Homebirth...I remember the first time I heard that word. Or, rather, read it, since it was on a local mommies message board. I thought it was insane. I had no idea people actually DID that. I was pregnant with my first, and I was thrilled to have ultrasounds as early and often as possible. Except...something about a drug-free birth really resonated with me, and I started researching and reading. I found my way to the Bradley method, and forwarded some links to my husband. Who thought I was crazy. But he agreed to go to classes with me, and we made our first foray into natural living, aka, the crunchy lifestyle.
My labors were actually very similar. With number one, I woke up around 11:00 PM with strong, painful contractions. I had been having Braxton Hicks contracts for weeks, if not months, and I was really worried about being able to tell if I was in active labor. I remember waking up, and feeling that first contraction, and thinking, "Oh. Right. This is definitely it." I labored alone while browsing the internet (this was pre-Facebook, too) for a couple of hours, and decided I needed more help managing at around 1:00. I had my husband run a bath, call the midwife, and pack our suitcase, all while running back to me during contractions and pushing on my lower back in the bathtub. What a trooper. We left for the hospital around 3:00 AM, and what a drive that was. It was only about 25 minutes, but it was the longest 25 minutes of my life. When we got to the hospital and up to the labor and delivery floor, we were standing at the front desk, and I dropped to a deep squat to have a contraction. The nurse said, "well, lets get you to a room quickly, then." After being checked and finding out I was around 4 cm dilated, I was angry. Labor stalled for a bit (subconsciously I think I was waiting for my midwife to get there), we rested and I contracted until around 7:00, when things picked up, my midwife arrived, and I felt like pushing. I pushed for about 2 hours, and my daughter was born at 8:52 AM with lots of meconium in her fluid, which prompted them to take her from me almost immediately for deep suctioning. Of course, at the time, I felt whatever was needed to make sure she was ok, but now I know that probably wasn't necessary. My midwife told me later that the nurses had been starting to get antsy--if she hadn't been there, I would probably have been headed for a c-section. Two hours of pushing is not something a typical nurse is comfortable with. We went home the next afternoon, after a long, noisy night at the hospital, and a fight with the staff who insisted they MUST take my baby to the nursery for her hearing test, and my husband could not come. That did not fly with this super-hormonal momma. He went with her. Obviously. Everything was generally normal after the birth. We established breastfeeding well, with no real issues (but also, no real support--I'm really lucky I didn't have more issues, because I didn't really have a place to find help. This was pre-La Leche League for me, which is a big part of my life now).
Birth number two started around 5:00 AM a week before my due date (number one was the day before my due date, so this was a surprise for me). Again, I had been having Braxton Hicks contractions since the first trimester, and again, that first "real" contraction reminded me of the differences. I had insisted that I would not go into labor in the middle of the night (since my daughter didn't sleep well independently), and I swear I mentally stopped my labor at least one time before I truly went into labor. When my husband woke up to go to work, I told him not to. We alerted everyone, and got things settled, and I settled in to labor for a bit. People started arriving at my house, and my labor slowed down. I had a friend and my amazing birth photographer there, so my midwife and her team decided to head out for a bit to give me some space. I knitted and chatted for a little while, until I started pacing and squatting, and my birth photographer pointed out that we should probably call my midwife back. I got into the birth pool and labored for a while, and started pushing around 1:00. My son was born at 1:55 PM into the water surrounded by peace and awe and my friends and family. My daughter was able to come in minutes after he was born (she had been playing outside) and see her new baby brother. Afterwards, I climbed into my own bathtub to rinse off, and then I climbed into my own bed with my new baby to cuddle and rest and nurse. It was amazing. My midwife came for a couple of post-partum visits to weigh the baby and check on me and breastfeeding. We kept in touch by email and phone calls as well. I knew, if I needed anything or was worried about anything, I could text or call her and hear something back within minutes, and I certainly took advantage of that!
Both of my births were good. But the differences were still amazing. I'm actually excited to give birth again. Its one of the most empowering, rewarding things I have ever done. And the end result...well...who can deny that magic?