I’m of the thought that any way that a precious baby safely enters our lives is a tremendous gift. We mothers often have expectations or dreams for birth that may or may not come to happen. I have always strived and fervently prayed for safe, natural births. I’ve been really blessed, after consistently quite difficult pregnancies, to be exceedingly grateful for the stories of each of our children’s births.

Before my first, I found it helpful to read birth stories to better understand the possibilities of what could happen and to feel more prepared. I share my births here not only to record it for our children and to celebrate the faithfulness of God, but to impart hope to those who are uncertain if a “pain-free” and peaceful, spiritual birth is possible. I believe it is… and my birthing experiences are a testament to it! It honestly for me takes a good bit of intentionality and preparation, but thanks be to God, we welcomed our sixth baby just weeks ago, through a beautiful daytime home birth.

I realize my choices and preferences for birth are unusual to many, but I’m at peace and profoundly thankful for how these momentous events have unfolded. If we are open to it, creating and welcoming a new life can be a deeply healing and transformative journey. Thank you for celebrating baby Anneliese Noelle with me, dear sister.

Here is, to the best of my recollection, the story of Anneliese’s arrival!  Anneliese is our sixth baby and fourth girl.  She was the most active baby in the womb and she has been the sweetest, smiliest little love.

Starting and Bustling

In January I began having many days of prodromal labor, then approximately two to three weeks straight of it before her arrival.  It seemed like a never-ending routine of the contractions or “waves” starting and that inevitable jolt of “is this it?!” Besides buzzing around and nesting, I coped in the late night hours by watching episodes of “Madam Secretary,” which was an efficient distraction.

I eventually found myself and my growing little girl ten days past the guess “due date.”  Again, this was after nights and nights of off and on intense contractions, likely making slow but steady progress.  On Sunday night of January 28th, they started in the evening again.

I began recording the waves around 8ish.  They were consistently about 13-15 minutes apart until 10pm, when I texted our midwife Doran a heads up that there hadn’t been a break.  This wasn’t wildly different than other nights, but it was more consistent this time, so I shared with her I was planning to go to sleep and would let her know if they got down to 5 minutes regularly.  I was so exhausted from the entire pregnancy and the rollercoaster of the last weeks, that at this point that I didn’t want to stay awake swimming in anxiety to just have the contractions be inconsistent again.

Doran said okay, and she’d be on standby. 

Each hour through the night I woke up two to three times with an intense contraction, but I just kept aiming to go back to sleep between wake ups and frequent bathroom trips.  I didn’t recall waking between 4:30-6am window, so when I woke to sound of the other four little ones running around, I wasn’t sure what the status was labor -wise.  I tried to relax and wait in my bedroom to see, but any mother of multiple children knows that once the crew of little ones are awake, the home is full of “you may not relax” forces.  I noticed more strong contractions around 7am. Shortly after, I saw Nicholas fully dressed for work and my stomach sank a little realizing he was in business-as-usual mode. The children homeschool on Mondays, and with the realization of what day it was grew a heavy feeling– I just couldn’t imagine powering through the day with the kids at home on my own in this state.

I beckoned Nicholas to a private conversation in the bedroom to give him an update. Now I was teary, sincerely wondering if all the activity/ preoccupation required for a day with four very young children would cause labor to slow down again yet another day.

I decided to ask Doran for advice on the situation, and she messaged back to maybe see if things slowed down or picked up with getting up and moving around more.

So back to the bathroom for the bazillionth time, I started putzing around to get ready for the day. As I put contacts in and brushed my teeth, it was, from what I could detect, the first time the contractions kept going stronger while standing.

I came out and told Nicholas I thought it would be best to find a plan for kids outside the house, suggesting he could work from home until we knew better what was happening.  I had an intuitive sense that if I created space physically/ mentally/ emotionally for it, baby would be able to come.  I was so tired but a certain womanly strength inside advocated for it.

It seemed as soon as this became the direction we were headed, strong contractions picked up and I saw a text come in from Doran the midwife asking if I wanted her to come.  I hesitated for a moment but just responded “yes” and started quickly throwing kids clothes in a bag.  My “let’s go!” mother voice kicked in and I started announcing to the household for children to get shoes and coats on, and to head toward the van.

Felicity, just having woken up, stared at me blankly seated on the chaise in the dining room with no movement.  Maribelle started revving up the whining/refusing and while Nicholas bent down to her level to start some skillful negotiations with her, I interrupted assertively and asked him to just scoop her up and put her in the carseat– no time for Janet Lansbury empathizing this time! My announcements got louder and more succinct: “EVERYBODY! OUT. THE. DOOR!”  Felicity commented later, “you know that was rather abrupt, Mom.”

Aunt Ginger, still in her PJs,  emerged from the basement suite and jumped right in to the mix bringing small humans to the carport. With the front door open I realize, woah, it’s cold outside. Get all the coats in a bag. I was full on momma hen darting from one room to the next gathering all the things. Once little people were actively being buckled, I just tossed a full box of pullups and a huge box of wipes behind everyone leaving on the front porch and closed the front door with gusto.

Once they were off, I immediately got dressed for labor and with urgency said to Nicholas who was upstairs doing something, “POOL, BABE!” 

He answered back down, “yep!” 

I hurriedly headed to our bedroom, put on a hypnotrack on my phone with headphones and started to try to focus into the words.  If I had to rate my top fears for childbirth, for some reason one is not being able to get into self-hypnosis early enough to “stay in it” for when it gets real intense.  It feels like a race to the starting line in a sense, for me to get to a place to relax and follow the prompts.  Once I make it there and do the mental work of convincing myself “I can do this, I can relax,” then the tracks are a reliable, effective guide.  

As the powerful waves kept coming I settled into following the audio prompts in my ear. I could also faintly hear scurrying around outside the closed bedroom door.  Nicholas was getting the pool and other things ready.  I always have a clear birthing time list ready for him that we go over third trimester, and he was intently doing the tasks step-by-step.

I turned up the volume on my phone and lay on the bed on my side to try to minimize any major progression until the midwives arrived.  I had done that with our previous daughter’s birth and I liked the leaning into a familiar template. It was then that I entered into my “safe space” that hypnobabies invites you to create during months of hypnobirthing practice…

Entering Safety

My safe space or bubble of peace is a mental home I’ve been visiting for some time now, even before this pregnancy’s hypnobirthing.  It is my version of the Holy House of Nazareth aka the Holy House of Loreto aka the home in which Jesus lived before His adult ministry.  Tradition teaches us Mary also grew up in this sacred space, and that the Incarnation occurred here. I’ve always been in awe and deep joy contemplating Jesus, Mary and Joseph living their quiet ordinary holy days together in such a simple and beautiful little place.

In my mind it is a humble happy home of stone, with a large hearth centered on the back wall with a fire roaring.  I imagine a small kitchen to the left when you walk through the door and then a little further down on the left, a solid slab of wood under a high window overlooking the courtyard. The wood makes a seating bench that doubles as a nice sleeping place.  On the opposite wall there is a similar wide bench near the fireplace.  There’s also a rocking chair and soft piles of animal skins and a lovely natural broom leaning against the stone wall.

As I enter in my mind, Mary is there and Jesus is there, both peaceful and smiling gently.  Joseph is in the courtyard quietly keeping busy with little odd jobs, and staying close to protect the privacy of us inside.  I imagine Mary offering me the bench under the window to rest. I gratefully accept and settle in, reclining and facing the fireplace. I can’t see Mary anymore, yet her presence is palpable behind me.  Jesus is near the fire, and I somehow instantly know that His love and power is the source of light and heat.

Jesus sits across the room, leaning forward attentive to me. 

He is Calm. Tender. All-Knowing .

There is a deep seated love and joy and confidence in me.

He is Fully Present. Fully in Control. Strikingly Still.

Mary remains close, offering touch and strength…comfort, assurance and direction.

It’s as if they both agree there are the fitting places or roles for a time such as this– the feminine mother enveloping me. Her wisdom, knowledge, womanly care that’s incomparable. 

Jesus is fully present, the Source, very near and reverential, yet deferring to this wonderful Mother of His. He is offering appropriate space, giving Mary a primary position right now.

Joseph is outside– I don’t see his face but his protection and attentiveness is felt. He is interceding! Keeping silent, busy, useful, he is knowing full well Jesus and Mary have me absolutely covered in all necessary care.

I try to turn my attention back to being there, inside.  Warm, welcomed, loved. I am surrendering to birthing time and accepting the beauty, the privilege of this safety where my daughter would be born. It all felt so quiet, simple, poor, and full.

The source of the hypnoanesthia, the calm and strength and focus and sheer ability for any of what I’d be able to offer is Jesus.  I am yielding to Him.

The fire began in a mysterious way enveloping the places in my body where I experience the intense birthing waves, my abdomen, back, pelvic area…

as if His touch IS the fire, IS the power and love, IS His hands and burning heart, IS the contraction power and the anesthesia all at once.

It’s a hot amber glow.

Mary is the faceless voice from behind me, merging harmoniously with the very voice of the woman on the audio track.

Active Yielding

The midwife rubs my arm gently “I’m here.”

My conscious mind registers her arrival and that I’ve reached the next step.

I “click” my hypno switch “up” to remain in self-hypnosis and open my eyes to acknowledge her with a smile (I think?) and then I return back into the audio track.  I have no need to worry about all the material things now, I have full trust everything is being prepared for birth by Doran, her assistant Denyse and Nicholas.  I know them well, convinced of their competence and trustworthiness, secure in their excellent care. I am keenly aware of this safety net set around me. I have no concerns of strangers intruding, doubting my ability, interrupting the holy silence and prayerful flow I was nestled into. While trusting they would give me all the space I needed, I was also assured I’d have these amazing capable persons to turn to with any need.

Doran later told me they arrived at 8:15am.

*I’d like to pause the play-by-play to mention a little prayer that God answered…

After the weeks of prodromal labor, feeling super super super vulnerable for so many hours and nights, I thought how nice it could be to just have a day birth.

Because all but one of my other births “came upon” me like that a “thief in the night” scripture, and because they were so fast, it was mentally (and so then physically) so hard to “catch up” to them.  There had always been some fear and anxiety then in subsequent pregnancies to not know when true labor would really start and if I’d be ready to “catch up” to it. 

In the wake of the other heavy crosses our family had been experiencing throughout this pregnancy, I craved the beauty, the power, the hope of the light of day… being alert and awake and participating actively within it. Whatever the opposite of drowning and suffocating in darkness would be.

Although the dimness and quietness of nighttime in real ways provides a sense safety and rest (the reason they say most women go into labor in the stillness of the nighttime), my heart had a deep desire for the day this time.  I asked God for it. Realizing it may not be His will, I still prayed a simple request for a break in the grayness of long suffering.  And what a grace His granting a daytime birth was for my soul.

Also, amazingly, Anneliese’s name… it means “graceful light.”

So to turn back into the action…

I was in active labor for sure, no doubt that it was a good idea to say “yes” to the midwife coming.  

As I got up to use the toilet, I noticed gentle bearing down starting. When I came back to the bedroom, I chose to go to the birthing ball on side of bed.  Going from a lying down “labor station” to an upright one was a sure way to keep things moving forward.  Historically this has always been a moment during labor that required bravery of me. I’m always fully aware at this point that by choosing this shift in position I am assenting for things to amplify. I looked up to see Nicholas waiting patiently on the other side of the bed.  His to do list was done so I asked him to come close now, and join me for back counter pressure.

I asked for water periodically, noticing internally I was pushing more at the end of contractions.   The waves felt farther apart somehow at this point , like I was being given more rest in between, however Nicholas said later they definitely were becoming closer together. 

I went to the toilet again, felt “pushy.” Standing to wash my hands, “more pushy.”  I felt things quickening.  I had a moment of being a little panicky to get back to my hypnotic “off switch” as it definitely felt like things were speeding up.

Back on the birthing ball, Doran unobtrusively slid in to check the baby’s heartbeat.  I then shared my secret that I was feeling pushy, while quietly thinking I wanted to wait longer before going to the pool…

I had planned to go into the water at the transformation stage, but I was aware that every wave now felt good to push.  It was curious that it didn’t seem urgent yet, and I noticed it was important to me not to move to the pool prematurely.

Doran came into view and asked what my plan was about the pool.  Herein lies a great example of the perfect balance good midwives have of letting you lead, yet also speaking up with their experienced advice when appropriate. She knew I wanted a water birth again. She gave a gentle reminder that I might want to start considering going that way. I smile as I think about it because these moments with my midwives are like when a mother reminds you with that maternal authoritative flair, “it would probably be a good thing to clean your room now,” and your teenagery self knows she’s right, but is slightly annoyed anyway. I didn’t listen to my stubborn side thankfully, and took a second to take stock of where I was at. I asked her out loud something like, “so remind me… if I’m feeling pushy now that means we are just going forward from here, right?”  It’s a bit amusing to me now that I had to ask this, but it was an indication of how calm I felt, and how on some level I gauged the waves were still too far apart to be close to transition.  Nicholas again told me later that they were definitely actively getting closer together then too.  

A quick review of the things I was so grateful for so far, real gifts during active labor:

• the morning sun shining on my face and body
• real warmth from the sunshine corresponding with warmth of the hearth and Jesus’ love/fire/touch
• light breaking through from behind the tree branches– felt like an expression of light and hope and power behind my eyelids
• faintly hearing Nicholas walk around making preparations… filling diffuser with lavender, getting the pool ready, sensing in my hypnobirthing “safe place” him outside with St.Joseph busying and caring for all the little details
• Nicholas joining me at ball with counter pressure adding to the warmth, giving needed reassuring touch
• midwife communicating I was fully capable, through her chosen moments of giving space and checking in 

Final Stretch

After a few more contractions on the birthing ball, I rose and moved to the office/guest/birthing room across the hallway. At this point I was no longer actively imagining being in my “safe place.” 

I wasn’t quite ready to lift my legs to get into the pool, so I opted for a few contractions on the high back chair.  I switched to the hypnotrack for the pushing phase, now listening outloud through the phone speaker. I took off my dress and Nicholas helped me lift my leg and held my arms so I could get into the pool.  I was feeling quite vulnerable now, relying on the supportive presence of our little team.

As I settled into sitting in the soothing warm water, a big wave came.  I pushed gently and slowly along with it, increasing effort at the end, and continuing the effort down even after the wave was over.  Doran asked if I was pushing and reminded me that baby wouldn’t have room to come out in that seated position.  I internally agreed, but also wasn’t thinking she was close to coming out… I decided to adjust anyway, while I still had some energy to shift, I thought.

I got on my knees facing outward over the pool, and relaxed onto Nicholas’ shoulders.  I did several long very intense pushing waves in his arms.

Pretty exhausted now, I turned around and slid down onto my bottom, sitting for the remainder of the birth.  Nicholas was holding me from behind, the midwives were in my front and right view, the crucifix and image of Our Lady of Sorrows were on the wall before me, candles were flickering and it was so, so very quiet.

With the intensity building I started to have some tears and trembling, but thankfully nothing panicky. When resting between contractions, I intuitively did some gentle but strong pushing.

My sight locked in to  Mary, Our Lady of Sorrows on the wall as I shed my own tears.  It was a gift from a dear friend after losing our son Benedict… so profoundly beautiful to have her with me on my own way of the cross.

I began quiet but audible prayers, knowing strength from here was beyond me.

“Jesus help me.”

“Mary hold me.” 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”

Softly spoken, “baby… Baby, you can come now, baby.”

Nicholas began speaking encouragement in my ear now, love notes like, “I’m proud of you,” “you’re doing it,” “you’re almost there,” “I’ve got you” … all while holding my shoulders secure behind me.

I had a difficult time finding a way to anchor my body in the water for pushing.

It felt so good to be weightless and somewhat floating, but I also needed footing to be able to exert the last force needed.  This was uncomfortable. The best I could do, (because there was no way I was moving to another position now), was to brace myself with my hands besides me on the floor of the pool. I ended up pushing down and back almost in a position you’d have doing tricep dips on a weight bench.  It worked for sure in the sense of giving me the stronghold I needed, but right after getting out of the pool and many days after, it was apparent I had strained all the tiny muscles attached to my sternum with that force.

The midwives remained quiet and attentive during this time, with the periodic encouraging “beautiful” as I pushed harder and stronger.  I asked at some point if they could see her (“yes, she’s crowning”) and at another point reminded myself aloud “I’m not in a rush” “I don’t need to hurry” and the midwives affirmed that.  Looking back, I see I was really mindful of listening to my body–I trusted it to work even if I needed to rest, but I also often needed to choose courage to “do my part” in digging deep to aid the effort to put behind the pushing, or to urge the wave to go as far as it possibly could.

During pushes I used low gutteral sounds and exhaled the word “peaceeeee” along with the hyonotrack prompts. It was pretty incredible how the script in the pushing track mirrored my own progress.

Finally the last minutes were upon me. 

Finally I knew her head was there and a breaking fullness that is impossible to express.

We were not far from meeting now.

Final pushes…

Suddenly I let out a shout for help, I felt like something was blocking the culmination.

her hand/ arm was up by her face so Doran swiftly put her hand there to assist… 

and then giving everything I had she broke through!

Then the long whoooosh of her whole slippery body exiting mine…

Her warm and heavy body was brought to me.  From her first home to my chest…praise Almighty God and Creator.

We did it. We did it.

Welcome to our arms, my daughter!

The post A Hope-filled Home Birth Story appeared first on the place she made.

I wanted to start this post that day.  I wanted to start this post a month earlier, actually, February 15th, to remember the first anniversary of when I birthed his body.  If I’m honest I really wanted to start writing this September 15th, the feast of Our Lady of Sorrows and his due date.  Truly though, I wanted to start recording some words weeks and weeks before that, after the summer drive to visit the cemetery, when I first heard “Blue Flower” come up on a playlist and speak the movement in my heart.  That song was the first time any written or spoken language came close to describing the utter ache and longing for this person I could not touch or hold close.  Part of me wishes I had put pen to paper even before that, during the many many many days and weeks of bleeding, both after and before his heart stopped beating.  It would be a way to make tangible an experience, a reality, that now seems surreal to me and ancient history for others. 

The pain has always been too raw, though, and inner the resistance too strong and the quiet space too limited to record the details.  I have no self-judgment on that.  Only great compassion for a grief-stricken mother.  I’m offering her a long tight hug and a stronger hand to squeeze.  There were moments that seemed suffocating and totally unbearable.  But we did bear them, dear girl.  So many turned up rearview mirrors so the other children didn’t have to be concerned about the red eyes and waterfalls of tears. The solo country drive sobs. I’m proud of us for surviving this.

I don’t understand how miscarriage can feel like an untouchable gray cloud when there was just so much red blood.  Bright red, pink red, brown red… so many days of unavoidable trips to the bathroom for analysis and agony.

How can having him and losing him feel so incredibly surreal when nothing could be more real than the lump that forms in my throat.  When my arms and chest live with this otherwise unexplainable pulse of energetic awareness of his absence.  Like they know on a cellular level they are supposed to be feeling his warmth and weight in my embrace.

Baby, I miss you with all of me.  I don’t know how to be your mother without getting to care for you in all the physical ways, without getting to attune to your emotions, give you the best of me.  How do I know you without knowing you?  I can’t watch your tummy rise and fall to your breathing, I can’t smell my milk on your neck.  What would your sweet gummy smile have looked like?  What sounds would you have made in your sleep or when something in your sight caught your delight?  It’s a stabbing piercing pain to imagine caressing your fresh fingers and to watch your tiny toes curl around my own wrinkled pointer finger. The only consolation is this certainty Mary is holding you for me.  I don’t know how to be your mother without you– only that I’ll keep loving you with all of me, always. I thank God you exist. I know you matter , more than I’ll ever get to know.  Knowing your soul is with our Lord makes me yearn to be with you at Mass this Holy Week… please pray for us to be in heavenly glory together someday, please son.

A part of me wants to write how it all happened… really maybe only in case a reading sister needed that sort of play-by-play to get through or process her own baby’s loss.  But the hot tears that come even now… a year later, are too blinding.  The gnawing on my heart is still too fierce to go back and face those minutes of labor that felt like an eternity. Maybe one day it’ll be necessary and doable. Lord, you lead me.

Blue Flower by the Gray Havens

I saw you blue flower

And who’s to say

Where you come from 

Feels like far away

I felt you blue flower

In my soul

You got me longin’

For somethin’ more

Now I want somethin’ more

Where are you blue flower

Come back and stay

Cuz’ I can’t find anything 

Better than this ache 

I had to find you

I had to see you

I couldn’t let you go

If only I could finally reach you

The gardens where you grow

I had to find you

I had to see you

I couldn’t let you go

If only I could finally reach you

The gardens where you grow

Now I want somethin’ more

Now I want somethin’ more

Miscarriage Resources

A mom’s peace

Grieving Together: A couple’s journey through miscarriage

Filumena bereavement resources

Please reach out if you are losing or have lost a baby, and need either resources or a friend to care and pray for you. <3

The post Blue Flower- thoughts on the longing in loss appeared first on the place she made.

Hello Dear Friend, 

Today was my final postpartum appointment for our sixth baby.  Kind of the final celebratory “just checking in to make sure everything is still good” with baby and momma, and closing out this pregnancy together.  Can I share some thoughts I jotted down on my phone “notes” app with you?

This occasion is definitely bittersweet. I remember the very first appointment welling up in hot tears seeing the midwife Doran’s sign “be still and know” in the appointment room.  This was the message given to me over and over when going through the all- encompassing grief of losing our son just months before.  My whole person was grappling with him missing and confused that there was a new baby now without him here.  

Those many first appointments I was pretty guarded, not the chipper ecstatic new momma I automatically felt was expected of me.  Or maybe what I expected of myself?  The midwives made space for me in all this, welcomed me and my baby right where we were at.  

Starting with the beauty of the birth cottage, filled with cozy textures, home-like rooms, feminine art and soft seasonal touches, a place was made for us to be and become. A stark stark difference from the sterile, fluorescent light-filled OB clinics I had spent plenty of time in. I am definitely not saying a more medical model of care is a bad choice, as it can be necessary for some, but I am just commenting on a real difference of attention to the human person that does matter. I’ve experienced this difference mattering in managing anxieties, creating safety and cultivating peace that is paramount for a healthy pregnancy and birth.  Crunchy paper exam tables, being rushed in and out, matter-of-fact conversations are different than a plush bed, generous hour-long appointment slots, and a culture of sensitive celebration.  I am profoundly grateful to have been given the gift of the latter.

Midwives make a place for the “how are you, in all the ways.”  In a profoundly personal process, the raw feelings can surface.  I can relax more, look deeper within, know there won’t just be a focus on whether my urine has protein in it or how many pounds I have gained.  These midwifery prenatal appointments aren’t a replacement for therapy, of course, but a caring sister or mother quietly nodding and listening is absolutely a balm for the often-weary soul of a pregnant mother.  

Although this sixth one seemed like a very long pregnancy, the time also flew by, so funny how that is.  Mirroring the serene country drives to the midwifery cottage that took me through all the seasons, it was a winding journey of sorrow and relearning trust. Watching summer turn to autumn and settle into winter toward spring, He gave me renewed hope.  It took me months to integrate the reality of new life inside me. I see now I needed these drives, the regular (mandatory) appointment on the calendar, to have the space to hear some simple yet big truths:  “Hey dear self, you’re pregnant!”  “Hello! This ride is a reminder you’re growing a baby! You really are!”  “Hi, sweet soul, I know you’re in so much pain, but we can receive joy too, sorrow and gladness can hold hands.”  I needed the empty van, the time for worship songs played loud and in solitude. My heart steadily healed and my soul was strengthened over the months, through those tears of grief and cries of surrender.

Besides the solo drives, I’m also aware of how much I needed those midwives, their persons, to receive me, and to offer the accompaniment that midwifery care is designed to give.   

Midwives in my experience are much more than medical personnel who pop on gloves and catch your baby.   The main midwife this time was there for this baby as well as our fourth.  A wonderful midwife in Minnesota walked with me through my tumultuous second and third pregnancies.  The midwife for my first essentially jumped in last second but took charge like a confident mother hen.  Relationship matters, and they are truly sisters and mothers, holding your hand and heart through it all.   Affirming your personhood, communicating you are capable.  I’ll never forget at the end of one of my births, in a moment of panic asking, “get her out!!!” My midwife looked me gently in the eye and said with a calm strength, “I don’t get out babies, you birth your baby.”  What a message for a vulnerable mother, to be told with loving confidence, “you can do this.” 

A side thought– I love that though I’m not coddled at this point as a rookie, I’m also not dismissed as a know-it-all.  Midwives provide reminders that two years of time since the last pregnancy can erase from your conscious thought.  The simple, “hey, remember you need enough protein… and are you staying hydrated?”  and “remember last time how bad the after pains were? Let’s make a plan for this time around.”

After this final appointment, I feel so grateful for the care and am noticing I’m somewhat sad that my monthly “retreat” out alone, bonding time with baby, “just me” care time built in, in a space curated so lovingly for a woman’s heart… is coming to another end.  It’s almost as if we pregnant mothers are in the womb of midwifery for our own gestation.  But alas, birth always always comes!

I’m asking aloud how this kind of womanly support can be continued after life takes off full speed again?  For the technical postpartum period, yes, but also as the months and years continue in motherhood?  I’m convinced now that this ongoing check in, the reminders that I’m a person with my own needs, the recognition that I’m doing hard hard hard work as a wife and mother, affirmation that it’s normal to always have big things to process…it’s all crucial to my wellbeing.  It’s so very good that my family looks to me for nurturing, but how can I be nurtured in an ongoing way?. How can I keep up this important practice?  How can I offer it to other mothers?

More musings on the “how”… every so many weeks postpartum? A ritual? An intentional sharing? A special drink and a snack to celebrate random milestones? A morning just reserved for self care and checking in and processing and girly beauty? How can we seek to continue uplifting and supporting the mother with little meaningful cares like “Do you need a tissue? A protein snack? A bottle of water? A soft, lovely smelling place to sink into and nurse your baby?” A periodic “you are seen – you look great! You are beautiful! Nice color on you! Love that lip color!” “How are things– the good and the hard?”  The “well you’re not alone and there are women who care and are here for you.” And the ever winner, “what do you need now?”

This is the sort of thing my heart wants to provide through the place she made.  Learning together how to create space for the other, and to welcome them in with warmth and love.  

I’d love to hear your thoughts. Thanks for being here as always.

Love,

Serra Ann

The post the womb of midwifery appeared first on the place she made.

The absolutely scorched state of our garden and house mirrors how depleted I feel in my body after this Summer Season. Overgrown beds, many brown dead leaves, plenty of cobwebs and sunny day play messes strewn about… with little energy, really– no energy left, to address them. 

 Along with the intense drought we had in our valley these past months, our family has been experiencing some excruciating trials of illness, children with high needs, increased stressors and the profound ache of grief.

It feels like we’ve had one trial after another beating down, and a good few of those that we’ve endured for many years now without lasting reprieve. 

Our little town was on emergency water restriction for a good while, so the flowers were thirsty and the kiddie pools stayed dry.  

Daily prayers as of late have basically consisted of, “Lord, please send rain.  In all the ways.” 

I  have found only a few mothers have the same experience as me in summer, or perhaps others just don’t talk about it, 

but long full days on my own with many little ones, 

no matter how much I may strive to create healthy boundaries and care for my own needs, and seek extra supports, are often simply overwhelming. 

I guess it’s not only summer, but especially summer. There have been seasons in my motherhood that seemed like I was breathing more easily, but really much of it has had me treading water in the deep end.

This doesn’t mean I’ve been perpetually unhappy treading water, but I am certainly often quite tired.

It’s helpful in my journey of being gentle with myself to remind myself that I do have some unique challenges. 

I’m off the charts a highly sensitive person, which means easily overstimulated and deeply impacted by intense things… like big emotions for example :).  

 I’m the only introvert amongst our lively chatty energetic family. 

I periodically have symptoms of complex ptsd which can be debilitating.

I’m also a strong idealist, which translates into very lofty desires and expectations for myself to be the best wife and mother I can possibly imagine.  

The struggle and loneliness of the long days is real.  Attending to all the needs and feeling like I just cannot keep up or just that I don’t have reserves to be the gentle skillful parent I know I’m otherwise capable of… it can just be discouraging.

Even so, there is the will to persevere.

The human person is amazing and nature similarly shows us resilience.

Along with weathering the hard, goodness prevails. 

After many weeks of grass growing crispier and the river growing lower and lower, we finally were given a few rain showers. Not enough to lift all the restrictions, but enough to allow a few more cherry tomatoes to grow, a couple lavender roses to bud, and to help my cosmos and zinnias in the hummingbird garden to stretch those last few inches. Small but sure signs of hope, of presence and continued drops of nourishment in the hardship.  

I’m ever learning that what He decides to give is what is best, is truly enough.  Even if my own estimations are radically different, of what one little weak woman can possibly handle, I am not God.  In the lowest of low places of these days when every cell cries out in desperation, “when will you help us?!” there is a soft whisper that I will have the grace to get to the evening once again and see, “ok, we did it, we did today.”  I may be seriously parched with only a few drops of water, but He is still sustaining me.

“Let me be singing when the evening comes… bless the Lord, O my soul”

I’ve been revisiting the album in my phone filled with joyful pictures and videos of the abundant little adventures I brought the children on over these past warm weeks. 

So much time in wonderfully green forests and cool streams. 

There was good togetherness through our Summer Collective of Montessori families. 

Though the sense of total tiredness or burn out of the season seems more salient, I can still choose to see and smile with gratitude and remembrance.

Our children have begun their several weeks of “phase-ins” where they gradually build up to being at Montessori school for the full mornings. 

 I’m taking the small bits of long-awaited solitude as opportunities to reconnect with my own thoughts and heart, eventually and hopefully my body as well.  It’s been good to write and organize my thoughts with you.

I’m anticipating the refreshment of cooler air and space to care more attentively to our home and to revisit creative projects.  

I hope to share some of these intentional moments with you and invite you to join me in 

welcoming Autumn.

If you’re into this sort of thing, here’s a Fall playlist with an “energized rest” vibe that to me describes the beginning of Fall. 

Please share if summer with little children is hard for you and any wisdom that has helped you.  Also, what is motivating you as we move into this new season?  Send me a note, I’d love to hear from you. 

Love,

Serra Ann

The post Entering Autumn appeared first on the place she made.

This was that second trimester when you’re feeling chipper for a few weeks, hehe! It can be challenging to feel cute and comfortable at the same time when the belly gets bigger… hope this gives a little inspiration and sharing sources below if it helps. Almost all of these pieces worked well for winter as well!

SOURCES

all shoes, silk scarf and green sweater: thrifted

green blazer and brown coat: vaguely remember from a discount store like TJMaxx or Ross?

basics (navy tee, camel mock turtleneck, brown high neck tee, maternity jeans): Walmart or Target

amazon:

• lavender knit stretchy high waisted pencil skirt
• gray sweater jacket “coatigan” – super comfortable and warm
• olive green basic pregnancy dress with ruched side and 3/4 sleeves (lots of color options)
• basic body con rib knit sleeveless pregnancy dress with side split
• gauze loose jumper with adjustable straps and pockets

Hope you enjoyed this one… life can feel so serious, especially during big changes like expecting a new baby. It was fun to just have a little fun and affirm our pregnant bodies are beautiful and worth celebrating.

Feel free to email me any questions or if the links change at some point, and I’m happy to help.

Happy baby growing! xxo Serra Ann

serraann@theplaceshemade.com

*the links above may allow

The post French-Inspired Pregnancy Outfits appeared first on the place she made.

Hello, Dear Friend,

Our beloved season of Fall is officially over.

These months were swollen with unexpected crisis and heartache. Life took some turns that we never would have expected and the moments aren’t few when it seems that another ounce more will surely break the worn, taught thread so desperately protected.

The fabric of these embodied souls– can they handle any more stretch? Surely with a loud POP there will be a break– a harrowing hole with a reckless running seam racing into the broken unknown.

We laugh on phone calls because we truly have to.

But seriously, how much more can be taken? This is an absurd amount of stress…

Fight and flight and freeze are frequent visitors. We’ve asked each other (and of course our Father who art in heaven), how can one little person carry these loads? How are we expected to heal, be healed, foster a thriving marriage in the face of trauma, while receiving the onslaught of the minute-by-minute, day and night intensity that is high needs parenting?

Scream-weeping episodes in the calm of cars with no ears. Hot, hurting fury tears released like autumn downpours. And then frustration turned numbness, watching the falling streams just make more mud to wade through and slosh around… chunky, earthy, chilly brown…dashing desires for clarity.

Will there be any comfort at all? A far-off voice is guiding, “breathe, breathe…” but can we fight to fathom (or surrender?) and trust that it won’t always be this way?

1. Storms do subside.
2. The dawn always conquers the night.
3. Resurrection absolutely comes after the tomb.

All spoken truths to each other’s weary hearts.

We may not be able to conceive it right now, but dammit…we really believe it, don’t we?

What is this gift of faith that we share? It really is totally.given.

Rain coats and weathered boots peeling off, entering this other home of safety and surety– that is all Him.

Somehow we are still able to see the Beauty…

vibrant mountain leaves

wildflowers resisting winter

cheese and chocolate in our old stomping grounds

a quiet country drive

watching our children wonder

a happy laugh with the handsome ones who asked for our hands

Days, yes, swollen now with heaping heartache, but days also overflowing in signs of Love, grounding Goodness, promise of Real Presence.

Sister, may your winter months be marked by gentle rest and warmth within.

May our seeds of sacrificial love be buried deep.

Lord, let them die in peace in the soon-to-be-freezing ground, and pour forth we beseech Thee all the needed nurturance for your ever-perfectly timed rebirth in us.

Love,

Serra Ann

The post Heartache and Hope appeared first on the place she made.

“This is amazing.”

“I love it here so much.”

“Can you believe this is our yard? These are our children?”

“Welcome home, babe.”

“Thank you, God.”

There is something about a slow day that makes the space to reflect.

A year ago everything was uncertain.  Like so many, we were facing unemployment.  We also knew it was time to move on from living near the Twin Cities, the cold North.  We didn’t know quite where to turn, where our home would be.  And home means so much to us.

Two girlie girls and a five month-old little guy in our care, the readiness was just as thick as the iced-over lakes to make this next move the one where we could finally plant roots.  We were weary.

Yet nothing was in our control.  Okay, we were in control of our dreaming, of our praying, of our discerning.  We did possess our firm resolve for change.  We could control how we would choose to trust.  The Surrender Prayer was big: “Oh Jesus, I surrender myself to you, take care of everything.”

A string of events later, I’m watching two wooden swings swaying underneath a mature maple, a soft backdrop of blue mountains.  

How entirely meant to be, this place.  For us.

Here is the short version of the complete miracle of this moment:

The end of 2019…

Again, we knew we needed to leave Minnesota.  There was no peace.  A well-loved, but too-small apartment for a growing family, winter lasting so much of the year, the persistent experience of isolation.  But where to?  Our extended family is spread all over the country, so no clear answer there.  We were able to narrow criteria down to: near some family, ability to be outside where we are our happiest, an supportive community in which we could live our faith, and a Catholic Montesssori education.  

Being sure of the last one surprised us, but it was quite helpful, actually.  After spending four years immersed in Catholic Montessori, we were completely sold. Imagining not being able to give that opportunity to our children if we relocated someplace where it was nonexistent, gave us immense unrest.  So I started googling Catholic Montessori schools and making a list.  It was a tiny list.  Out of maybe a dozen possibilities, there were four in Virginia.  The thought of returning to the state where we met, dated, married, and welcomed our first baby, made me so happy.  It was our beginning, our planting.  Some best friends were in driving distance and some family would be much closer too.

Early 2020

Nicholas notified his employer we would most likely move at the end of the summer when our lease was up.  Being a small organization, his absence would leave a large gap and the thought was that some heads up would be considerate.  They responded, though, by just letting him go.  It was a bit of a shock as we still had several months before we could leave our current living arrangement, and it was too short of a time to start and then quit local employment that would provide for a family of five.

 Jesus, please take care of everything.  

Pressing on I booked a flight with the baby to Virginia, stayed with those two dear friends and went to visit two of those Montessori schools.  I got to take a long look around the cute mountain town they are in and felt much joy about one of the schools in particular.  It was a sort of homeschool-hybrid setup on an old farm.  The classrooms were beautiful and the children moved about freely and purposefully. I was starting to envision family life there and it was exciting.

Spring 2020

Job searching.  Nicholas convinced his former employer to let him work a bit longer to buy some time.  That happened for only a brief bit as covid-19 soon hit and they let him go again.  Several weeks of Nicholas working from home while I homeschooled, frozen inside a small-and-feeling-smaller-apartment.  More job searching and applying and networking.  We were aiming searches especially for anything near that Virginia mountain town, but also needed to cast larger nets as most companies were freezing hiring because of the pandemic.  It’s not even easy in “normal” circumstances to find a suitable job in rural country.  Finding out we were ineligible for unemployment was also quite jolting. 

What a season of turbulence.  Physically feeling the lurches our stomachs, trying to just breathe and trust the Pilot.

Nearing Summer 2020

On Nicholas’ first “official” day unemployed, I planned a morning trip for us to the Arboretum, our outdoor refuge.  Coronavirus cautions in full force now, one needed to make reservations to be admitted to the three-mile drive.  As we approached the entrance, I pulled out my phone to find the electronic tickets in my email.  I saw a new email with the subject, “John XXIII opportunity, phone call.”  Quickly scanning the message, I audibly caught my breath.  It was the school, the school in the cute mountain town, we wanted to send our children to.  They were considering finding a new head of school and wondered if Nicholas would be interested in speaking about the position.  They knew his history as a Catholic Montessori principal, remembered my visit and our hopes to move there one day.  I read the email aloud to him and he exhaled.  Shoulders relaxed down a few inches… could this be real?

At this point we already had set plans to move to Virginia.  Our lease was up in a few weeks and we had to go somewhere.  A moving pod was ordered, boxes were being packed and a friend in Richmond offered their basement apartment as a landing pad.  We’d go there and Nicholas would just start knocking on doors to find a job.  Several phone calls and rounds of zoom interviews, however, resulted in an offer from our “dream school” for Nicholas to become their new director.  Catholic Montessori.  Outdoor beauty.  Mild seasons.  Strong diocese.  Driving distance to close friends.  Jesus, you take care of everything!

The rest of 2020

A whirlwind move to the rented schoolhouse.  Starting a new job, getting to know a new community and their needs.  Camping out with small children going through an overwhelming adjustment.  A crawler kiddie in the least-baby-friendly environment.  Looking to buy a first home in a pressure-cooker market.  Offers put in, being out bid.  Offers accepted, horrendous inspections.  Finally, a place in town with a mountain view… not necessarily “the dream home,” but God opened its door, and we know that what lies behind His open doors are far better than anything behind the ones we try to force open.  She is a 1945 cape cod cottage, near the Shenandoah River.  White brick exterior, wood floors and original glam door knobs. Lots of funky-colored walls and needed repairs, but as they like to say nowadays, the bones are good.  The owners before had two huge canines that left behind layers of dog gunk and hair, but also a mostly-fenced in yard perfect for our child-puppies.  You can see different ranges of the Blue Ridge mountains depending on which porch or grassy sit-spot you find yourself.  After a few months of intense cleaning, a terrible bout of covid-19, and a really hard onset of postpartum depression/ anxiety, we had ourselves a livable home in time for setting up the Christmas tree.

2021 so far…

A new sweet baby growing within. We have a little girl coming at the end of the summer. I just completed a time-intensive design project. I’m entirely exhausted but have hung in there.  All the responsibilities at work and home have been at moments very overwhelming for Nicholas, but he too has hung in there.  Our eldest is still really struggling emotionally from the cross-country move.  The pudgy crawler is now a lanky sprinter.  The middle girlie is evolving from a toddler to little girl.  

The stability of a home, the luxury of a yard to explore, is making a difference.   

We are now two weeks away from the end of the school year, and the days seem to be slowing. Thank you, God, for the warmth and length of these days.  We welcome them and ask you to steady us in their sameness.

Around now

The last few years have shown me that I can make all the goals and deadlines in the world for this space here, but life just happens.  The ideas are always bubbling, and the desire to connect with and serve you is ever fierce.  I will need to keep accepting the limitations of the various seasons or life events, and step faithfully into the spaces to create as they come, or as I am realistically able to carve them out.  My sister shared with me once that she read somewhere that some artists just work in bursts.  They are creatives whose lives consist of more dormant times and then energetic springtimes.  I’m thinking I’m probably one of them.

The post New Life, An Update appeared first on the place she made.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

(CONTINUED FROM PART I)

The next morning I woke up to my pre-5 a.m. alarm.  There was a big snowstorm on the forecast. I called the hospital just like yesterday to see if we could come in.  The nurse informed me they would have to postpone us again due to the high census on the labor and delivery floor.  After all the emotions of yesterday, I took it in stride and called the midwife line to make a plan. I was given a message to go in to the OB clinic to meet her around 9 a.m.  So we took the girls to school and the oldest slipped into her normal routine while the same friend as yesterday took the littlest into her care. My mom and I drove ahead in one car while Nicholas installed carseats in our friend’s car and followed a little later behind.

My sweet midwife greeted me with a smile and empathy about getting bumped twice.  Since I had already been dilated at least 3 cm a few weeks ago, she suggested checking where things were at now so we could then decide what to do.  With Nicholas holding my hand and both he and my midwife helping me with deep breathing (cervical checks are usually very painful for me), she determined I was at least 6 cm dilated now.  Because this was considered advanced dilation, and because of my history of rapid labor, AND because a snowstorm was due that evening (we didn’t want me stuck at home having a baby with no help), my midwife said she was able to admit me to the birth center.  It wouldn’t be safe or advisable to send me home.  

I was going to go have our baby today!  I was overwhelmed with emotion again and hot tears rolled down my face while we waited for her to call over to the hospital.

TO THE HOSPITAL

We went out to tell my mom the news.  She had been praying (and telling the other people in the waiting room to pray) that I could have the baby today.  So we all walked across the cold parking lot to the hospital and up to the third floor where the birthing center is.  Once settled into a triage room and connected to the monitor, Nicholas went to move the car and bring in the bags. I answered health questions while we monitored contractions.  By this point I had started to feel some stronger braxton hicks every once in a while (I wondered if the cervical exam triggered these?), but was astounded when the nurse looked at the reading and said I was actually having consistent contractions about 5 minutes apart.  I went across the hall to go to the bathroom and noticed bright red bleeding.

As we were waiting for a labor and delivery room to open up, I started to feel more nervous and got out my rosary.  I ate a cinnamon applesauce pouch and drank water. I put on my birthing time spotify playlist through my headphones and tried to practice more deep, slow breathing.  These songs helped me actively place my trust in God again. I swayed and breathed while Nicholas rubbed my back.  

LAST PREPARATIONS

Soon my midwife came in to tell me that she would have to leave soon, and that another midwife would be with me during our baby’s birth.  I had really hoped she would get to deliver our baby as we had developed a trusting relationship throughout my prenatal care. She held my hand and gave me a beautifully encouraging pep talk, assuring me that this other midwife for some reason was supposed to attend this birth, and to trust that everything is happening as it should be.  After a truly maternal hug, she left and we waited until a room would open up. 

It was time to move into the room where my son would be born!  The nurse asked more questions, Nicholas put on his swim trunks and set up the diffuser with lavender essential oils in the bathroom, and my mom brought out our battery-powered flickering candles.  We put away bags in the cabinets and dimmed the lights. I was having mild contractions but nothing that distracted me from talking or moving. The new midwife arrived and after a little getting-to-know-you and chat about how it seems like my body is already in early labor, we decided she would check my cervix again.  If it had not progressed beyond 6cm, she would break my water.

I requested a little bit of time to start my hypnobabies audio track (about hypnobabies here).  As I knew things could get fast and furious after water breaking, I wanted to enter into self-hypnosis beforehand and ideally stay in it throughout the whole birthing time.  During my pregnancy I had practiced the hypnobabies tracks as much as I was able, but it was nowhere close to the daily frequency recommended by the program. I didn’t know if it was going to be enough to “work,” but was hopeful and determined to try.

I got settled into the hospital bed and turned on my “easy first stage” track.  In hypnobabies, you are able to enter into a deep self-hypnosis, but also go to a place where you are simultaneously able to move around and communicate with the birthing team.  When I was ready, I let the nurses and midwife know I was ready for the cervical exam, and focused on the audio while breathing and trying to relax through the intense discomfort. I felt a big warm rush of liquid exit me onto the bed as the exam ended and the midwife informed me my water was now broken.  I almost want to cry as I write that. Partly it’s a grieving of a completely non-intervention birth, and partly it’s a remembering that as the powerful moment of no turning back.  

SAFE PLACE, BUBBLE OF PEACE

After the nurse changed the pads/towels under my bottom, I labored sitting propped up on the bed for a while, and entered a deeper and deeper state of hypnosis.  I would describe it as going down by myself in a deep, comfortable safe cave, all the while knowing I could interact with the people up above whenever I needed to.  The “distance” from the birthing room above was comforting and gave me a security my peace was protected down in there. I didn’t need to answer anyone immediately or pay attention to various noises going on around me, but could control or choose to react or interact on my timing (when a wave had subsided or when a guided visualization was transitioning).  I felt confident Nicholas would model or remind any medical professionals to respect my response times.

For some reason I imagined emerald green cushions under and around me in this safe space, and the roof of the cave was painted like Our Lady of Guadalupe’s starry mantle. At one point I had visions of all the supportive people in my life on earth and several saints in heaven, one by one smiling with encouragement and filling me with gratitude.

I moved to sitting on the birthing ball at the end of the bed.  Over the next hour or so the contractions/ birthing waves significantly intensified.  I suddenly felt like I needed food and my mom handed me a couple fig cereal bars. I asked to use one of our backpacks to lean/rest my face on and felt the familiarity of how I practiced at home sitting on my birthing ball and resting my head on the arm of our couch.

I continued to follow the guidance and suggestions of this same audio track.  I noticed that I was indeed “deeper and deeper relaxed” and actually welcoming the intensity of each oncoming wave while breathing out/saying “peaceeee” at the height of intensity.  I used this “peace” cue a LOT. I remember the thought, “I think this is actually working.” During my previous births I was afraid/ resistant when I sensed a contraction coming as I experienced excruciating pain.  Deep in hypnosis I was aware that the intensity of the contractions were on par with previous births, yet they weren’t being registered in my mind (body?) as painful.

DETERMINED FOCUS

Even though I wouldn’t label my laboring as “painful,” it was in no way “easy,” and I was acutely aware that I really needed to continually choose to focus and deliberately surrender my body, releasing all tension when exhaling.  At one point I stood up into “slow dance position” with Nicholas, and his movements were distracting/ bothersome to me. I turned my attention to the annoyance, immediately felt great pain and sensed a surge of anxiety that I’d fall out of “my groove.”  I willed my mind to refocus and returned quickly to my position on the ball. I liked it because I felt supported, yet it seemed to be making room for baby descending. I noticed several times more warm water gushing out onto the towel I was sitting on as a contraction hit its peak and released.  This encouraged me that the waves were doing their job and moving my baby “down and out.”

For the majority of this time laboring focused and peacefully on the ball, Nicholas was at my request applying significant counter-pressure on my lower back with a heated clay pack (I’m pretty sure my mom ran it back and forth from the microwave down the hall).  This was powerful for me, not only for the immense relief it gave, and the physical security of Nicholas’ presence it provided, but for how the heat connected to the hypnosis. A big part of hypnobabies is creating “hypnoanesthesia” and directing that anesthesia with your mind to where it is needed.  It is imagined as a powerful, warm, orange light. This is when I began to have a profound encounter with Jesus.

PEACE I GIVE YOU

If you have seen the movie “Risen,” you may remember the scenes with Jesus near the Sea of Galilee and when he ascended into heaven. When the audio led me to my “safe place,” I felt like I was there in that landscape.  I had the image of floating on my back peacefully next to Jesus floating on his. I was totally trusting my body into the calm water and felt an immense comfort in His presence. Then when the audio referred to the warm orange ball of hypnoanesthesia, I saw Jesus lovingly but quite aggressively hurling the bright ball of light at my womb. Each time, it would explode up and in and hot all around my body. There was an immense warmth wrapping around and squeezing me (kind of like those blood-pressure machines). 

Again, I felt the intensity and immense strength of the sensation during the peak of the wave, but it was not overwhelming or frightening. I kept hearing the message “Peace I leave with you, Peace I give you” in Jesus’s strong and steady voice. I welcomed His peace and audibly breathed out “peaceeeee.” How unexpected all this was, and what a gift!

Nicholas later told me how amazed he was at how calm and relaxed I seemed.  He saw I even smiled at times. He also said that I made it very clear to him not to stop the counterpressure, ha!  He said his arms were killing him but there was no way he was going to stop and let me down. I know how good I had it to have him as my teammate.

CHANGING POSITIONS

At some point the midwife came to check in and while the nurse monitored baby’s heart for a bit, the midwife suggested I change positions.  I didn’t really want to because I felt so calm and recalled starting to feel anxious when I had stood up earlier. She was concerned I was slowing labor by staying there. Though I don’t think she meant anything but to help me, I felt a twinge of defensiveness that I knew what was best for me and didn’t want to be rushed.  I also thought it was very possible that since on the outside I appeared so relaxed, it may have seemed that things were not progressing (though I was sure they were). As soon as I felt that twinge of irritation, though, I also had a more humble thought, “well, she has a lot of experience with this, I might as well try to switch it up and see if that helps us get closer to meeting baby.”  

As soon as I started standing at the edge of the bed, I felt a lot more intense pressure of baby’s head and body moving down.  When a very strong wave would come, I’d lean onto the bed on my forearms so I could still “let go” of much of my weight in the exhaling.  I’d try to stay focused in between waves while standing and “swaying” him down. One of the birthing affirmations that resonated with me was thinking/ encouraging my body, “open, down and out… open, down and out.” 

I was super aware throughout all this time how much I needed to keep my mind disciplined on listening to and following the audio track so that I wouldn’t become “derailed.” I don’t know if that would have actually happened, but my mind was actively working to urge my body on, very much like it had done many times in the past with distance running.  I see now what good mental training that was! I learned I was capable of such determination and focus.

After only a handful of these standing waves,  I began feeling slight urge to bear down at the end of a contraction. The midwife had requested several times to make sure I’d tell her when I wanted to push.  They had already filled the birthing tub half-full and would finish filling it up when I knew it was time.

I hesitated at first to tell anyone that I might want to start pushing a little.  Even though deep down I would say I was pretty certain that the urge to bear down was beginning, I had doubts that it was time… honestly because I wasn’t in distressing pain! Part of my brain was remembering my previous births and the overwhelmingly painful transition stage, and I think I was looking for cues of a similar experience.  I gave myself two more contractions to really tune in attentively to what my uterine and pelvic floor muscles were telling me. That’s all it took to take a leap and verbally announce, “ok, let’s fill up the tub. I want to go to the bathroom and then get in.”

GETTING IN THE TUB

Since my eyes were closed and I was so deeply in the zone, I don’t remember who did what or what exactly happened on the way to the tub.  I have a vague memory of peeing in the toilet, Nicholas being at my right, and telling the midwife in front of me as I stood up how I felt really gassy. She said something about that being good and how this could be things getting out of the way to push baby out. I switched the audio track on my phone to the “pushing stage” and unplugged the headphones to hear it played aloud on the sink counter.

Getting into the warmth of the tub was just so wonderful.  People ask me all the time why I am attracted to water births. Water just helps relax my body so SO much, and I know that is the best place for me to be– relaxed, to attempt a natural birth.

I was pretty immediately aware when I got in the water that I wanted to start pushing.  I don’t remember hearing anymore of the audio track. Nicholas soon got in the tub with me and sat in the same spot he did during our last water birth.  It gave me comfort and I assured myself, “ok, we have done this before, I can do this again!” 

BABY COMING AT LAST

I began deliberately bearing down at the end of each contraction.  It all started to feel overwhelming, like my body was taking over but it still really needed me…my mind…my strength…my heart… all of me to engage and step into the enormity of the moment.

I alternated between leaning back into Nicholas’s chest and kneeling while holding onto his neck.

In the leaning back position I used the handrail, Nicholas’s hand/arm and a nook in the tub as a footrest to anchor my body while pushing.  I used low groaning and tonal noises until the midwife suggested I could also try silent pushing. For some women it’s helpful to push out with the “oomph” of loud sounds while others, by keeping sounds in, use them as internal energy to put towards pushing.  I tried it a few times. It took so much out of me to push, though, and I kept saying that I didn’t feel like I could get a deep enough breath to push hard enough to move him. The midwife had me reach down to see if I could feel his head and I could! I laughed with joy and said, “my baby!”

In the kneeling position, I held on to Nicholas’ neck for dear life and rested my head on his between waves.  I experienced a profound connection to my beloved spouse in this moment! This baby was created in our gift to each other and now we were bringing him into this world! Whispering, “I love you…I love you…” at one point I kissed him.

Another moment between contractions, I smiled in exhaustion and said, “c’mon baby! I want to see you!”  Nicholas encouraged me in my ear as it was getting more and more intense and I struggled to give anything more to the wave. Days later he told me he thought I was going to break his nose at one point from how hard I was pushing up against his face.  

WELCOMING

Again, it is fascinating to me how I can honestly say that I was not in pain this time.  My previous natural births during transition and crowning, I truly felt like my bones and skin were ripping open, in an excruciating and overwhelming fire.  This time, I felt a massive, extreme intensity as baby’s head crowned and I pushed with every ounce of what I had. His head came out to my excitement, but the rest of his body would not release.  I kept pushing with everything and it felt like an eternity, him not budging. I shouted to my midwife, “get. him. OUT!!!!!!!” She calmly answered, “I don’t pull babies out, YOU get to birth your baby.  YOU get to do it, YOU can do it. PUSH!”

It still took about three more every-single-thing-I’ve-got pushes before I felt is body start wiggling and burst through into the water! He was whisked up onto my chest as I turned around and fell back into Nicholas’ chest.  The midwife later told me, that this was one of the most moving moments she has ever seen… me completely spent, falling back into my husband’s protective arms with our baby finally in mine.

ALL THAT FOLLOWED

Baby was purple and quiet as they rubbed him and used the bulb to suck liquid away.  I was concerned and kept asking probably a dozen times, “Is he ok? Is he ok? Will someone tell me if this is normal, is he alright?” Nicholas and the nurses and my mom kept saying he was fine, but I had to say again, “NO. I need someone to tell me he is okay!”  Baby boy started crying and the midwife said “yes! I want you to look at your baby… look at him and enjoy this moment!” I calmed down and held him close with inexplicable joy.

After a few short minutes, the cord was cut and baby was wrapped up and given to Nicholas while I was helped out of the tub.  Right away I felt that big urge to have a bowel movement, an indication that the placenta was wanting to be birthed next. I waddled with assistance to the bed and as the nurses tried to help me sit down, I said, “NO! I can’t!”  They tried again and I thought, “Nope! Sorry guys, it’s coming out now” while pushing the placenta out in one big swoosh, a nurse half-catching it in a plastic bin.

I was then helped onto the bed while the midwife checked out the lady area. This is always such a difficult part for me.  I would need some stitches. Even if I totally trust the medical professional, my body wants to fight anyone who comes near that area after giving birth.  So we asked for nitrous oxide to help with the anxiety through the procedure. My mom held my hand while Nicholas held the baby. Using laughing gas is such a wild experience!  It’s SO helpful and I wholeheartedly recommend it to other mothers considering it as a tool. Especially as it doesn’t stay in your system or ever get to the baby if you’re concerned about that. I said some pretty funny things apparently, and when I would hear the baby cry while waiting for me, I would smile big under the gas mask and shout, “that’s my baby!” 

As the laughing gas wore off, I got to finally hold my son and behold his beautiful face with Nicholas grinning by my side. 

Then one of my favorite moments of the whole day… I turned to my mom, told her what an amazing support she was, and then asked how she was doing after it all.  With big eyes and an exhale she half-joked, “Uh, I could use a DRINK!” What a day. What a year.

The snow started falling that evening and we brought our tiny treasure home on a quiet Thanksgiving Day.

BIRTHING RESOURCES

Thank you for reading and sharing in our joy! Click items below to see my birthing recommendations. Some links are affiliate links, which means I may get a small commission at no cost to you.

HYPNOBIRTHING CHILDBIRTH HYPNOSIS

CLAY HEATING PACK

ESSENTIAL OIL DIFFUSER

BIRTHING GOWN

FLICKERING CANDLES

The post A Positive Hypnobabies Birth appeared first on the place she made.

It is a positive, natural hospital water birth story using the Hypnobabies childbirth method.

FACING FEAR

After six weeks of holding this sweet baby boy on the other side of my belly, I’m happy to finally share our memories of his beautiful, peaceful birth.

“Peaceful” is a word I honestly doubted I would be able to use to describe any of my childbirth experiences.  I hoped, yes! I had read a few positive birth stories, but most I had heard or kept in my mind caused me quite a bit of fear and anxiety. My mind liked to hold on to and perhaps prepare me for all the negative things that could happen.

Even though I had two successful natural births with our daughters, that were amazing and beautiful in their own ways, I struggled most in this third pregnancy finding peace approaching birthing time.  Both daughters’ births involved precipitous labors (extremely fast), and we knew that I could expect another fast labor. “Well that’s a good thing, right?” many puzzled people ask. However, rapid labors can be emotionally and physically overwhelming and often even traumatic for the mother.  There is also the real concern of the short window of getting to the birthing location. I think this last part caused me the most concern this time… I would constantly wonder throughout the pregnancy how I would practically get my girls into the care of a trusted person and to the hospital in time (and without significantly “freaking out” our daughters).  It was a fear I’d constantly bring to prayer and ask for help trusting all would be well, but I never was able to fully let go of it before our son’s birth.

SURRENDER

Surrender would be the theme of welcoming our dear boy into this world.  

If you’ve been following from the beginning of this pregnancy, you’ll remember that doctors predicted significant genetic defects and an eventual miscarriage.  We experienced serious emotional turmoil during the waiting weeks before ultrasound scans showed a completely healthy baby. The next step in letting go was marching through (very sick) weeks and months of another high risk pregnancy.  I have what’s called a dynamic cervix which usually dilates very early in the pregnancy putting the baby at risk of preterm delivery.  I obviously have no control over keeping my baby inside and safe until viability, and that can be, in a word, hard!

This deepening of my learning surrender continued through baby boy’s birth and all the way through the present, to be honest.  As we neared (and celebrated!) full term, I began having new planning conversations with my midwife. Up until baby was term, our plan was to call an ambulance if I went into labor early.  Now we began to really address the fear of needing to get my girls somewhere safe, get to the hospital, and hope Nicholas my husband would make it in time! At 37 weeks I was already dilated 3cm and 80% effaced.  I had been having braxton hicks contractions regularly and several days off and on of prodromal labor. Once I had a real scare thinking baby was coming during an evening trip to Aldi. I told him, “not here and not now, baby!”

DECISION MAKING 

When we made it to 39 weeks, the concern of getting to the hospital safely in labor was more imminent.  My midwife helped me decide that if baby didn’t come on his own over the weekend, I would come in to have my water broken and have baby the Monday morning when I’d be 39 weeks and 2 days.

Although I strongly preferred not to do anything to induce labor (personally feeling uncomfortable choosing baby’s birthing time instead of allowing it to start naturally), I immediately felt a lot of peace agreeing to the midwife’s suggestion.  This way I could have our girls settled with a trusted friend, calmly drive to the hospital with Nicholas (not in intensely painful transition in the car like I did with our girls), and start birthing time in a place of more peace and readiness. I had to wrestle with the fact that there isn’t always a perfect, or right or wrong decision (a reality I’ve had to come to terms with so often in motherhood!). I needed to weigh and compare the risks and benefits of inducing or waiting.  Then I just needed to trust my instincts as well as my extremely trustworthy midwife.

GO TIME

Monday, November 25th rolled around, and super early in the morning we were all ready.  My mother, “Grannie,” had flown in last minute to help us and take pictures at the birth.  All our bags were ready. My close friend across the lake made a feast for breakfast and was prepared to take the girls for the day.  It was surreal that we were calmly, not in panic, heading towards having our baby! 

I called the hospital as I was instructed and the nurse sympathetically informed me that we would have to wait to see if they’d have room to take us, as their birthing rooms were currently full.  There would be a good chance they could take me in a few hours, so we went ahead with our plans, took the girls to our friend’s home. Then Nicholas, Grannie and I went to wait for the nurse’s call at the Target by the hospital.  We looked around for a bit, considered fast-walking laps or doing squats to induce labor, instead got coffee and sat in the rocker chairs in the baby section. It was a strange experience, knowing these were the final hours of having a pregnant belly with my baby within.  I’d get waves of nervousness in my stomach, like the feeling I’d get before the start of a race or sports game.  

LETTING GO AGAIN

The call finally came and we were told that we were bumped for the day.  There was no room for us at the inn! I had a good little cry to release all the emotions and surrender plans again (laughing that this seems to be the lesson I need to keep learning) and we headed home.  Since we had free time without children, Nicholas and I went out for a quiet bite to eat. It was a special few hours having burgers, reminiscing and processing our journey to this point together.

Tomorrow we would try to have a baby again!

TO BE CONTINUED….

READ ON HERE IN PART II

The post Our Peaceful Hospital Birth Story appeared first on the place she made.

Woah, what just happened

It’s becoming more common for women to share with each other the reality of post-birth days. This makes me happy as too many are blind-sided by all that goes into the weeks and months of recovery for the mother, There is a lot going on with our bodies on top of all that is involved in caring for a new human!

When I had our first baby, I looked for blog posts like this to tell me how to prepare. After the blessing of a healthy birth of baby three, I’m pulling together a list of my postpartum essentials for you friends who are expecting (or you who want to shower a new mama with practical gifts!)

I recommend getting two large baskets to hold all the things, one for the bathroom and one for your bedside. It’s wonderful to come home from your birth stocked with what you need to care for your amazing body. You may choose to even pack some of these items to have with you at the birth center or hospital.

Supplies and tips for the postpartum daze

BATHROOM BASKET

*click on bold/italicized words to see the exact product*

• Pads/ Underwear: Bleeding is typically heavy for days and then will normally taper off like a period. I’ve found that the heavy-duty pads given by the hospital get me through the super heavy days, then I go to regular long pads with wings. It wouldn’t hurt to grab a package of larger undies you don’t mind getting ruined. I also love these disposable underwear as they have a high waist to support the tummy a bit.
• Flushable wipes for bathroom trips
• Hemorrhoid cream (if necessary) for the poor bum
• Tucks pads for soothing hemorrhoids and perineum area
• Dermoplast spray for perineum soreness
• Epsom Salts for soothing baths

TIPS

A suggested little routine for every trip to the bathroom the first few brutal days: While using the toilet, change pad/underwear. Then clean whole bottom area with your peri-bottle from hospital and/or with flushable wipes. Spray tender or burning areas with dermoplast. Squeeze a dollop of hemorrhoid cream (if needed) on a tucks pad and place it up in the bottom area before pulling up the pad/underwear.

Try to keep the lady areas as dry as possible (change pads often) to avoid a urinary tract infection. As you get further in your week post-birth it may be a good idea to not use all the wet items (spray, tucks, cream) every time you use the toilet– consider alternating.

If the bottom doesn’t keep gradually getting better, don’t hesitate to call your provider or go in for a check-up to make sure recovery is headed in the right direction.

BEDSIDE BASKET

• Heating pad for the uterine cramping 
• Middle-of-the-night snacks like trail mix or granola bars. Not only to satisfy the nursing munchies, but to easily take any needed medicine that shouldn’t be taken on an empty stomach. Pineapple juice is supposedly good for nursing (and delicious). These little cans are in many stores in the juice aisle.`
• Journal or devotional and pen to process and/or pray about alllll the feelings and memories.

If Breastfeeding:

• Medela breast shells… *my #1 must-have* I know a few people who had no issues whatsoever breastfeeding, but many encounter some sort of nipple challenges. With my three children I have experienced bleeding and cracking and friction blisters and even bite wounds (ouchhhh) when teeth come in. These breast shells sit right in the bra (and don’t even look weird) so the broken nipple skin doesn’t get stuck to clothing fabric, while also giving them airflow to speed up healing
• Lanolin cream. I’ve also used other nipple balms, but have found 100% lanolin very helpful with healing.
• Breast coolies...another option for allowing nipples to heal without sticking to fabric. Also just soothing for the normal soreness of the first days 
• Breast thermal gel pads– when used cold, these are for soothing soreness and for slowing down milk flow. When used as heat packs, these can help engorged breasts, get the milk flowing and relieve clogged ducts.
• Over the shoulder all-purpose cloths. Love these for catching milk flow, burping and the occasional spit-up situation
• Brest Friend– I wondered if I could go without this and just use extra pillows, but the support and “extra hand” it gives you makes all the difference in the world when trying to help you and baby establish a good latch. I also love that the covers have a pocket so I can stash little things or my phone in there.

TIPS 

Be patient with your journey, but also advocate for yourself if you wonder whether your postpartum experience is normal. You can ask your doctor or midwife for a PT referral or recommendations for a chiropractor or counselor or psychiatrist… whatever support you think may help during this important time, don’t hesitate to speak up for yourself.

kellymom.com for any questions you have breastfeeding… one of my all-time favorite resources.

CLOTHING

• Baby Belly Band– I also put this on my pregnancy supplies post... it’s a great support for postpartum core healing, to use while walking around the house or when you start exercising, etc.
• Ab/Back Support Binder- helps support your core when you feel like a total gumby
• Hands free pumping tank–another item I initially thought may be unnecessary that proved to be everything when pumping at 2a.m. It can be hard (and EMOTIONAL) to figure out how to hold both pump bottles while adjusting the pump settings without spilling precious milk! This is just so great.
• Nursing clothes- I need to have a couple shirts and/or dresses designed for nursing. Though you can make most tops work in public by having a tank or high leggings underneath, being able to easily and comfortably nurse in public (i.e. very easy access where you don’t need 7 hands for holding everything!) helps you get out a little more when it’s time. Especially true, I think, for mamas with milk oversupply (a post for another time!). A comfy brand is bearsland on amazon
• One pair of high-waisted leggings– for similar reasons to above… helps me get out and feel like a person (when I’m ready) without the pressure to fit into pre-pregnancy clothes
• Compression tanks- again, for when I’m ready to wear “real” clothes again… I like these to help support my tummy and to hold up maternity or loose-fitting pants

OTHER

• Battery-powered low light flicker candles and or night lights– to make getting up at all hours of the night a more pleasant experience. You can see enough to nurse and rock and even change a diaper if they’re close enough to the changing table. We like these so that we are not blinded by regular lights (or using our phone flashlights, ha!). Bonus is that keeping low lighting throughout the night helps baby start distinguishing from the get-go nighttime from daytime.
• Water bottle or jar with top and straw. The straw was a big deal for me the first weeks to be able to stay hydrated while reclining or feeding in any position.
• Mommastrong– this is a $5 month video health/fitness program that is seriously just GOLD. Please look into it. I just started it recently and wish I had had it for every pregnancy and postpartum time.

Connect!

If you’re reading this and about to have a baby, I am cheering for you! I hope with all my heart you are able to receive all the rest and support you need to ease into this time. Feel free to send me a message with any questions or any prayer requests, I’d love to hear from you.

Also, other veteran mamas, please share your experience and comment with your favorite postpartum essentials below!

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Happy Placemaking,

Serra Ann

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The post Caring for Your Postpartum Body appeared first on the place she made.