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I just gave birth to my third child after being pregnant for 9 months and a YEAR… well, figuratively. When I was expecting my first, I just knew I was going to go “late” and was oddly very patient about that up until the last few days of my pregnancy when the typical “I don’t want to be pregnant anymore!” and “I am going to be the FIRST woman to be pregnant forever!” rants and sobs ensued. Toward the end of my second pregnancy I had been diagnosed with a rare but potentially very serious liver disorder called Cholestasis of pregnancy. I consider each pregnancy a great learning experience and feel that each birth is a culmination of my previous birthing experiences. My eldest was born in a hospital with the kind of practice where 50 OBs rotated being “on call” so there was no way to know who my doctor would be ahead of time.
So, after many tears and heartache, and I had grieved things going different than I had planned or hoped for, Kyle and I talked and prayed and felt confident about having a birth without a midwife present. I believe birth is safest with a well-trained attendant that you can fully trust and confide in. Looking back, I was dealing with some fairly intense anti-partum depression, something that is not only not discussed but not even known in our culture. As the pregnancy progressed, I found I greatly enjoyed the realization that the responsibility really did lie with my husband and I for our birth choices. The following Monday, labor began with a *pop!* and me jumping out of bed at 4 o’clock in the morning declaring that my water had just broken.
As I settled back into bed, Kyle was up and making sure everything was set in his usual calm style.
As the early morning progressed, my mind was stuck on my toddler who wakes up anytime between 6 to 8 in the morning, and is usually very clingy and wanting to nurse.
As Kyle was getting our toddler ready to go, I climbed into the tub that was ready and waiting for me. Almost immediately labor was right back to one right on top of another and stronger than ever. I seemed to be so connected with the subtle movements that this baby was making in a way I had never experienced. Almost in direct response, my little baby kicked and moved and the next contraction came and I finally felt like I was nearly ready to push, like the baby had been able to correct whatever it was that had been holding him or her up.
I had two wonderful boys already and there was a part of me that really wanted this one to be a girl.
I have been thoroughly enjoying our babymoon which feels even more saturated than my previous two.
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The views expressed in the contents above are those of our users and do not necessarily reflect the views of MailOnline. Anyone who has gone past their due date knows just what I’m talking about — that time after 40 weeks can feel like an entire year. That pregnancy went to 42 weeks and 2 days, and it was no surprise when my pregnancy with my second son went to 42 weeks and 3 days. As recurrence was likely, we took strong preventative measures to avoid having problems for this pregnancy.
I had great anxiety over that, but everything worked out beautifully after a long but very empowering and unmedicated labor. I was able to find an incredible midwife to do my prenatal care that fully supported our choices and plans. I also believe that in most cases birth is completely safe, and our bodies are made to give birth and most women can safely birth with little to no intervention or interference. Even with a doctor or midwife, that IS what ultimately happens, but it doesn’t feel like it.

When labor started to feel as though it was just on the horizon we found ourselves in the middle of tragedy. After changing my clothes I was going to go slip back in bed when my 17 month old bolted out of his room, no warning or fussing, with a huge smile on his face as though he knew some party had just gotten started.
I didn’t want to let myself go into good, active labor and have him needing me in the middle of it. Slipping into a fog, I managed a half-hearted wave to them and happily let go to allow labor to take over.
I found myself enjoying sitting on the toilet as the contractions just kept coming with just enough of a break in between. I was starting to feel exhausted as I had not followed my own advice to be well rested at the end of pregnancy and I had only been asleep for about 30 minutes when my water broke.
I didn’t want to feel any disappointment should this baby be a boy and took the suggestion from a conversation with a wise friend to hold and bond with the little one as long as I needed.
After years of raising my boys as a single mom, I remarried a wonderful man who had never had a child of his own.
Five more losses, turned down for donor egg, foster care and adoption due to my age and losses - we have accepted that there will be no more babies in our house. My husband, Kyle, and I decided that we were looking for an even more intimate birth experience. She not only had extensive experience with Cholestasis, but first and foremost I could trust her. While I am happy with the choice that we made for this pregnancy, I am not certain I will choose it in the future. I was so very excited to have this little one join us, but lack of sleep, pregnancies close together, life stresses combined with some heartache in transitions in some of my friendships through that year… the further down the road of postpartum I go, the more I see just how bad that it was.
At 42 weeks and 5 days, we learned that Kyle’s mother had passed away very suddenly and unexpectedly. I felt guilty about asking so much of my husband, my rock, when he already had so many demands on him from every angle, emotionally and physically. It took about 30 minutes of nursing him to get him settled back down while I had mild contractions that varied between 3 and 5 minutes apart.
He started filling the tub but realized that we needed a different nozzle to hook up to the sink. I wrapped myself in my red robe and laid on the bed, on my left side with my leg up over my belly. As the intensity surged through my body it felt as though my temperature would go up a few degrees and I was so hot! I nearly had the entire head out in that push and felt stretched beyond what I thought was possible, yet again.
My new little boy had his had up by his neck as he came out which did cause some small tearing but nothing I hadn’t navigated before.
Despite some mild symptoms that started to creep up, it never became full-blown and I was never diagnosed with it this time around.
We had hired a midwife to attend the birth but felt that we needed to change that plan around the end of the second trimester. It is very difficult to put into words but it’s a lesson I wouldn’t trade for anything. More than anything, I did not want to be in labor when he would need to be at his mother’s funeral. It was evident he needed to go to the store so he slipped out to grab what was needed and a handful of fresh labor snacks, and I slept with contractions gaining in intensity but coming only every 10 minutes. I texted my dear friend, Summer, who lived close that was going to take him should I be in labor during the day. I had been suspecting that my little one was not in the ideal position since I couldn’t feel their back running down the outside of my belly. But with the next contraction starting it felt as though the little surprise I was carrying would move back a bit. When I peered between those two little chubby legs and saw those swollen little testicles sitting there I was shocked but filled with joy! And I know Sandy was up in heaven hogging her last little bit of grandma time while she could and held on to him as long as possible since it will be a long while before they see each other again.

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I could not have been happier with the care she gave us and also could not be happier with how the birth went. I hope that all women who struggle with this are able to find the help, love, encouragement and support that they need.
While our last birth experience was powerful and Kyle was very present and wonderful, we felt just like it should be of him and me, bringing this little perfect being here. But amid the chaos, I also felt very peaceful that this sweet little angel would come just when he or she was ready and all would be ok.
She could tell from my text that I was way too much in my head and arranged her day so she could have him right away.
The contractions spaced way out in this position and from my recollection they were probably about 10 minutes apart. I loved the 150 gallon tub that we had picked out since it was so large I was able to move about and navigate my body to suit my body’s prompts.
After moving my hips around and talking to this little person I broke down and in whimpers pleaded with the baby to move down… letting him or her know that I was ready for them to come and that I had waited so long.
Kyle had reached down with me to bring him or her up to the surface and on to my chest and I just held my prize. While this pregnancy began a little sooner than we had planned, and I certainly had my moments of panic about having two kids so close together, everything progressed very well and mom and baby looked as healthy as could be.
It was a very emotional decision and there were many factors, but even still I am grateful for how everything flowed together. High EPA fish oils made an enormous difference for me during the pregnancy and just general, diligent self care. Also, with how long my pregnancy continued, it is unlikely we would have been able to find a birth attendant that would have been able to be supportive to the point of patience required.
He spent the next few days with his family, helping to begin to sort things out, when everything felt shattered and in disarray. I had some serious reflections with my Father in Heaven about my concerns and there was no denying the power behind peace that I felt. We decided it would be best for me to stay in Denver, and we arranged for me to stay at my doula’s house, with our two children and my enormous belly. I threw my phone behind me to the corner of the room and with irritation declared I was DONE with my phone! It wasn’t something we had ever done together before but we were in sync, just moving together through the laborious task of bringing our next sweet angel earthside.
I remember from my first labor absolutely hating contractions in this position that is was no exception.
I knew I had been hesitant off and on throughout the pregnancy with them coming so close and not feeling ready to have another baby.
As I rounded the 43 week mark I felt discouraged, tired, and impatient, but also grateful that we had this extra time with all that was going on with the family. When I reflect on how attentive and present he was during the labor, it brings on such tenderness. After being pregnant for 40 weeks plus 25 days my baby was finally here! I wanted to snuggle for as long as I needed and had wanted to be the one to check the gender when I was ready. Somewhere in there during all of this, my two good friends Ivy and Barbie arrived and smoothly integrated into the space offering support just where it was needed. It’s not unusual for him to be that way, but being in that state, I felt both powerful and vulnerable and the way he offered his balanced support was not something I could have even articulated that I needed.
After it passed though, I wanted to stay right there, as though it was what I needed to do. My little baby had some clear and intentional movements after the contraction was over and about 10 minutes later we had a repeat of a strong contraction followed by more movement. It wouldn’t matter that there were people waiting outside my house or not, I would always get properly dressed.

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