Huntsville Birth Photographer | Rosaline

I have to say that I have done quite a few births over the last 5 years. I have witnessed many different scenarios in regards to a baby making their way into this world. This one, though... this birth... was a first to me. I had actually been texting with mom earlier in the day. She mentioned having some cramps and back pain, but at 38 weeks, it's normal for me to get a text like that from one of my clients and then have them fizzle out. The last text exchange ended up being about what song she wanted to use for her slideshow. An hour and twenty minutes later, my husband calls me to tell me that he got a random call from one of my clients saying that she was 8 cm and at the birth center. My heart sinks for two reasons, 1.) I have no idea which client he's talking about and 2.) How did my client get to the point of needing to go to the birth center AND be checked but not fill me in beforehand. I frantically figure out which client it is, rush to the car and try to piece together the story of what was going on. 35 minutes later, I am pulling into the birth center, praying that I did not miss the delivery, just to get a text saying "This is Rina's husband, the baby came and we are at our house in Huntsville." Now I'm really confused. I call them and find out that when they accidentally called my husband, she meant that she was HEADING to the birth center and had been checked by her aunt, a retired labor nurse, which is how she found out she was 8 cm...

I'll leave the rest of the story to Rosie's mom as she recounts the moments leading up to and during her delivery. Make sure you scroll down to read how and where Rosie decided to make her appearance.

Happy birthday, Sweet Girl!

Birth Photographer

July 9, 2015 at 2:39 pm

Born: At Home (well, in the minivan first)

Rosalie's Birth Story:

On Thursday July 9th, 2015, I woke up around 7 am to the sound of my 13 month old son Colin crying for milk and to my usual full bladder telling me to hurry up and get up to urinate. Rather than get out of bed right away, I’m laying on my right side with my hand over my lower abdomen thinking about what sensations I’m feeling - very slight intermittent cramping that occasionally occurs in my lower back, too. I have to focus really hard to what exactly I’m feeling; otherwise, I’d probably not have noticed it at all. After about ten minutes of laying around, I decide that it’s best to just get up and go on about the day and that surely these Braxton hicks contractions are just warm up/practice contractions for when Rosie decides to come in the next couple of weeks. I am only 38 weeks and 2 days so I’ve prepared my mind mentally that I’ve got at least another week to go… or so I thought. I don’t mind going the full 40 weeks especially since my only source for my due date was a first trimester ultrasound since I never had a period after Colin was born.

It’s become a habit ever since I found out that I was pregnant to sit on my exercise ball as much as possible whenever I’m at home. I feel like it helps for optimal fetal positioning later in pregnancy. In addition, I like how it opens up my hips and pelvis, as well as stretches out my lower back and legs. I eat my breakfast, which is lighter than usual – just some hardboiled eggs, banana, and some yogurt. I don’t have much of an appetite like I usually do for some reason.

After breakfast, I decide this is the perfect time to paint my nails since the last couple of days at work have made some pretty significant chips to my nail polish. Thankfully, Clinton has already been tending to Colin’s needs so I have the time to paint my nails a bright hot pink. I continue rocking on my exercise ball as I paint my nails, first in slow circles to the left, then in slow circles to the right. I don’t even realize I’m doing this, but it seems to be helping the annoying rhythmic cramping that’s still occurring every now and then. I decide that I’d better up my water intake to wipe these Braxton hicks contractions away since I probably wasn’t as hydrated from working the last couple of days.

Clinton settles Colin in his crib for his mid-morning nap. He gives me a kiss on the cheek and heads out the door to take care of a few things at work. He tells me to call him if I need him to come back home or if I need anything while he’s out. My husband must have sensed something was going on, even though I hadn’t mentioned the cramping that I’d been having. Clinton is very intuitive and just knows me probably better than I know myself at times. I tell him that it’d be nice for him to pick up my peanut ball at the hospital where I work before he heads all the way out to Conroe. Conroe is about 30 minutes south of where we live. I send my friend/coworker Brittany Barnard a text message letting her know that Clinton is on the way to pick my peanut ball up just so it wouldn’t be weird for some random guy to ask to take the peanut ball outside of the hospital. I believe this is taking place around 10:45 am.

Clinton leaves to run his errands while I look through Rosie’s newborn clothes we’ve packed for the birth center, lots of pink, ribbons, and lace. I laugh at how many different outfits I’ve packed knowing that we’d only be at the birth center for four to six hours after she’s born. It makes me smile knowing that she’ll arrive sometime at the end of this month. After all, July is her birth month. I decide I’ve sat on my ball long enough and that it’d be best to tidy up around the house so there I am folding Rosie’s clothes for the millionth time, sterilizing the bottles I plan on using to store breastmilk, amongst other nesting tasks.

Around 12:30 pm, I notice that the cramping from this morning still hasn’t quite slowed down as much as I’d like. I don’t really pay much attention to them unless I stop whatever I’m doing to actually focus on them. The cramps don’t bother me, but instead I find are getting increasingly annoying because I thought by now they’d space out or go away completely. I rationalize with myself that nothing is really happening labor wise since:

1. I haven’t had any leaking or gush of fluid

2. My mucus plug still hasn’t passed

3. I haven’t had any pink discharge or bloody show.

I’m finding it more annoying that despite hydrating with plenty of water and orange Gatorade that my Braxton hicks still hadn’t gone away. Clinton still hasn’t come home with the peanut ball so I decide that instead of laying down in our bed, what would really wipe these Braxton hicks contractions for good is a nice soak in a warm Epsom salt lavender essential oil bath.

It’s comforting to just settle into the water with my calm meditation station on Pandora playing in the background and the scent of my Doterra On Guard/Serenity essential oils diffusing next to the tub. It’s especially nice that I have this quiet time undisturbed without having Colin trying to get in the tub with me since my mother is off work and has graciously been taking care of Colin.

Around 1 pm, I send a text message to Brittany that I don’t think I’d be able to make it to work on Sunday. I figure that my Braxton hicks will probably settle down in the evening and that Rosie would come maybe in the next few days. The annoying cramps are now coming in from front to back and back to front wrapping around a little more than what I noticed earlier this morning. Brittany texts me back saying that my shifts are already covered and that “there are better ways to get out of computer training than to have a baby.” I text her back saying that “I’m just waiting for these to space out” in which she replies back with “Or for your water to break… either one.”

Around 1:30 pm, Clinton finally comes home with the peanut ball. Instead of dropping it off before he left for Conroe, he went straight to work instead. I’m glad he’s back since the warm bath hasn’t done anything to stop my Braxton hicks contractions. He finds me in the tub asking me how I’m doing and what I’m feeling. I tell him that over the last half hour or so that my back has been “bothering me.” I’ve been alternating between rocking on my hands and knees in the tub and sitting upright Indian style while rubbing my feet and ankles to distract myself from the pressure I’ve started to feel in my lower back. I tell him that maybe he should start getting ready to go to the birth center in case things start to get more regular and intense later this evening. I haven’t been timing any of the cramping or pressure sensations that I’ve been having hoping that they’d just go away with increased hydration, rest, and a warm bath.

Clinton is trying to shave in the bathroom while I’m in the tub, only to be interrupted by me asking him to rub my back. He pauses from shaving to do as such until I tell him, “Okay, honey. It’s passed.” He then goes back to shaving only to be interrupted not even a minute later to rub my back.

“Honey, rub my back again, please. It’s starting again.”

He stops shaving again and looks at me kinda funny. “Again?” he asks.

“Yes, again. Please just rub my back. Thank you.”

“Okay, then.”

“Okay, honey. It’s passed. Thank you.”

He goes back to shaving only working a little faster this time to finish.

“Honey? Rub my back again, will ya? It’s happening again. Thank you.”

“Rina, have you been timing your contractions?”

“No, just rub my back. My back is bothering me and it’s really annoying.”

I guess around this time, my mother had called my Aunt Violet who is now a retired labor nurse of several years to come “check me.” My Aunt shows up and asks me if I’d liked to be checked (to see how dilated I am). I tell her, I don’t think it’s time yet” and that she could go back to doing her errands and that I’d call her later this evening before we leave for the birth center if things start getting regular and more intense. In my mind, I didn’t think I was very far along since it had only been 30 minutes ago when my back was starting to really bother me. I didn’t want to show up at Nativiti Birth Center at 2 cm with a long, posterior cervix. My aunt hesistently leaves and tells me firmly again to call her when I want to be checked. I guess another reason why I didn’t want to be checked is because in my mind, it didn’t really matter how dilated I was since it’s not like I felt like the baby was coming and that it didn’t really matter if I was 4 cm or 2 cm at this point. If I’ve ever been your labor nurse or midwife, then you know I don’t do many cervical exams on my clients for that same reason.

Around 2 pm, my Aunt comes back. I think my mom called her back even though I didn’t think it was time yet. She asks me again if I want to be checked. I’ve been out of the tub now for the last 15 minutes, walking around the house rubbing my back. The cramping and pressure is getting more uncomfortable and annoying so I finally agree to being checked. For whatever ridiculous reason, I fixate on first finding the extra pair of sterile gloves I always seem to have in my pockets after work. We waste about 10 minutes trying to find them, which now as I’m typing this realize that we should have already left for the birth center a while back. I decide that since I’m not ruptured (water hasn’t broken) that a pair of clean, never used cleaning gloves would be sufficient for a cervical exam. I lay down in my bed even though I’m now feeling even more pressure on my bottom that it’s now more uncomfortable to lay down. My aunt checks me in which feels like she is having to reach very far up and back to get to my cervix. I think to myself, “Oh, great… I am a wimp. She’s really having to reach back there to get to my cervix. I must be 2 cm dilated, thick (consistency of cervix) and high (baby has not dropped into pelvis).” I’m not used to having cervical exams done since I haven’t had any done with this pregnancy and only had two cervical exams with Colin throughout my pregnancy, labor, and birth. My aunt is very quiet, pauses, clears her throat and tells me:

“Rina, you’re already 8 cms.”

At this point, it hits me that Rosie will be coming today and that we need to leave for the birth center RIGHT NOW. I tell my mother to call the midwife (Jami H.) and my husband to get Colin ready and to pack the van. I call my birth photographer Stephanie S., only to call the wrong number (her husband’s cell phone). Thankfully, she calls back as I’m walking to the van; I tell her that I’m 8 cm and on the way to the birth center and to meet us there. Somehow later on, Stephanie tells me that things kind of got lost in translation as she thought I was already at the birth center and was checked there. I think I forgot to mention that it takes 45 minutes without traffic on I-45 south to get to the birth center from my house.

My mother tells my Aunt to follow us to the birth center. I think knowing that my aunt is closeby gives my mother some comfort in case something crazy were to happen. Little did we know… My mother also asks me if she wants me to ride in a separate vehicle with my dad or if I want her ride with me and Clinton in our mini van. I tell her that I need her to ride in the back of the mini van with me so she could rub my back. Rubbing my back was key to my comfort.

At this point, the cervical exam has really made my back pressure even more intense to where I feel an occasional urge to bear down. Colin is strapped down into his car seat, Clinton is in the driver’s seat, my mom’s in the very back seat next to me, and I’m on my hands and knees leaning over the exercise ball rocking forward and back with my eyes closed, breathing long deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth while asking my mother to “Just please keep rubbing my back.”

My midwife is on the cell phone on the speaker telling me to continue what I’m doing and that she’ll have the tub ready for when we got to the birth center. I can’t remember at this point whether anyone had told her I was already 8 cm.

I’m also not sure what time it is when all of this is taking place or really how far we get on I-45 south before my water breaks. All I know is that we’re on the highway, I’m on my hands and knees leaning over the exercise ball and I feel the all familiar internal pop then gush of large warm fluid.

“My water just broke! The baby’s coming.”

At this point, I’m doing my best and concentrating very hard not to actively push by pant breathing just as I demonstrate when I’m laboring with a woman who is feeling very pushy and no doctor or midwife is present to catch.

I’m unsure whether Clinton hears me or if he’s pulling over. I later found out that he pulled over on the side of the highway after Rosie was born.

I focus on other ways I can slow things down. I guess I still have this unrealistic expectation that we will make it to the birth center in time to where I’ll have another peaceful water birth just like I did with Colin even though realistically, we’re probably still 40 minutes away from the birth center if not further away.

It dawns on me that I need to get off my hands and knees and lay on my side. So I do just that – I lay down on my right side, legs crossed, panties still on pant breathing while my mother who cannot see my face since my back is towards her is frantically shaking my shoulders. I think at this point she thinks I’ve passed out or something because I’m told later on by Clinton that he really couldn’t hear much since I was very quiet except for my breathing. In the background, I hear my midwife’s voice on the speakerphone asking repeatedly:

“Is there a baby yet?”

Is there a baby yet? In hearing those words and really processing what those five words really meant, I decide that Rosie wanted to come no matter what I did and how hard I tried to slow things down. I also came to the realization that it was actually really silly for me to be on my side, a position that was very uncomfortable. I decide then that it’d be better to be in a position that was actually comfortable so I get back on my hands and knees, lean over the exercise ball and tell my mother very calmly, “Rosie’s moving down and she wants to be born now.”

“What do I do?” my mother asks.

“I’m scared,” my mother says.

“Don’t be.” I tell her.

And then comes that all too familiar burn that comes when the baby is so low that they are at the point of crowning. I find it comforting to say out loud everything that I’m feeling right then and there and so I do.

“It really burns. She’s crowning.”

Not only can I feel this intense burning and stretching sensation to know that she’s crowning, but I can literally feel her head start to crown then crown into my hands as I try to support my perineum as best I can so to avoid actively pushing into the burn and potentially tearing in the process.

“Rina, the head’s out.”

“I know, mom.”

“Rina, I’m scared. What do I do?”

“We’ll wait till the next contraction and she’ll come them. Grab the towels and blankets and make sure she doesn’t fall too hard.”

My husband tells me that he was still driving at this point when Rosie came out because according to him, I was very quiet just like I was when I had Colin. Even though I was narrating everything I was feeling and what was happening, I thought I was doing so loud enough for him to hear me so that he could know what was going on since he was all the way in the front still driving. I’m thankful that Clinton has always been calm, cool and collected and was able to drive us safely.

Clinton also tells me that all he heard while he was driving was a whimper and then a loud cry. At first he thought it was Colin crying except the cry sounded different. That was the moment he realized Rosie had arrived.

“The baby’s here! What time is it?” I yell at Clinton.

“2:39 pm.” He responds back to me.

Rosie comes out wet, crying, very squirmy, covered in vernix or what I like to call “birthday frosting.” My mother and I gently bring her up to my chest as I lean back to sit down from my hands and knees. We both dry her off with towels and rub the vernix into her skin. She is absolutely perfect with a strong pulsing cord and completely round shaped head. We of course don’t have any instruments to clamp and cut her cord, which I don’t mind since I always prefer delayed cord clamping of the umbilical cord until it stops pulsating.

The next thing I know, we are on the side of the highway and the trunk is opened. I see cars driving past us and then my aunt shows up with my husband. I can tell they’re both bummed that they had missed Rosie’s birth. My aunt tells me that she went back to the house to pick up instruments instead of following right behind us like I thought she was doing. I asked her if she had sterile instruments in which she responded no. It makes me giggle thinking that she went home to get instruments. What kind of instruments was she going to get anyway?

My aunt being the concerned labor nurse that she is tells me that we need to go to the hospital. I think my midwife who is still on the speakerphone and myself both tell her at the same time, “No. We’re not going to the hospital.” Instead, I tell my husband that I want to go home and that my midwife will be meeting us there. So, back home we went with Rosie against me skin to skin, covered with a warm towel.

I’m not sure how we managed to get from the van, through the garage, through the kitchen and living room to our room and onto our bed without leaving a trail of blood. I’m proud that my husband had detailed our van two weeks earlier and had lined the back of the van with trash bags, towels, blankets, and another layer of trash bags, and blankets in case my water broke at home or in the van. Much to my surprise, there was very little blood and any other bodily fluids in the back of our van.

I feel like this story is so long already so I’ll just end it here. Thank you for taking the time to read about Rosie’s arrival. I hope her story brings some joy in your life and makes you smile and laugh as it does for me. To answer a few questions and comments that I’ve been asked:

Did it hurt not having any pain meds? No. It was uncomfortable and annoying, especially when my back was cramping, but I wouldn’t call it pain. It’s a different sensation especially knowing that what I was feeling meant my baby was going to be in my arms. What I find painful is the lidocaine numbing medicine that was used since I had a first degree perineal laceration that needed repair. If labor felt like the sharp lidocaine burn with every contraction back to back, then I’d consider getting IV pain meds and maybe even an epidural. I absolutely do not like that sharp burning pain sensation.

It sounds like you were in denial, Rina. Umm… yes, seems that way except like I joked with my midwives and friends before about writing a birth plan. My birth plan is very simple – ignore the contractions for as long as possible and then head up to the birth center when I can’t ignore them anymore. Guess I didn’t even follow the last bit of my birth plan.

Why didn’t you time your contractions? Same answer as above. Because I find that there’s no point except for maybe giving your loved one enough time to get to your birth setting of your choice.

I really thought for sure that this time Rosie would come closer to 40 weeks; instead, she came at 38 weeks and 2 days, the exact same gestation I was when Colin made his debut. Guess you can say they are both punctual and know how to make a grand entrance."

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COMING SOON!!! I am pleased to announce that a new option will soon be offered in capturing your birth story. Be on the lookout for information on birth film stories (birth videography). I am so excited to to adding this option in the near future!

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