Time to share the birth story of our littlest, Kayo Revere Madrid.
It’s always so interesting to see how each pregnancy is so different. Of course there are similarities, but even so, each time around it’s completely individual and unique.
I had started having contractions the last two weeks of pregnancy or so. It started with just a couple afternoons with Braxton Hicks, and then increased to every single day, contractions from the afternoon until I went to bed. With the other kids, I think I experienced a total of 4 Braxton Hicks contractions between the two, so this was totally new.
Even though they were surprisingly strong (not painful, but strong), I eventually stopped paying any attention to them because they were so consistent.
So finally we arrive at Wednesday, June 16. Officially 39 weeks (which is the most pregnant I have ever been, and I was not stoked about it) and I had a midwife appointment. She reassured me she highly doubted I would be pregnant for much longer, to which I HEARTILY agreed.
Secretly to myself, I really thought it was going to happen that day, but I didn’t say anything because I truly thought it might just be desperate, wishful thinking.
A quick side note, this was by far my least favorite experience with pregnancy, not to complain, but just to give some insight on why I so desperately wanted to be done with it.
Anyway.
The day went on as normal, by mid afternoon the contractions were back and doing their usual thing, and I paid no attention to them whatsoever. We continued on our normal routine of dinner, spending time with the kids and their normal bedtime at 8pm. I showered after the kids went to bed, and still wasn’t thinking much about contractions. I was hoping they’d magically intensify, or my water would break, after the kids went to bed, but they seemed to just steady on.
I had been keeping Sam aware of the contractions every day, just in case something happened, but since it wasn't real labor there hadn’t been much to fuss over. As we were getting ready for bed, I commented that these contractions seemed to be pretty consistently strong, probably the strongest they’d been, but I still couldn’t tell if it was labor. He’s a smart guy and listened to his instincts and decided to not go into work the next morning, just to be safe. We went to bed like usual, so we could hopefully get some sleep if things did progress, although I had very little hope it would.
As I laid in bed, the contractions were uncomfortable, so around 11pm I got up and just decided to do some small chores and watch a movie until I could fall asleep, or things progressed enough that I could tell it was real labor. So I folded the mountain of laundry that had been sitting around and cleaned up the kitchen.
Around 1:30am, Sam got up and came out to the living room after realizing I wasn’t in bed. I’m sure it looked like I was obviously in labor as when he came out I was kneeling on the floor with my head resting on my hands on the couch, but it didn’t feel super intense to me, just uncomfortable. He asked if I had called the midwife (I had not), and asked what I thought. I still couldn’t really tell, but suggested we get things ready just to be safe.
Sam kicked into high gear getting everything set up. He got out the birth box with all the supplies, set up the birth tub, washed our sheets, made the bed and handled everything while I just walked around the living room and kitchen trying to figure out if it was really labor.
I realize it seems like it should be obvious, being as this is my third baby, but hold on, ok. First of all, it was confusing because the contractions were strong, and uncomfortable, but not so intense that I was positive it was labor. Secondly, their timing was also confusing. They would go from 3 minutes apart, to 10 minutes apart. Then drop down to 1-2 minutes apart, then jump back up to 8 minutes apart. It was really confusing, and I think I was nervous to hope it was really labor, only to find out it was just wishful thinking. Again, I realize this might sound dumb, but I was in the throes of desperate pregnancy brain, so cut me some slack.
At 3am, I figured I should call my midwife, and just update her, and then we could figure out what to do. So I called her and told her how things were going and that I wasn’t really sure it was labor, but she was great and said she would come check immediately. That gave me some peace of mind, and even though I was still concerned that she would show up only to tell me it was not labor at all, or that it was but I was only a tiny bit dilated and it was going to be a long haul.
Around 3:45am, everything intensified, and I was finally positive it was for sure labor. It takes my midwife about 40 minutes to an hour to get from her house to mine, and she had told me they would probably be there around 3:55am. It took them a little longer, so 3:55am came and went and I was getting a little nervous she wasn’t going to make it. The next 20 minutes kind of blur together for me, because the contractions were really intense (intense is just a nice word for painful, FYI), and it was impossible to think about anything else.
For some reason, in my head I had thought I would wait for Karen (midwife) to get there to assess everything before filling up the tub and getting in. This was a rookie mistake.
By 4:05am I knew things were going to happen quick. Poor Sam was rushing around trying to make sure everything was ready, and probably secretly willing Karen to get there so he wouldn’t have to deliver Kayo. Just kidding, he was solid as a rock, and would’ve handled it like a pro if he had to.
I was starting to get that feeling like I wasn’t going to be able to do it, that slight panicky feeling, which I realized looking back was for sure transition, although I didn’t realize it at the moment. A really intense (read: painful) contraction hit as I was leaning on the island bar top counter, and I felt a crazy amount of pressure and then a pop and water gushed down my leg. Internally I was like, uh oh, cause I knew it was gonna happen fast and Karen wasn’t there. Literally at that moment, she knocked on the door. Sam let them in and she came in and set her stuff down. She asked me how I was doing and I managed to squeak out that my water had just broken. She said “great! Let’s check you” and turned to get some things out of her bag when I said “I think I need to push.” She said ok, and then things started to fly. She simultaneously called her assistant in from the car, washed her hands and put on gloves, while telling Sam to get my pants off because I hadn’t been able to do that yet. Contractions were hitting super fast, and Karen asked if I knew where I wanted to be. I couldn’t think of anything so I just squatted down right there on the kitchen floor. She went to check me and said “oh ok, well, we’re gonna have a baby. His head is right there. On the next contraction you can push.”
At some point they put a birth stool under me, and I remember commenting how badly it hurt, which I realize sounds dumb, but in the moment what I really meant was maybe the position wasn’t right. Thankfully, Karen knew what I meant and asked if I wanted to move, but I just figured there was no point.
For the record, and those who aren’t afraid of TMI, this was the only time I ever experienced the “ring of fire.” So...that’s unpleasant.
I felt like I was pushing forever, only for Sam to inform me later it was 3 minutes. Let me just say, it felt a lot longer.
But anyway, 3 minutes and 3 pushes later, Kayo came right out and he was literally perfect. 8lbs, 8oz and 21 inches (my biggest baby) of absolute perfection.
Our midwife walked in the door at 4:10am and at 4:17am our sweet boy was born. Cutting it a little close, but she made it, and that’s really all I cared about.
I will say, the home birth experience was amazing and if we have any more babies, I would totally do it again.
It was awesome to be at home and do things the way we wanted. Thank you Lord for protecting us and for a completely smooth and simple delivery.
It was so fun to be able to get the bigger kids up like normal in the morning and have them come meet their little brother. It was a totally family-centered experience, and exactly what I wanted, minus not making it into the birth tub. But like I said, that was my own rookie mistake.
If you’re a mom feel free to reach out if you have any questions about home birth, I’m an open book and love birth. Let me know if I can help ease your mind!
