The beautiful birth of our seventh child

Months eight and nine of pregnancy always make me question my sanity in getting pregnant in the first place. This time was especially hard, because… JULY. After two months of misery, being pushed to my absolute bodily limits, puking at night from heartburn, feeling like I couldn't breathe in the thick Virginia humidity with a baby's feet in my lungs, hobbling around with pressure in my leg from ugly varicose veins, and bearing guilt from not having as much patience with the kids as I normally do, I was READY for baby. (And you know how much I love babies!!!) I was ready long before my due date, and I was getting annoyed that my body makes such big babies.

I was taking daily belly pictures, thinking surely this will be the last one before labor begins! And I was mentally trying to pump myself up for home birth. It was hard because I already felt like I needed an epidural just for being nine months pregnant—how was I going to push out a baby with this much strain on my body already? I had to repeatedly go over why I prefer natural birth. (I'd list those reasons here, but read on and maybe you'll gather why.)

At 39 weeks 6 days of my pregnancy, I woke at 9 a.m. to Rose kicking—the best way to wake. It was a gorgeous sunny summer morning, and I'd had a miraculously great night's sleep with *no* heartburn. I went downstairs—which I've kept meticulously clean and with fresh flowers in all the vases for weeks—and found all the kids and Jeff playing together on the playroom floor—no fights to be heard! It was a heavenly bliss. As much as I hate being 3rd trimester pregnant in Virginia's stifling heat, THIS was the reason summer is a great time to have a baby!

Fresh pink roses ready in anticipation for baby Rose!

I started grating and juicing lemons to make lemon blueberry muffins from scratch, and started frying bacon, when out of the blue, my water broke!

I had really wanted to not have it break before labor, since thats how it happened with my previous birth and that one had been my MOST painful!

But God knew this was right for me. Maybe I would have not gone into labor until much later because of my mental hangups about it— I felt like I hadn't been allowing my body to relax enough because the chaos of our big family life and noise and messes. My nesting urges were so strong, and I wanted the house *just right* before baby could come! And we all know that an artist's work is never complete!

I wasn't having contractions and knew it could be awhile, so I finished making breakfast , changed clothes, and announced to everyone that my water had broken... to everyone's loud cheers!!! They've been expecting this announcement every day for weeks! Jeffrey prayed safety over the delivery and over our baby. We ate jovially and I started getting nauseated knowing what was coming. So we called the grandparents and midwife so everyone could begin to mobilize.

When all the kids were rounded up into the van, I started feeling my first twinge of sadness and sentimentality. Pregnancy is always a time of buoyancy and gladness and peace for me, so I knew there was some sort of hormonal shift happening. I felt like I needed to look into every child's face and tell them how much I loved them. I also was reminded that there's always a chance that the worst could happen and I may never see them again. Thankfully, God flooded me with serenity and I was able to stop my tears.

With everyone out of the house, (it almost felt like a tropical vacation), and Jeff tasked with mowing the lawn and cutting more fresh flowers for me from the yard, I was able to pray and focus on getting my body prepared for labor. I showered and blow-dried and curled my hair and put on a cheery blue dress! Then I started the Miles circuit, which is supposed to help baby get into an optimal position and speed up labor. You do 30 minutes of an inversion position, then 30 minutes exaggerated left side lying, then stair walking. Everything I tried to do was interrupted by gushes of more of the water leaking! I'd leave little puddles on the wood stairs every time I went up to change out of the wet clothes. Contractions weren't getting stronger, though.

So I vacuumed, did a full load of laundry, ironed our pink table runner, and mentally soaked in the peace and quiet that I wouldn't get any time soon with a newborn coming! This is one of the beauties of home birth— all your nesting is for the very real purpose of preparing the very space where your baby will be born. Your space is tailored exactly to you, and when the birth pains come, you can sink into the familiarity and privacy of the surfaces, textures, lighting, smells, and cleanliness of the spot YOU chose. The first medical intervention a birthing mother can take is to leave the comfort of home. It changes your very physiology.

The sun shone and the blue skies were clear and I was SO THANKFUL. I needed that cheer to ward off any dread about what was coming. I made a point of smiling, even alone to myself.

By 4 pm the contractions were still not strong, but I knew even a little bit can dilate you! My midwife came for a casual stop-in (with no intention of staying) and gave me a quick dilation check—5 cm! Yes! She chatted with us for a while, and we discussed going out to buy a newborn carseat and walking the stores. Clearly, labor wasn't in earnest just yet. My midwife agreed to leave, and maybe go home for dinner—she lives an hour away— but I think she knew something I didn't. Because she parked her car at the bottom of our long driveway and then texted that she'd only go to the other midwife's house who lived nearby. And within those moments my contractions turned into the real deal, and we let her know we were *not* going out after all. She'd return by 6:45.

I sat myself down in our brand new white glider in the bedroom, pink lemonade and contraction tracker in hand, and knew I wouldn't be leaving that floor of the house until baby was in my arms. Somehow my mental hard-work mode was turned on full-blast, and that concept didn't overwhelm me. Things felt calm and homey.

However, I *was* getting the shivers, which is how I usually feel when transition (typically the hardest/most painful part of labor, right before pushing begins) kicks in! I was getting eager for the midwives to arrive so I could go get in the tub for some (hopeful) relief. I felt like if I got in alone, the baby may come too quickly and they'd miss it! I hadn't hit that "I can't do this" and "I want to quit" and "Someone else do this" stage, which I was fully expecting...

Everything after that was a blur of peace and intensity! The midwives slipped in quietly, set up the room, and checked baby's heart-rate. Baby blankets were being heated with the heating pad, and the bedsheets were changed to dark durable grey. Then I put on a powder blue top and got into our barely-used white iron tub. We'd already set up fresh roses in the bathroom and I'd bought super fluffy new organic towels. It was so pretty in there!

I'd hated the tub and water with Colette's birth—it had felt like pain attacking my skin— but this time it was exactly what I needed. The bathroom door was shut, and I was alone with my task. God had fully equipped me for this, as He did for the billions of women who've gone before me. I kept picturing the warm water softening and stretching everything, and with each contraction, I was able to feel thankful that I could do this— what an honor to be entrusted with the gift of motherhood.

By 7:30 p.m. the contractions were becoming extremely long, all over a minute, and one was 5 full minutes with no break at all. Jeff came to check on me and get me more drink —he knows I like to be alone with my pain, but also that I like that someone is concerned about me.

I was shivering and shaking like crazy. It was time to find a simple object to focus my eyes on— all other thoughts are just too heavy when your body is transitioning like that. I looked at my feet, and the orchid pink toenail polish color was calming and creative to me! Perfect!

Now I was feeling pressure at the base of my spine. I waited out a few contractions like that, and yep, my body was pushing! I was internally celebrating—my last two births hadn't given me that baby ejection reflex! This must mean baby is in a good position for a smooth exit!!!

I could barely get a breath out as things were SO intense, but I called, "Hey, guys!!!" Nobody heard me the first time! Then I called again and they scrambled in, moving all the birth supplies into that room, and Kelly checked me. Fully dilated with a bit of cervical lip! The contractions had become searingly painful. But at that point, my body just started pushing hard. I immediately felt the head descending—praise the Lord. I remember that feeling from the other births. There's nothing like it. You're delivering a REAL WHOLE HUMAN BEING into the world. The head felt BIG.

With the slightest fear that baby may be bigger than Wesley was (10 lbs 8 oz), I closed my eyes and readied myself to push with every ounce of energy I had. But I didn't need it because with two more huge almost involuntary pushes, baby's head was out (cord wrapped around her neck). And as the midwife advised me to take it slowly, my body just started pushing out the rest of her body! I leaned back on the iron tub as I pushed—feeling baby's shoulders a little more than other births—and ended up with a bruise on the back of my head for days afterward. My teeth were sore from clenching too! (Jeff said from his perspective, it looked like I took only one long push to get her entire body out, and I didn’t take a breath the whole time! He said I had a huge vein in my neck popping out that he’s never seen at any time except during the pushing phase of childbirth!)

And just like that, she was out! With the swift draw-up of my newborn from the water to my chest, I exhaled with,"Praise God! Praise God! Praise God!" And the midwives echoed, "Thank you, Jesus!" as they covered baby with warm blankets. And our healthy, chunky baby cried as Jeff knelt down next to us, his eyes tearful, a proud dad. It was 8 o'clock and the sun was setting in pink and gold, the sky full of glorious Michaelangelo-style clouds, and the room was filled with the warm light. Can you even believe we got a birth like this?!

From the start of intense contractions to the birth was only three hours!

After we'd stared at our newborn, waited for the cord to finish pulsating (she needs all of her blood from the placenta!), cut the cord, and delivered the placenta (which was a little more difficult than I'd remembered), I was able to go from the tub to the bed and drink some celebratory orange juice! I felt great. And I said several times, "I am SO GLAD that's over!"

I had no tearing, very minimal blood loss (I think that was due to my focus on eating slices of parmigiana cheese, which is high in vitamin K, every day of third trimester!), and baby was alert and happy.

We named her Rose Verity, meaning beautiful truth. She will know the Truth of her Creator and Savior, Jesus, and reflect Him everywhere she goes.

She looks a lot like her mama, with my square face, and thin lips, and my longer piano fingers and toes. Her tiny voice is adorably feminine. And she weighed 9 pounds 10 ounces, and measured 21" long, our second biggest newborn! (When I heard the midwife say 10, I thought for sure she was 10 pounds!) I'd bought newborn size diapers in hopes of having a tiny baby, but they didn't fit her! I am always shocked how my body can grow such huge chunkers when I can barely eat 1200 calories a day during my third trimester. Where does it come from?!

The midwives slipped away into the night as quietly as they'd come in, after giving mama and baby a good looking-over, and instructions to daddy. During the many months of hour-long prenatal appointments, the midwives become like trusted family. Once their job is done, I don't get continually poked and prodded and awoken by strangers. They trust my maternal instincts will do what they're created to do.

After the midwives left that night, baby Rose set out to establish a solid milk supply for herself, by nursing relentlessly till morning. She wanted to maintain her chub! And she gained a full pound her first week of life!

She joins our Christ's-kingdom-minded family, excited to train her up in the way she should go! Every one of the kids is in love with her and wants 6+ kids of their own one day, which means they have a positive view of big families and pregnancy and birth and babies! (That's shocking considering how miserable I felt the last month or so of pregnancy.)

We're looking forward to a gorgeous autumn with this new baby, a season of new beginnings. Our new homeschool year will be more challenging with a nursing infant, but also more hopeful. Food tastes better for me while breastfeeding, so I'm already picturing the pumpkin, broths, roasts, yeasty breads and creamy coffees of the next several months. And I'm envisioning our autumn walks on the local battlefields and mountains and apple-picking with Rose all snuggly in her wrap. We all rejoice with every baby milestone, except for maybe the fussy teething stage. After having done the newborn stage five times, I know how demanding the breastfeeding and attachment building is, but I savor the preciousness of this tiny baby time more than ever.

I don’t take any of this for granted. God is so good to allow babies to be part of His plan for us. What a treasure to be entrusted with. So much blessing to steward. I love being a “fruitful vine” (Psalm 128:3).