Well, Thomas More Gutridge is almost 1 year old....and I'm just now getting around to writing his birth story.
Oops.
Can I blame it on #6thchildproblems?
Let's first talk about his middle name. Trent and are notoriously bad about picking out names in a timely manner. While Trent was on retreat during my pregnancy with Thomas, he heard a talk about St. Thomas More. It really spoke to him, and a few weeks before Thomas was born, we decided upon the name. We like to use the full names of Saints when we name our kids so they are not confused about which one after whom they are named. But...More? We wrestled with this...is he going to be made fun of? I envisioned him in 20 years at a college basketball game, with the crowds chanting: "WE! WANT! MORE!....WE! WANT! MORE!" This could be good...or bad...but ultimately we decided that we liked the full name, and we didn't care what anyone else thought. Spoken like a true Millenial. We also really connected with Thomas More's stance on standing for what is right, even when government leaders are trying to force their wills upon their subjects.
(Sound familiar? Covid, anyone?)
We were sick and tired of the 'vid, and feeling like we need more Thomas Mores out there who are willing to die for what is right and good. So...Thomas More, here we are.
So now we can back up to the birth story. Because we are nuts (see Fulton's birth story), we decided to have another home birth. Please read Fulton's story to see my caveat about how I understand the polarizing issue of homebirth and whether or not it is safe..and I'm not here to change anyone's minds.
SO.
My pregnancy was pretty normal (see Max's birth story if you want a harrowing story of medical-journal-worthy illness stories and near death experiences). Thanks to Trim Healthy Mama way of eating and their made-for-women exercise program (which can be used in any stage of life, including pregnancy) that focuses on strengthening the pelvic floor, I actually felt better during this pregnancy than I have in any of my others.
When the time was drawing closer for his birth, my good friend Trena (she and her husband are Thomas's godparents!) asked my if she could pray for me. "What day and time do you want to give birth?" she asked. I had never even considered asking God such a specific request. "Labor day weekend...3pm" I decided. It really struck me that she had such a close relationship with God and that she had so much trust in Him that she would ask such a small detail of Him. It has actually changed my own relationship with Jesus.
My due date was September 3...Labor day was September 6 (Rose's birthday!). We decided to arrange for the kids to go to our parents house that weekend, just in case. September 3 came, and I felt totally normal. For a week or two I had been having prodromal labor, but I realized by now that this was part of what happens to me and I continually assumed it was not real labor. I remember going to a homeschool park day on my due date and hoping that all the walking and activity would start things up.
That night, we had a birthday party for Rose.
Nothing happened.
I was a bit disappointed, but not surprised.
Trent and I planned what fun food we would make that weekend while the kids were gone. We always like to make fun, intricate meals when we are by ourselves...things we would never normally make for the whole family. I like to call it "fussy food". We decided upon Philly Cheesesteak sandwiches for Saturday night and Ina Garten's fried chicken sandwiches for Sunday night.
Saturday morning came...nothing. We went to the grocery store together to get the ingredients (isn't it funny when you make fancier food you end up spending the same amount for two meals that you would normally spend in a whole week for your family? Wait...doesn't that happen to anyone else?)
We went to confession Saturday afternoon. After confession, I was feeling very emotional about my upcoming birth, and I had an encounter with Mother Mary. She told me she was with me, and I should not fear. I started to cry in the pew, knowing that I was taken care of.
We made the delicious Philly cheesesteaks Saturday night. I remember experiencing intense burning on my skin in my hands from cutting the peppers. I soaked them in a mixture of baking soda and water to soothe it. I remember thinking it would be really annoying to have to deal with that while I was in labor...if it happened.
I was having contractions on and off for a few days, but still ignored them. I noticed that after we were done eating the cheesesteaks, they seemed to get more regular. About 10-15 minutes apart. I mentioned it to Trent, but said it probably wasn't the real thing.
We went to bed, and as usual Trent immediately fell asleep while I lay awake thinking. The contractions were definitely not stopping. I decided to watch Ina Garten episodes of Barefoot Contessa, which I had been watching during the last few weeks of my pregnancy when I couldn't sleep.
(Side note...Ina Garten episodes are extremely relaxing...and if you ever have trouble sleeping, you should try it out.)
I downloaded the contraction timer and started timing. They were coming regularly, every 10-15 minutes. I started to think that this was the real thing.
Around 3 or 4am, I finally decided to wake Trent up. I told him the contractions were regular and that this might be it. I was feeling very frustrated because, although they were coming regularly and very strongly, the were not getting closer together. I called my doula at 5am and asked her what to do. She suggested doing a Miles Circuit (holding your body in different positions for certain amounts of time that are supposed to encourage labor to come along). I remember feeling very uncomfortable and frustrated when trying these exercises.
At 7am, I called my midwife and told her the baby was probably going to be born today. Still, the contractions were not getting any closer together. They were about 10-15 minutes apart, although strong. She told me that can happen sometimes and that I shouldn't feel discouraged.
A few hours went by, and the contractions STILL were not getting closer together. I was really starting to feel frustrated and I didn't understand what was happening. It certainly FELT like real labor, and the contractions were very strong...so why weren't things moving along??
At around noon, I got in the shower to try to relax. All the sudden...my contractions got VERY strong and very close together. I've had babies before...and I knew what this feeling was. THE BABY WAS COMING, AND HE WAS COMING NOW.
I yelled for Trent and told him he was going to have to deliver the baby. I started feeling like I needed to push. Trent was frantically trying to get the labor tub filled and was dumping buckets of water into the sink (I only later found out that he had started to fill the tub without putting the liner in first, so he was trying to empty the water so he could put the liner in. He called the midwife and told her she needed to get here NOW. Same with the doula. He got the tub filled quickly, and I could feel that I was going through transition. I got into the tub and prepared to push, praying that the midwife would get there in time.
I stepped into the tub and felt the immediate relief that hot water brings me during labor. I breathed a sigh of relief and enjoyed the relief.
But then...I realized, it's TOO MUCH RELIEF.
My contractions just...stopped.
At that moment, my doula walked in, followed by my midwife a few minutes later. Instead of arriving to me in the midst of pushing my baby out like they expected, I was totally calm and acting like I was not even in labor.
Let's just stop here a moment and talk about how one of every pregnant woman's worst fears is "calling wolf"...arriving at the hospital or calling the midwife with surety that the baby is coming soon...only to find out that, nope, sorry, nothing is happening...go home.
I was...MORTIFIED. I would have bet tons of money while I was in that shower that the baby would be born in a matter of minutes. His coming was imminent...I just knew it. 6th baby, this isn't my first rodeo.
But when I stepped into that tub, it all went away. I apologized profusely to my team and told them that really, I thought birth was imminent. Probably to make me feel better, my midwife suggested we check my cervix to see how far along I was.
Turns out, I was 10 cm. WHEW. I wasn't nuts!! She said this happens sometimes, and my body probably needed a break. It was still very weird to me, because nothing like this had ever happened to me before.
I felt calmer and more relaxed than I had felt in days. No pain, no contractions. The minutes went by. I kept apologizing, and trying to figure out why I was in this trance like state.
My midwife eventually saw that I had a cervical lip, which could have been part of the reason that labor stalled. We think that if that lip would not have been there, Thomas would have been born in my shower.
She suggested that if I wanted labor to pick up again, I should try to get out of the tub. She also suggested I sit on the toilet, which every woman who has labored knows is THE WORST when you are close to giving birth. And the reason it is THE WORST is because that squatting position really moves things along.
I did what I was told, and she moved me to my bed. Things picked up faster and more intense than they had been, and that's when she tried to push back the cervical lip. This had happened to me before in Mary's birth, and I vaguely remember how terrible that had been. I was on my side, trying to relax and not doing a great job of it. All the sudden, my water broke, my body took over, and it started to push. I say "it" started to push because I really had nothing to do with it. I had little control over it, which is kind of cool and strange at the same time.
My midwife told me to get on my hands and knees as he was coming out (I think because his shoulder might have been stuck...he was a big boy). I again did what I was told, and out he came.
And I cried of relief and happiness and wonder and awe as they put him on my chest...there really is nothing like meeting that little babe you have been growing in your own body for 9 months...that feeling of "finally, FINALLY! You are here!"
They weighed him...9lb, 3oz. My biggest baby. A year later, he remains my biggest baby. I have always dreamed of having an adorably chubby fat baby, so well nourished from my own breastmilk...and I have finally gotten that with Thomas!
He has been my best post partum experience by a landslide. Just to be clear, there have still been times where I have felt depressed and so tired I couldn't see straight and not sure if I could go on. But on the whole, I have felt great. I really believe this is due to a variety of factors, all of which I have finally figured out based on my own body what works best for me and my babies:
1. Trim Healthy Mama eating plan. I did it throughout my whole pregnancy (I actually started when Fulton was born) and the difference it made on my energy levels and general well being was incredible.
2. Trim Healthy Mama exercise plan. Made for women, focuses on pelvic floor. My pelvic floor is...um...tired, let's say. I really needed to build that muscle tone, and did the exercises religiously during pregnancy and post partum. My healing after birth went so much faster than it had after my last few babies.
3. Cosleeping. Sorry, I know this topic is touchy. I have come to believe that cosleeping is biologically what we are made to do, and what people have been doing since the dawn of time. But I also believe sleep training has become necessary for many women because we no longer live in communities like we have since the dawn of time. I did a kind of "modified" cosleeping. It really helped me be successful in milk supply, which also helped regulate my hormones and did not give me the hormonal crash that I had experienced with all my other babies when I would sleep train.
4. Trent took off 5 weeks. Again, women were made to live in communities who would help each other raise their children. We no longer have that, so we rely on our husbands more than we ever have. Having him around to help with the other kids and just be there to help me heal was amazing.
It's so amazing to think Thomas is almost 1 year old. What a journey and a blessing. Each of my children has taught me something. Thomas has taught me to trust my instincts and in the voice that God whispers into my ear...that what works for me and my family might be different from others.
