.
[SIZE=14pt]The birth of Michaela – her mother’s story[/SIZE]
When people learn our third child was born ten days after our international flight arrived at New Zealand, their first comment is usually "It's amazing they let you board the airplane!" However, my
heavily pregnant status paled in comparison to an intense and unplanned multi-day stopover in an airport hotel room while we were embattled with New Zealand Immigration. Our offspring remain “un-papered” non-citizens i.e. no birth cert’s, passports, etc. Thank you, Jesus! But that's another story for another time.
Once the dust settled after our arrival, talk began of a suitable location for the birth. We were staying temporarily at my parents' house. They had in storage a brand new spa bath. The decision was made to use it as the "birthing pool." Dad and Richard retrieved it from storage
and Richard had it "birth-ready" on what turned out to be the day before the birth.
My two eldest daughters had arrived one and three weeks after their supposed "due date," so I figured the timing of this birth would be similar. We had invited my friend Megan and her husband Vern, who were a two-hour drive from us, to witness the event. On the day before the birth, Megan and I chatted on the telephone. She and Vern were planning their visit for the next day, while I confidently thought I'd have yet one more week of "very pregnant."
Later that night, as I was putting my two daughters (Abigail and Faith) to bed, my waters broke. We noted the time (8:30 pm) as Richard filled the birthing pool. We then attempted to contact Vern and Megan to deliver the urgent update, but their phone (land line) was not working properly.
While we could clearly hear the ringing from our end, the ringing at their end was too weak for them to notice it. The frustration escalated as I was temporarily unable to recall their alternate (cell phone) numbers. Five minutes later, sensing that we might have been trying to contact them, Megan phoned us and then agreed to come over immediately.
Abigail and Faith were very excited. We all crawled into bed to get some rest before the arrival of Vern and Megan. I had felt no contractions up to this point. It felt wonderful to be relaxed and comfortable and not on anyone's timetable - the joys of birthing at home.
Vern and Megan arrived about 11:00 pm and set up camp at the last available space in my parents' living room. It was a brief but wonderful reunion, as we'd not seen each other for about seven years. It was a very full house, as my brother and his girlfriend were also residing there at the time. I still had no contractions at this point, so we headed back to our respective beds to get some rest.
At about 2:30 am, contractions started. They were irregular; about one in four was painful yet still manageable. So I decided it was pool time. I woke my Mum and Vern and Megan, while Richard began filling the pool - only to discover there was no hot water! Then I recalled the possibility that labour can stall if one immerses herself in water too early.
My parents have a wood burning stove which heats all their water and warms their floors. What no one realized at the time was that all the hot water had been diverted to the under-floor heating. So Mum boiled pots of water in her kettle on the stove and then poured them into the pool, which helped raise its temperature a little. But by this time, I was cold and miserable. Although surrounded by people I loved, I was tired of being "watched." So at about 4:00 am, I'd had enough. I climbed out of the pool and made a mad dash back to bed to warm up.
I woke about 6:00 am with painful contractions. I tried to ignore them and go back to sleep, but resistance was futile. While I slept, Richard had turned the under-floor heating off, and we now had hot water available!
I called Richard to my side, and then called the others (Mum and Megan) when the pushing stage arrived. I tried to time my contractions which were very irregular, but I kept forgetting the time of the previous contraction. During the painful ones, I'd just say "Can't talk," which is birthing-woman-speak for "You don't talk, either."
Abigail and Faith woke up and joined us at poolside in the garage. Finally, the urge to push came and Richard called for Mum and Megan. I felt this baby was the hardest to push out (though she ended up being my smallest baby). Mum provided the counter-pressure to my lower back and, after three or four pushes, the baby came out. Richard "caught" her and passed her to me. After a few minutes, I checked and announced we had another girl. She looked so tiny (but she later weighed in at seven pounds and eleven ounces).
Richard made the announcement to the others in the house (Vern, my dad, and my brother and his girlfriend), but the baby had already beat him to it with her loud cries following the birth. We cut the umbilical cord about ten minutes after the birth. Richard looked after the baby while I
showered. Vern, Megan, Richard, my daughters, and I celebrated with a meal from Burger Fuel (a NZ burger chain). I passed the placenta two days later.
After about three days of mulling over names (with my dad threatening a baby-naming competition), we chose the name Michaela (mick-AYE-la) for her, It is the feminine version of Michael (a powerful warring angel of God mentioned in the Holy Bible), and means "Who is like God?"
.
[SIZE=14pt]The birth of Michaela – her mother’s story[/SIZE]
When people learn our third child was born ten days after our international flight arrived at New Zealand, their first comment is usually "It's amazing they let you board the airplane!" However, my
heavily pregnant status paled in comparison to an intense and unplanned multi-day stopover in an airport hotel room while we were embattled with New Zealand Immigration. Our offspring remain “un-papered” non-citizens i.e. no birth cert’s, passports, etc. Thank you, Jesus! But that's another story for another time.
Once the dust settled after our arrival, talk began of a suitable location for the birth. We were staying temporarily at my parents' house. They had in storage a brand new spa bath. The decision was made to use it as the "birthing pool." Dad and Richard retrieved it from storage
and Richard had it "birth-ready" on what turned out to be the day before the birth.
My two eldest daughters had arrived one and three weeks after their supposed "due date," so I figured the timing of this birth would be similar. We had invited my friend Megan and her husband Vern, who were a two-hour drive from us, to witness the event. On the day before the birth, Megan and I chatted on the telephone. She and Vern were planning their visit for the next day, while I confidently thought I'd have yet one more week of "very pregnant."
Later that night, as I was putting my two daughters (Abigail and Faith) to bed, my waters broke. We noted the time (8:30 pm) as Richard filled the birthing pool. We then attempted to contact Vern and Megan to deliver the urgent update, but their phone (land line) was not working properly.
While we could clearly hear the ringing from our end, the ringing at their end was too weak for them to notice it. The frustration escalated as I was temporarily unable to recall their alternate (cell phone) numbers. Five minutes later, sensing that we might have been trying to contact them, Megan phoned us and then agreed to come over immediately.
Abigail and Faith were very excited. We all crawled into bed to get some rest before the arrival of Vern and Megan. I had felt no contractions up to this point. It felt wonderful to be relaxed and comfortable and not on anyone's timetable - the joys of birthing at home.
Vern and Megan arrived about 11:00 pm and set up camp at the last available space in my parents' living room. It was a brief but wonderful reunion, as we'd not seen each other for about seven years. It was a very full house, as my brother and his girlfriend were also residing there at the time. I still had no contractions at this point, so we headed back to our respective beds to get some rest.
At about 2:30 am, contractions started. They were irregular; about one in four was painful yet still manageable. So I decided it was pool time. I woke my Mum and Vern and Megan, while Richard began filling the pool - only to discover there was no hot water! Then I recalled the possibility that labour can stall if one immerses herself in water too early.
My parents have a wood burning stove which heats all their water and warms their floors. What no one realized at the time was that all the hot water had been diverted to the under-floor heating. So Mum boiled pots of water in her kettle on the stove and then poured them into the pool, which helped raise its temperature a little. But by this time, I was cold and miserable. Although surrounded by people I loved, I was tired of being "watched." So at about 4:00 am, I'd had enough. I climbed out of the pool and made a mad dash back to bed to warm up.
I woke about 6:00 am with painful contractions. I tried to ignore them and go back to sleep, but resistance was futile. While I slept, Richard had turned the under-floor heating off, and we now had hot water available!
I called Richard to my side, and then called the others (Mum and Megan) when the pushing stage arrived. I tried to time my contractions which were very irregular, but I kept forgetting the time of the previous contraction. During the painful ones, I'd just say "Can't talk," which is birthing-woman-speak for "You don't talk, either."
Abigail and Faith woke up and joined us at poolside in the garage. Finally, the urge to push came and Richard called for Mum and Megan. I felt this baby was the hardest to push out (though she ended up being my smallest baby). Mum provided the counter-pressure to my lower back and, after three or four pushes, the baby came out. Richard "caught" her and passed her to me. After a few minutes, I checked and announced we had another girl. She looked so tiny (but she later weighed in at seven pounds and eleven ounces).
Richard made the announcement to the others in the house (Vern, my dad, and my brother and his girlfriend), but the baby had already beat him to it with her loud cries following the birth. We cut the umbilical cord about ten minutes after the birth. Richard looked after the baby while I
showered. Vern, Megan, Richard, my daughters, and I celebrated with a meal from Burger Fuel (a NZ burger chain). I passed the placenta two days later.
After about three days of mulling over names (with my dad threatening a baby-naming competition), we chose the name Michaela (mick-AYE-la) for her, It is the feminine version of Michael (a powerful warring angel of God mentioned in the Holy Bible), and means "Who is like God?"
.
