An Accidentally Unassisted Birth

Guys, I cut this birth story down so much, and it’s still a novel. Grab a cup of tea or coffee and enjoy.

Two and half years after my hospital VBAC, I was once again preparing to give birth, this time at home with a midwife.

It was Halloween and two weeks before my due date. I spent all that day working on the girls’ costumes. The dishes were piled high, the laundry was undone, and we had 4 couches in our tiny living room. (2 old ones waiting to be given away and 2 new ones recently gifted to us by my in-laws.)

But it was okay. Birth was easily 2 weeks away. Lots of time to prepare for baby, no?

No.

After trick-or-treating, we put the kids to bed and I worked on weeding out (ahem, stealing) the candy from their stash. A few pieces in, I started to feel… off. I put everything away and headed to bed. 2 hours later I woke up with one of the worst stomach viruses I’ve ever had. I spent all night in the bathroom.

Thanks to my MIL, I spent the following day recovering on the couch, while my husband took his turn getting sick. The girls came home in the late afternoon, and I was feeling better. I cleaned up the bathroom (but nothing else!) and got the kids ready for bed.

About 7 p.m. I started having regular contractions. No, no, no, no. I was not prepared to go into labor. Never mind the state of our house, as a childbirth educator, I knew what tended to happen when a woman went into labor in a weakened state. Long labor, difficulty pushing… I was not prepared for this.

I called my midwife about 10 p.m. She told me to drink a half a glass of wine, take a bath, and go to bed. “If the contractions stop, you’re not in labor. If they don’t… get ready.”

I complied, but the contractions didn’t subside. They were mellow for awhile and I was able to sleep, but about 1 a.m. I gave up and got up. I wandered the house, trying to channel all those stories of women who scrubbed their floors in preparation for a home birth but it just wasn’t happening.

At 2 a.m. I woke Kevin up. God bless him, he got right out of bed. After surveying the already-cramped living area, we pushed our 2 old couches onto the front lawn, redneck-style, to make space for the birth tub.

(Now we had a waiting area for visitors! Who needs a hospital after all? 😂)

Kevin then set about watching the instructional DVD about putting together the birth tub, pausing every few minutes to help me through a contraction. They were about 6 minutes apart but totally manageable. I started to feel better about the labor but I knew (ahem) that I still had awhile before this baby was born. I predicted an afternoon birth. (Side note: this was me over-intellectualizing my birth instead of paying attention to my physical and emotional signposts.)

At 4:45 a.m. I called our midwife and Kevin called his mom to come watch the girls. Compulsively worried about bothering people, I told my midwife not to come yet; my contractions were 6 minutes apart and that I’d call her in an hour.

Spoiler: 25 minutes later our sweet baby boy was born.

After hanging up the phone, I had another strong contraction. I began telling Kevin that I couldn’t wait for the tub to be finished. He urged me to get into our own bathtub, but I was loathe to waste hot water. “You need water now,” he reasoned, “we’ll figure out the tub water when it’s set up.”

Thank God for him. He filled the bathtub and I got in, feeling some relief. My two sleepy daughters crept in and sat by the side of the tub, all messy-haired and wide-eyed. I’ll never forget how peaceful they were, how in awe.

At about 5:05, I felt some pressure. I gave the tiniest push and felt a pop. Relief! My water had broken and I had a minute of a reprieve.

But only a minute. I realized quickly that the baby was coming, and coming fast. I called to Kevin, who was running, literally, back and forth from the living room.

Me: Babe. This baby is coming. Now.
Kevin: (eyes big as saucers) What do I do?
Me: Page the midwife, call the doula, and get some towels.
Kevin: (gone for a minute, comes rushing back in) The towel closet is empty! Empty!
Me: (completely calmly) Get the beach towels. They’re on the top shelf.

While he talked to our doula, I interrupted to say the baby was coming that very second. Kevin dropped the phone on the floor (which was cool because she actually heard the whole birth) and knelt next to the tub.

I didn’t so much as push this time, as I just… stopped holding my baby in. His head was born and I told Kevin to check his neck for a cord. When it was clear, I let go again and our baby boy was born into the water. Not the way we planned, but into water nonetheless.

Kevin lifted him up to my chest, the most precious thing he had ever handed me. I rubbed the baby’s back and he began breathing almost immediately. He didn’t cry, other than a short squawk on his first gasp. All that day he didn’t cry. He squinted at us through puffy eyelids and searched for us with his murky newborn gaze, but he was as calm as could be.

A couple minutes later, my MIL walked in the front door. The girls ran out to meet her. “Your baby brother is going to be born today!” she said to the girls. “He already was!” crowed my eldest.

A couple minutes after that my doula arrived. We added warm water to the bath and covered the baby with a mountain of beach towels. The placenta we put in a bowl and it hung out on my leg until the midwife walked in, surveyed the scene, and burst into laughter. “Only you, Micaela, would sit waiting for me in a bathtub with your new baby on your chest and the placenta on your lap.”

I got out of the bath then, with the help of the midwife, the doula, and Kevin. The midwife weighed and measured him and checked him for any abnormalities. She stitched me up, too, but the tear was minor and nothing like my previous birth. A little while later I realized our doula was gone. Turns out she was tackling our mountain of dishes. God bless her.

This birth was the most peaceful thing I have ever experienced. In spite of the messy house, in spite of the unplanned nature of it, my heart will be forever grateful for the birth that was attended by only my family. Try as I might (and I’ve obviously been trying), I can’t put into words what it felt like to have my husband hand my son to me.

The end. ❤️