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Jonathan Peter (0-4 mo.) (4-6 mo.) (6-8 mo.) 1st Halloween (9-12 mo.) 1st Birthday (12-14 mo.) Family Vacation (5/99) 1.5 - 2.5 yrs.
Portraits
Benjamen David Birth Story Birth Day Photos (0-4 mo.) (4-7 mo.) 1st Haircut Portraits 2nd Birthday 3rd Birthday
Benjamen and Jonathan Photos
Spring 2001
Nicholas Jacob
1st 2002 Snow
Mama's Baby Photo
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Benjamen David Baltzell was born at home on Tuesday, 5/2/00, at 10:15 AM after 6 short hours of labor. He weighs 10 lbs. and 4 oz. and is 22 inches long. His head and chest both measure 15 1/4 inches. I'm so happy and still can't believe that this birth story belongs to me: In the way of background: Jonathan's birth (2/28/98) was disappointing to me in a million ways. I had hired a birth assistant who could check my dialation and help me stay home for as long as possible, but, due to a number of factors (including the fact that she didn't get familiar enough with me or my body before the birth...both of our faults), we ended up going the hospital at only 2 cm. She thought that Jonathan was breech and didn't bother to let me know...just said we had to go now and I lacked the clarity of thought to even question her at the time. Even though I had gone to an OB/midwife practice, hoping to have the most gentle and healthy birth possible, things didn't go as I had hoped. The midwife offered me drugs when my birth plan specifically (in bold type) asked that they not do that. That of course snow-balled into all of the standard interventions that can fall into place once a woman is not able to labor actively and is confined to bed. I accepted the stadol; my labor stalled; they added pitocin; the ctrx. became too strong for me to handle well, especially lying on my back; they offered an epidural; I accepted; labor stalled even more; I finally got to 10 cm; Jonathan wasn't moving down well (how could he after I had been on my back for so many hours?); more epidural; 4 hours of pushing; very little progress; forceps delivery with the obligatory episiotomy; meconium; J whisked away for hours; I wasn't allowed to bfeed him until they had cleared his chest, etc; catheterization for me; I was unable to stand or walk the next day; and on and on and on... I felt I had done everything "right" in preparation for the birth, but was so disappointed and devastated by the experience. When I became pregnant with Benjamen, I knew I couldn't deliver in a hospital and set about finding a way to birth at home. Even still, I had a lot of mental work to do and tried not to cling too tightly to any one image or scenario for the birth. My greatest hope was a short, complication-free labor, but I didn't dare expect it. I imagined lots of different scenarios and secretly held on to the fear that I would end up with another hospital birth. Benjamen's due date was April the 21st according to the midwives and April 23rd (Easter) according to me. Both dates came and went with no signs of labor. Jonathan had come 8 days past his due date. I started feeling the similarities between that pregnancy and this one, but tried to push the fears away. I had some semi-painful contractions starting on the 23rd, but nothing regular at all (maybe one or two painful ones a day). A week went by and we started into our 2nd week past his edd with no signs of impending labor. I was scheduled for a non-stress test on 5/2 to make sure all was well with Benjamen. On the 1st, my mother told me that she thought that I would be having the baby the next day. This sent a jolt through me and my stomach clenched. I had invited Benjamen to come out many times during the last week, but with no signs of labor, I had sort of given up on trying to coax him out and was thinking ahead to the possibility of being risked out for a homebirth and what I would do if that happened. Her prediction made me realize that I had been going through the motions of wanting him and inviting him out, but that I wasn't fully committed to it. I was surprised by my own reaction. When she made her prediction, it sort of shocked me and the fact that my body clenched up and my stomach flopped when she said it caused me to reflect on the fact that I was still holding onto some fears about birthing...I thought about all of this that night before we turned in. I woke at 4:30 AM on 5/2 and felt uncomfortable so tossed and turned from side to side trying to find a comfortable position, then realized that I was turning over every 3 minutes. I got up and went to the bathroom and realized that I was having contractions but it wouldn't really register that they were all 3 minutes apart. I got back in bed, but couldn't lie down through them. I felt very non-chalant about it and didn't want to get excited about it for some reason. I wanted to be relaxed and calm. Dan had been semi-awake with me tossing and turning and getting in and out of bed and he realized what was going on and started rubbing my back and legs between and during contractions. That helped me relax more. Neither of us really said anything for several contractions, but Dan finally asked if we shouldn't call the midwives. So I agreed, thinking in the back of my mind that it was a bit premature for some reason...even though the contractions were all between 2 and 3 minutes apart. Some kind of denial, I guess...maybe not wanting to get my hopes up only to be disappointed. Dan called the midwives and they called us back at around 5:30. It was Marsha, my favorite midwife whom I had so hoped would attend the birth. I was happy. She talked to me and I was able to talk through the contractions, but they were still regular at 2-3 minutes apart and lasted around 30-45 seconds. She asked about my last labor to refresh her memory and said that it sounded like this one was going differently. She said it would take her 2 hours to get here from her home (we're an hour from their office, but she's an hour further away). She got here at 7:15, after a quick shower and a little speeding, I think. Within an hour of getting off the phone with her, I was having to sound through the contractions and couldn't talk through them. My noises at that time were low and deep and some were strange, like another language. Lots of "whaaaahhh-whaaaah" sounds and "aaaaah's" and rounded "ooooooh's". I would catch myself when my sounds got high or tight. I wasn't consciously thinking through the contractions, but I did want to keep my mouth (and bottom) loose and would notice when it wasn't and correct myself. I remember thinking that some of my sounding was similar to noises that I make when I'm reaching orgasm and that it felt good to make those sounds...it felt like I was releasing the pain. I was in a good mood, though, even though I was tired after only 4 hours of sleep that night. Dan was more tired after only having 2 hours of sleep that night. I sat on my labor ball for some of them, and it felt good, but I felt like I wanted to get up during the contractions and lean on the counter or against the door fame or wall. The ball was good for sitting and relaxing between contractions. I remember yawning alot between them while sitting on the ball. I felt very relaxed between contractions and don't remember thinking or worrying about the next ones (like I did last time). Dan filled the labor tub as I worked through contractions. I remember asking him to help me straighten up a little bit and then getting irritated when he ran the dishwasher. I didn't want him to waste hot water on the dishes. He said something like It's going to be a while; We have plenty of time; They're not going to let you get in right away...something like that and I got mad and said How do you know?!? Even then, I didn't dare expect that the labor would go that quickly, but I resented him for saying it out loud. My mother did some last minute scrubbing and Jonathan (26 months old) slept. Marsha had arried and she checked me after she had set up all of her supplies. I was shocked to find out that I was 5 cm. already (after only 2-3 hours or labor) and that my waters were bulging. I was happy and excited and realized that I could get into the tub. I had to wait a while for it to fill more, though. Marsha had mentioned that Benjamen was still high and I told her that that had been a problem at Jonathan's birth. I think she heard the disappointment/worry/fear in my voice. She told me that squatting would be the best way for me to help him down. Labor is so funny. You want to do everything you can to help the baby come (for me, this is always my thought *between* contractions), but you also want to do everything you can to lessen your own suffering (for me, this is always my first thought *during* contractions and just before they come). These two goals are sometimes mutually exclusive. I didn't want to squat because I knew it would make the contractions stronger and it would hurt more. My mind searched for a way out and I asked if I could wait until I got into the water, which I knew would make squatting easier for me, anyway. Marsha, of course, said yes. The tub, a huge 6 feet round, 2 feet deep monsterous thing, finally filled and I climbed in. Bliss. It was very warm and I was in heaven. I can't say that it lessened the pain to any great degree, but it did make them more tolerable, somehow, and made it *so* much more relaxing in between contractions. During that time, Sue, our birth assistant arrived. Sue was a registered nurse recommended by the midwife practice, and while I had initially had reservations about yet another person being at the birth, I have to say that she helped me more than anyone. She arrived 1/2 - 1 hr after Marsha and she was wearing a shirt that I will never be able to forget. It was an image that I've seen before and it was the most helpful element in my labor. It was a large flower blooming outward with an infant's head emerging from the center. She knelt in front of me while I squatted in the tub and I focused completely on the image on her T-shirt. She talked to me about it between and during contractions...Blooming, opening...just like your cervix...just like your pelvis... After that, my verbalizations were almost exclusively "Open" and "Down". I wanted the baby to come down better than Jonathan had and it was my chief worry, at that point, so those words came out of me naturally and purposefully. I kept my register low and would consciously bring it down when I felt it creeping up and getting tight. I could really feel the difference when I would check myself and change my voice. Shortly after Sue arrived, Jonathan awoke. My mother walked him into the dining room where the labor tub was and he came over to me and wanted to get into the tub. Then a contraction hit and he listened to me saying deeply, "Open-Open-Open-Open-Down-Down-Down-Down" He didn't ask to get into the tub again. He started bringing me cars: "Pontiac Firebird for Mama" and I thanked him. He wanted to help me, and cars *do* fix all of man's ills, you know. He listened to me during contractions and came over to the tub, watching my face intently from a distance of 1-2 inches. He didn't get upset, but seemed concerned and interested. He would bring me different cars at different times...trying to see which one I needed, I think...Like a little homeopath trying to figure out the right remedy. Dan asked him if he wanted to get into the tub and started to undress him, but he wasn't interested at all anymore. I would notice myself shifting focus during contractions from Sue's shirt back to Jonathan (especially when he came between me and the image...it was really important to me to focus on the image during contractions) and I noticed that I was holding back in order not to frighten him...I remember even smiling at him during a very intense contraction. I knew that having him there was holding me back a bit, but I didn't say anything and still hoped that he would stay and see the birth. Jonathan had other plans, though. He ate breakfast and then asked Grandma to take him outside. I think that it was a little overwhelming for him and maybe he even picked up on the fact that I was holding back because he was there. He and Grandma stayed outside throughout the rest of the labor (just an hour or so) and came in just a few minutes after Benjamen was born. My mother asked him several times if he wanted to go back in and check on Mama and Benjamen, but he always said no and turned his attention to other things. He never likes coming in once we go outside... Ok, back to the labor...I was squatting for each contraction and then just floating and kneeling in between. My arms over the side, I relaxed completely between contractions and I think I fell asleep several times. Dan was pouring hot water over my lower back toward the end, at my request....again, heaven. Sometimes he poured it gently, but it felt best when it rushed over me like a waterfall (as Sue described it). It was very helpful and I thanked him over and over. Sue held my hands a little and I found myself holding back again, not wanting to hurt her...but also not wanting to tighten up my hands (or bottom) by squeezing. I would feel myself squeezing her hands and then check myself and loosen up my hands and shake them out. I stared at her shirt through every contraction and panicked a little when she was out of sight if a contraction were coming. She always showed up just in time, though, if she was away. They were having me stand up ever 15 minutes or so to monitor Benjamen's heartrate, which was always fine. I hated getting up out of the water, and stalled each time with, "After the next contraction, OK?" I wanted them to do it *immediately* after one contraction ended because standing up out of the water caused them to come more quickly and I knew as soon as I stood up that I would have to deal with another without a break...I would go back down into the water when one would hit, and stand up again when it passed, if they need me to. It was strange...when I would get out of the water, another one would hit immediately, but it would be less intense than the previous ones. So I dreaded standing up, but it was also a break from the very intense contractions. Toward the end of one contraction, I said that I felt pressure "or something" and Sue told Marsha right away. She wanted to check me and I bargained for "after the next one." Marsha had me stand and I put one leg out of the tub (or maybe on the side?) so she could check. I was 9 cm, she said and she told me I'd have to get out, soon. I complained to Sue and told her I didn't want to get out b/c it would hurt more and asked why they wouldn't let me have the baby in the tub. She said that the midwives had attended several water births that hadn't had good outcomes and that they didn't feel that they had the appropriate training/expertise to handle potential problems or something along those lines...I accepted that and tried to prepare myself for getting out. I think that it was the next contraction that I said it felt good to push "a little" and Sue told Marsha, who was setting up some last minute stuff on our family bed (She hadn't set up in there earlier b/c Jonathan had been sleeping when she first came). Marsha told me not to push, but that I could grunt. I puzzled over how I could grunt without pushing...or what good it would do to grunt if I couldn't push...but when the next contraction came, it eased the pain to push, so I did. I think I thought I was pulling one over on them, but they knew that I was pushing, of course. I don't know how many contractions I pushed through, but it came gradually. At first I pushed a little, then more and more. My vocalizations were a little panicky at first and sometimes were very high pitched and tense, but I got them down low most of the time with just a few exceptions. Sue kept telling me how strong I was and what a strong woman I was...how well I was doing and that I was helping my baby so much... I remember asking earlier how I would know if my water broke. During Jonathan's birth, it had broken without my knowing. The drugs had numbed me to the sensation. I guess I was preoccupied with knowing this time when it happened. Marsha said we'd just know. Sometime after I had started pushing, Marsha pointed out some bloody show in the water and I was pleased...I asked again how I'd know if my water broke. She said I'd just know... I had been holding onto Sue through some of the early pushing contractions, but then Sue suggested Dan help me through some. I had been holding back, again, not wanting to hurt her. Dan's very strong and I knew I couldn't hurt him. I held onto him tightly as I pushed, abandoning my previous theories of loose is better.
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