My water broke at 1:30 am on Friday, the 26th of February.
There were no contractions, just nervous energy so I did the only rational thing.
I cleaned the kitchen and made muffins. I walked up and down the hallway, I crawled, I prayed, I watched Food Network.
Then at 4:30 a strong contraction brought me to my knees. Literally. To my knees, in the kitchen staring at the kitchen floor and wondering how it got so dirty.
I woke up Brian and we worked through some contractions together.
Then I asked for my Mommy.
I had a feeling this labor was going to be intense and it was. Hard contractions that started off without a warning, peaked twice and left me begging for mercy.
I was so hungry and demanded pancakes during transition. I decided to wait to till after the baby was born because I wanted to enjoy the pancakes. So, my stomach rumbled throughout transition and that made me angry. I don't like being hungry, and when I want pancakes, I want them NOW.
Things started to slow down and I was getting very frustrated so it was recomended to me that I move around, which I did and it helped.
I needed to push shortly after, and push I did. Two pushes, or was it one and half? It happened so fast and there she was. In to the arms of my Dad, (wonder if Brian will forgive him for catching the baby? He wanted to have that honor again.)
Why homebirth? Why natural childbirth?
For me, it's all because of this moment...
When they are messy and screaming and in my arms, my head is clear and I realize that I did it!
It makes me feel like a Queen.
(A really tired queen, but a queen none the less!)
I held her, we cleaned her up, and then my Dad made me a huge stack of chocolate chip pancakes with maple syrup.
Way better than hospital food.
I'm always grateful for my jungle upbringing. Thinking about my Yekuana friends in the jungle who birth in mud huts with smoky fires around them gives me strength to get through the hardest parts of labor. If they can do it, I can do it.
And I did.