayed for a bit longer, helping me get showered and cleaned up and making sure Stephen and I had something to eat. I will be forever grateful that she was able to be at our birth and take photos, but also for her calming and peaceful presence. I really needed her there and she blessed us in tremendous and significant ways. I am also grateful that timing worked out as such that my mom and kids were present for labor, delivery (my mom got to witness delivery) and immediate postpartum. Those are memories I will forever cherish.
Stephen and I settled into bed with our new daughter and Stephen immediately fell asleep. Adrenaline was still pumping through me so I couldn't sleep but I enjoyed the quiet, cuddling my girl. Many people have asked me since if I would do a home birth again and I don't know how to answer them. Truth be told, it was one of the HARDEST things I have ever done. It was absolutely terrifying. It was grueling. It was unbelievably painful and completely overwhelming and intense. But, it was also one of the most incredible experiences of my life- one that touched me so deeply and blessed my life with such great beauty and meaning that I will never be the same. Welcome earthside, baby girl. We love you.
First family photo!
My doula, Dani.
My midwives from Tooele Midwifery.
Melissa, Bryanna and Amy.
My sister-in-law, Brandi.
Me and my mama.
Leah Noelle Palmer
September 3, 2019 at 7:41 am
9 lbs .5 oz, 19.25 inches
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