Combat Boots and Diapers: Welcome, little one!

Disclaimer: this blog post included photos of a REAL LIVE BIRTH- they are graphic! If you don't want to see it, leave. I don't have to be nice and give you a heads up, it is my blog after all, but I'm going to... because I'm nice.

At 3:25pm on October 22, 2012- the angels sang as we welcomed Leslie Grace Brown into the world.

Less than 24 hours before, Ivan and I welcomed Luke home from Afghanistan. The excitement of having him home and some *ahem* other things, sent my body into total overdrive, and I was in active labor by 11pm the night of the 21st.

I didn't have a single thing packed, even though I was less than 2 weeks away from my "due date!" I tried to sleep through what was going on, but was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I called our friend Brooke and told her we were headed over to drop Ivan off! We showed up to the hospital at 3 am- Luke dropped me off at the ER and went to park the car. I had more than one person trying to talk to me while I was hunched over the railing, feeling like fire knives were exploding in my uterus. I didn't want to talk to them, but kept thinking "Yes I'm effing fine- this shit hurts! Leave me alone so I can have my baby in peace, already!!"

I got admitted, called our doula Vanessa, and called our photographer, Asia. Let me stop right here and say that I loved those two. Vanessa was a rock for me, just like Luke was. She knew what I was going through and was able to keep me grounded when I felt like I was dying. Asia was in the background, I didn't know she was there most of the time, and she quietly supported me along with everyone else.

At 330am when I first got admitted, I was at 3cm. I would have gone home, but for some reason I felt safe. Weird, I know. I like to stay out of hospitals as much as possible. The OB on call was someone I wanted to beat with a skillet. She did my VBAC consult, and I really felt like she was trying to bully me into having a repeat and scheduled cesarean. Not happening, lady. There was a resident who was learning the ins and outs of OB care that was also there. The first question he asked me was "So, what brings you in tonight?" From what I hear, I gave him a look that could kill...I also may have said "is that a serious question right now?" Poor guy..I felt bad after it was all said and done.

We got situated in our room, and I immediately wanted to move to the room that had the birthing tub. I spent most of my time in the shower, cozied up on the yoga ball.

Boy, was that comfy! Luke had hot water spraying on my lower back, and Vanessa kept me steady during contractions.

I laugh at this photo now...Luke told me that I looked like a sumo wrestler in a deep squat. I'm sure I wouldn't have thought it was funny at the time..but now it's alright.

I remember looking up and seeing Asia sitting on the toilet taking pictures, for some reason it was really funny to me. I looked up again and I had not only my main 3 people, but also my demanding nurse Kristi, and my midwife Kyanna.

What kind of party was this turning into?

From that point on I pretty much stayed in the shower, or in the tub, until I was in transition. I had crawled up on the bed and started falling asleep in the 30 second break I was getting between my rushes! I remember being somewhat awake, but not really, when they would hit. Luke would put pressure on my back and I was squeezing the bed rail like my life depended on it.

Vanessa kept an eye on my chart and as soon as I peaked, she would start telling me that the worst was over, and that it was going away.

At 230 I was 9cm with a lip left over from where I had felt really pushy earlier. My wonderful midwife told me that I could push past it while she held it back, but that it was really going to hurt. By this point I really didn't care. I was exhausted, I was emotionally unstable, and I really just wanted to hold my daugher.

I started pushing at 242- this is seriously one of the greatest feelings in the world, especially after your body has been bearing down on its own for quite awhile! I was surrounded by love as you can tell from the photo above, and even though I was completely touched out, it was comforting to have all these people lay their hands on me at the same time, each supporting me when I needed it the most.

At 315 they tell me to reach down and feel her head- she's right there! Being able to be the first one to touch your child as they come into the world is something else. She was so soft, and had a head full of dark hair!

At 325 I roared our little girl into the world. There were angels singing in that room as Grace came Earthside.

As soon as she was placed on my chest, I heard myself saying "I'm not broken!" over and over. My body tried to cry, but it wasn't happening. I was in shock and awe, and couldn't stop staring at my little girl. She was perfect, and helped me restore faith in my body.

I looked at Luke and saw a tear, and knew that the birth that I had so desperately wanted had touched him as well.

Luke cut her cord about 5 minutes after she was born, once it was finished pulsing. My midwife was telling the resident about the benefits of delayed cord clamping, and showed him how to tell when it's completely finished pumping blood. It was nice for someone else to be able to learn from my perfect birth.

I was so thankful for such an amazing birth team that let me control this birth. I was able to hold my baby girl and noone touched her or took her away until I was ready. She didn't get cleaned up for quite some time, and the nurses actually had to tell Luke to rub on her feet some to get her breathing, because I wasn't ready for them to touch her, and wouldn't be for quite some time! She came in at 8.09lbs and 19 inches long.