This birth
story starts two years before we actually had a birth. My husband and I had
been married 3 years and wanted to start a family. We tried for several months
without any luck. Anyone who tries to get pregnant and doesn’t knows how
discouraging this is. The mental
battle that usually accompanies this set of circumstances is equally difficult
to deal with. It doesn’t matter if its months or years…it still messes with you
in some way. We kept pursing a family until I became severely ill with Guillain-Barre
Syndrome. It’s an auto-immune disease that attacks the peripheral nervous
system and myelin sheath that covers every nerve in your body. I went from running a half marathon in
the previous months to being in a wheelchair and struggling to put one foot in
front of the other for the next 10 months. My autonomic system was also
affected and my heart and lungs struggled to regulate my heart rate, blood
pressure, and oxygen intake. I was
in my senior year at Texas Tech and after missing a month of school; I took my
finals in a wheelchair barely able to hold a pencil. I was on my own with my
husband and family waiting for my body to heal itself. It left me with chronic
nerve pain in my legs, arms, hands and feet, and loss of coordination to do
very basic tasks. It was hard to write, hard to move my legs. My body became
severely disabled. For months, the most that I could do in a day was to take a
shower. The light at the end of the tunnel for me was to be a mom. So I started
physical therapy to help learn how to walk correctly again. My body failed to
function in any way reminiscent of my old life. It always felt like one step forward and ten steps back. I had
to quit school and dedicate all my time to healing my body. My biggest
motivator was being healthy enough to start a family.
In this year,
I educated myself on everything that involved the birth process. I read birth
stories, books, research, medical literature, and case studies. I joined
support groups for people with Guillain-Barre Syndrome and got in touch with
women that had the disease and went on to have children. I wanted to know what
their births looked like. What I found was that every woman I contacted was
either induced or had scheduled cesareans, most while being put completely
under general anesthesia, even if they weren’t technically “high-risk”, their
doctors weren’t comfortable with their condition and just didn’t trust their
bodies. There is also a small risk of relapse with epidural anesthesia. So with all this information, I knew it
was extremely important to get off of pain medications for my chronic nerve
pain, and to find a doctor that I could trust and would trust me and to be
considered low risk in other aspects of my health. After much research, I knew the safest way for me to have a
child was to do it naturally. The thought of being back in a wheelchair and not
being able to brush my hair again terrified me. I had one relapse before and a
second one would be even more devastating. I did not want to go back there…no
matter how small the risk. This was a choice I was not willing to gamble and
see how my body reacts to medications on the day of the birth.
This led me to
one of my best friend’s, Deborah who was also our birth photographer,
brother-in-law, who had just moved back to Lubbock and started practicing
medicine. His wife had natural births, one hospital birth and one at a birth
center with a midwife and doula. She was also very passionate about birth
practices in America and was really instrumental to build my confidence in my
body as I followed her fearless journey to becoming a mother. I knew Dr.
Brinker (Jared) was familiar with midwifery research and more supportive of a
natural delivery than the average doctor. In a lot ways, I feel like his wife
pioneered the way for a lot of us to achieve natural births with him. I really
trusted him because he advocates for natural births, not just because of the
emotional and physical benefits for the mother and baby, but because of
conviction. And lets face it, conviction is the only reason a lot of us do the
right thing even when we don’t want to. Conviction is why women choose to birth their babies
naturally, it’s also why we climb and fight every breastfeeding obstacle to
keep feeding our babies. It’s not for an award, bragging rights, or a pat on
the back. Its truly because we were led to that decision with so much thought
and research.
Our first
appointment was a pre-pregnancy counseling visit, to just see if my body was
well enough to handle a pregnancy. I honestly expected to hear, “ its too soon”
or “I think you should wait awhile
longer.” He came in with a stack of literature, case studies, and information
almost an inch thick about Guillain-Barre Syndrome with pregnancy. The visit
ended with…” I’m pretty confident that you can do this…now go get pregnant!”
Of course the
perfect pale pink lines were the most relieving and wonderful things I had seen
in the last year after dramatically changing my diet to support fertility and
all the work I had put into recovering my body. The pregnancy was pretty uneventful and actually really easy
compared to women that I know. The nerve pain became almost unbearable which
landed me into a chiropractor’s office and ultimately landed me a really good
friend as well. Dr. Hillman (Jenna) treated the nerve pain with cold-laser
therapy, essential oils, and adjustments. The pain became so much more
manageable until the last trimester where I needed therapy every day to
function. I refused to take any medication and take the risk of it harming my
child. I’m pretty proud of the fact that I didn’t take anything besides
vitamins and supplements the entire pregnancy.
At 38 weeks, I had started labor. I labored for 24 hours at
home with my doula, Ashli. My contractions would be consistent and then taper
off and then pick back up. They were all over the place. My doula was
suspicious that his positioning wasn’t right and that’s what was causing the
irregularity. We did everything to encourage our son to move : walking, belly
sifting, essential oils on my back, side laying, sitting on the ball. Jenna even came to my house to adjust
me and put essential oils on my ligaments and stretch them to help them
release. My body was physically spent and I couldnt do it anymore. So my doula
thought we may try to get him out of my pelvis to let him re-engage in a better
position. She said it could be hours, days, or weeks before he tried again. So
we did inversion for an hour in my living room and he totally backed out of my
pelvis. My contractions gradually went away in the next few hours and I slept
for 20 hours, only waking to eat or use the bathroom. Jenna lasered my legs
again because they were killing me after the whole episode. This whole scenario, I was so thankful
I didnt run to the hospital at the first sight of contractions. If I didn’t
have a great birth team, I could have ended up with pitocin, artificial rupture
of membranes, and most likely a forcep, vacuum, or cesarean delivery because my son wasn’t in a good
position. This is the exact opposite of the birth that my heart longed for and
feared that my body couldn’t adequately recover from.
I had
contractions on and off the next two weeks. And my next appoinment revealed
that my body made big progress from the prodromal labor…by the way, I deeply
resent the fact that they call it “false labor”. Some of the most abrasive things come out of my mouth when
people call it that. I mean…come on…false? Labor? Pff…so I guess jogging isn’t
really running then?
So at 39 weeks
6 days. I had the most ironic conversation of my life. I was lying in bed
talking with my older brother when he was worried and asked me what happened if
I didn’t have Wyatt tomorrow. I said “nothing”. Haha! He was asking me about
when women’s water break and rushing to the hospital. I explained to him how
rare it was for a women to actually have their water break before labor begins
and how you don’t typically run to the hospital if it does unless the baby
isn’t full term or if the fluid has meconium. He was baffled by this
information because the closest thing he has ever seen to labor were dramatic
scenes from movies. We laughed together and wished each other a good day. So we
hung up the phone and I prayed. You know those desperate prayers you send up at
the end of pregnancy just because you are so DONE being pregnant, “Please Lord,
can this be the last day that I heavy breathe on my walk to the bathroom.” I do the tidal wave roll out of bed and
as soon as my feet hit the ground…my water broke. It was 10 am. I died laughing.
I called my husband who was on his way
to our farm. I will never forget that phone call…awaiting the arrival of the
first child has so much anticipation tied to it. It felt like we had been
waiting forever. Not to mention that since the prodromal labor episode…my
husband had been looking at me like a loaded weapon every minute of the day. We
were ready.
We checked in
with our doctor, doula, and chiropractor…let everyone know it was baby day. I
wasn’t having any contractions so we just hung out for our last few hours
together just the two of us. Brewed some fresh Red Raspberry Leaf Tea. We had a
lovely lunch, got a redbox, met my chiropractor to get adjusted one more time. It
was 5 hours before any contractions occurred. The fluid was clear, and my son
was moving so I knew we were okay. I started having contractions at 3pm but
weren’t hard enough to call my doula yet. So I just bounced and rocked on a
birthing ball and listened to worship music in my bedroom. Around 5, I felt like I should do some
walking to get this labor thing going.
So my husband and I walked up and down our street and my contractions
picked up to around 5 minutes apart and about a minute long. Our neighbors had
been watching me shamelessly “curb walk” for two weeks previously to try to get
this baby out. This time I was actually in labor and had some funny
conversations with them in between contractions. I texted Ashley and thought it
was time for her to join me. So
she came close to 6 to walk, talk, and put counter pressure on my sacrum during
contractions. I asked mark to go
get us all some chik-fil-a because I thought it would be awhile before I wanted
to eat, silly rookie laboring woman decision. In the meantime, one of my best friends is a
nurse/photographer ,who is also my doctor’s sister-in-law, this is Deborah, was
canceled to work that night. So she came to shoot our birth and came to our
house quick enough to advise me to not eat a lot of food, good call Deb…good
call. My contractions were 2-3 minutes apart and a minute long, but were not
being exactly consistent. My doula was pretty sure that Wyatt’s head wasn’t
sitting right on my cervix and that we should try different positions during
contractions. We later found out that she was right. My contractions dramatically changed while I labored in my
kitchen. I went from laughing and joking between contractions, to being totally
annoyed with everything. I decided it was time to go to the hospital. So my
husband loaded the truck and a few contractions later, we were there. For some
reason, contractions were easier for me to get through with my eyes closed. I
needed to turn the distractions off.
So this is
when my inner-mama-bear-crazy-lady came out. We arrived at the hospital and
they were FULL. It was a full
moon, and the nurse made a comment about all the Christmas babies were being
born. I wish that didn’t embarrass me as much as it did, thanks for calling me
out lady. Anyways, they wanted to put me in triage, “check me”, and make sure that I was in labor. Things got a little wild west at this
point…I refused for anyone to check me unless it was my doctor, and that I
wasn’t stepping foot into the hospital unless I had my own room and was not
going to triage… I mean…I’m leaking water. You think that would indicate that I’m
in labor? So as stubborn as I am…I labored on the brick wall outside the
hospital glass doors until my doctor got there to talk to some sense into
somebody that needed it. When in reality, he is the most gentle and kind man,
He has a such a pleasant demeanor that makes people listen to him. So with all
my dignity and heels dug so deep into that concrete, I wasn’t moving. So for 20 minutes, I made everyone set
up shop with me outside until Jared got there. I mean, I was so obviously in labor. My husband holding all our belongings, I’m
leaned over the brick wall laboring, my doula is rubbing my back, and my friend
Deborah is standing there with her camera talking to Jared on the phone and
filling him in. I was prepared to
have my child outside if I had to. At the time I didn’t feel like any of this
was unreasonable. And lets just be really honest here…active labor isnt
typically a woman’s shining moment of “reason”.
Jared so
politely got me into a room and it was such a rushed process for the hospital
that it didn’t have a bed. I didn’t care though. My team set everything up and
got situated while staff retrieved a bed and linens. My doula started diffusing oils which was so amazing. She
also called my chiropractor to come to the hospital because I was having
intense nerve pain in my legs and needed her to work her magic. I had to have
antibiotics for 15 minutes which I wasn’t thrilled about but when it was over I
was not restricted or hooked up to anything. I consented to be checked and found out that I was 6cm and
fully effaced. So whats a women that’s free to labor however she wants in the
walls of a hospital to do? Get in the dang shower. Let me tell you, I could not
get in there quick enough. The hot water felt amazing and I didn’t want to
leave. It took some acrobatics to fit in that tiny shower, which I was good at
because of all the practice I had trying to shave my legs those last few weeks.
My doula was putting counter pressure on my sacrum, and my chiropractor held
the water handle directly on my back.
Can I get an amen to water birth? These hospitals need to get with the
times. I would have done anything to be completely submerged in that
water.
This bliss was
short lived because we kind of flooded the bathroom, such a bummer. It was also
at this time that I hurled into the sink. Chik-fil-A was bad choice. Note to self: Maybe something lighter
next time we start labor.
I went to the
bed and did some side laying. Goodness gracious, this was the hardest part of
my whole labor. My doula was
massaging my feet with oils and maneuvering my right leg during
contractions. While this made my
contractions a lot more effective, I did not like her for it. My husband had my hand in one and a
barf bag in the other. The contractions were so intense at that time that it
was so hard to be still. I remember just wanting to get out of my body, but all
I could do was lay in a fetal position. Too painful to move, too painful to
stay still.
My nurse came
in ever so often to listen to Wyatt’s heart beat for awhile. All was well, and
I knew it was. Instinct is such a powerful gift. I HAD to move from that position and we raised the back of
the bed so that I could hang over the back and sit on my knees. This was the
ticket. I was not budging. They
would have to pry my hands from the cushion with a crow bar to get me to move.
I must have sounded like a broken record
because at almost every contraction, I said, “ Im going to throw up”. And I
did…one more time. My doulas was
so encouraging and kept telling me that it was okay to throw up because it
would help release my pelvic floor and facilitate further dilation. Jared came in and asked to check me as
it had been a few hours and I was in hard labor. And apparently I said okay,
but when he went to…I may have swung at him. Now, granted…it was during a contraction and it is my
personal opinion that a woman is not responsible for any violent act during a
contraction. He apologized and backed up, while my doula and chiropractor
laughed at my response. I did let
him check me, and I was 7 cm and he was a -1 station. I literally cussed. I thought…”All that work and im only a
7!” I asked ashli to repeat what he said because I was in disbelief. And she
told me and I cussed again. I asked her several times, “ when is this going to
be over?” and “how much longer?”. To which she replied with, “ as long as it
takes, you’re doing so great.” I don’t like vague answers, especially
associated to time. I remember
looking at Jenna and saying…” I don’t think I can do this!”
It’s funny
though. I didn’t mean it. But it somehow made me feel better to say what I was
thinking. Jenna looked me square
in the face and firmly said, “ you are doing it, and you will do it”. I really
needed her voice in that moment. That “ buck up and get it done” voice.
I labored
longer, and at 1:30 am I felt Wyatt move down. I felt pressure and asked for
Jared to check me again. I was 8 and zero station. SERIOUSLY! SERIOUSLY????!! COME ON!
He leaves, and
at 1:40, I’m like...” um, I’m having a baby. Someone get him back down here.”
Deborah calls him and tells him that I’m asking for him. He comes back, and I
was 10 and +3 station. PRAISE GOD!
I hear
everyone getting ready, and I have no urge to push. Not. At. All. So I
didn’t. Everyone told me that I
could push anytime now, and when I felt ready. Well, I wasn’t. I thought ,” nah im good…lets just hang
out.” I kind of freaked out, and thought lets try some hypnobabies…I’ll just
breathe him down…breathe him on down. I have no hypnobabies training. Maybe it was stage fright. We could all
see his head, but I was so not motivated to push. 45 minutes of breathing down,
and the violent rush of automatic-no-control-waves hit me. I could not stop the push if I tried! I
just collapsed into a turtle position during each contraction and my body
pushed so hard. I would crawl back up the bed and bury my face in the cushions,
and collapse down again. I pushed
4 or 5 times, and jared supported Wyatts head, quickly unwrapped the cord
around his neck, and passed him
straight through my legs to me. I
was in total shock and awe. I could not believe that I did it. I PUSHED MY BABY
OUT! My son, Wyatt John Grappe was born at 2:39 AM. I got to just sit there and hold him, look at him, take him
in, examine his little body. He was so alert! I was smitten. The nurse cleared
his nostrils and gave me a blanket which I threw down. I wanted him on my skin
and to rub in his vernix. We did delayed cord clamping, and it was around 15
minutes before it stopped pulsing and Mark cut the cord. GIVE MY BABY HIS
BLOOD! I lay down with him and we did the belly crawl. We placed Wyatt on my belly and he
literally pushed and crawled up to my chest and latched himself to nurse! It
was the most magical thing I’ve ever seen! He nursed so well and there wasn’t
any busyness in the room. While I nursed, my chiropractor lasered my legs. Everyone waited on us and admired him
with us until we were ready to have him weighed, measured, and given a physical
examination. It was at almost 2
hours. I loved that we weren’t rushed; the staff just followed our cues and
worked around us. He was 8 pounds
and 7 ounces, and 21 ¼ inches long. His head circumference was 14 and a half
inches. The nurse laughed at how big his head was, and I immediately
thought…uh-oh. So when the damage was accessed, I was totally shocked to know
that I had minimal tearing! Those “horse lips”, visualization, and relaxing my
face during pushing paid off (thanks Ina May)!
My son got his
first adjustment at 2 hours old. He had a lump on the side of his head from not
sitting on my cervix quite right. The nurses explained that he may bruise and
it would take a few days to go down. Well my fabulous chiropractor worked her
magic and within 15 minutes, he lump was totally gone and never bruised.
The after
birth endorphins are no joke. I felt like a truck hit me, but I had so much
energy! So much energy that I was awake for another 24 hours on the hormone
high! I showered, and let my husband have some alone time with our son. Got
ready for the day and enjoyed all of our visitors the rest of the day telling
the story of how amazing my birth was and how amazing our son was. Our son stayed with us the whole time
in the hospital. We were able to co-sleep with him and nurse as much as he
wanted and needed in the hospital. Those days and nights were so important for
me to learn his cues and how to respond to him. I was not bothered frequently, which I was so grateful for.
So after the
birth, my body freaked out for a bit. Upon standing the day after I gave birth,
my heart rate was totally out of range. The nurses kept thinking they were
getting a false reading. I stayed
for 3 days and wasn’t able to walk long distances. I was tachycardic and short
of breath for the next few weeks with little exertion. I knew what to be aware
of in the case of a relapse so we just kept a watchful eye out. I had a follow up appointment with my
neurologist after Wyatt was born to check in and see how my body was reacting.
My body eventually chilled out and about 3 months later I
felt like I had my bearings again.
It’s so hard
to put into words the amount of appreciation I feel for my birth team. My
doctor is also my friend. My doula is my friend. My chiropractor is my friend.
My photographer is one of my best friends. My husband is my best friend. All of these people had
complete faith in my body to do what it was made to do. The whole 6 hours someone was comforting me, massaging me, applying pressure, talking to me, helping me, making me laugh, or focusing my energy. My faith waivered at
times. Totally stricken with fear. I needed each of them to draw strength
from. This experience developed a
confidence in my body that I never knew existed. Giving birth, and doing it
naturally, was so healing. I have
never felt more empowered, more proud, more like a woman than that day. I would
give birth 10 more times the exact same way if I could. It was magical.
So friends…a disclaimer…birth is beautiful…but its not always pretty. Here is the promised video.
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