Story written and shared with permission by one of our loving families.
From go, I knew you were the midwife for me (it was the ease, confidence and strength you project when you walk into a new home to meet an expecting family, and the hugs after our meeting!). Being pregnant for the first time is a delicate thing. Daniel and I were careful to think about all of our options ad nauseum and we kept coming back to this idea of being accountable for our health and the health of our baby as a key tenant of our beliefs. We knew that the informed decisions midwifery care encouraged us to make were going to lead us to an intuitive place of wellbeing and safety. And we knew working with you meant we were going to be heard and respected as we crossed the threshold of parenthood.
As we got closer to birthing time, Kelsi (and Mary! But I know this is for your site, just know that I feel so grateful for both of you, to the ends of the earth) calmly went over a post-dates plan of care that defined her role and our decisions if we went beyond 42.6 weeks. At the time, it all felt very abstract and almost insane to be pregnant that long, but there was a little glimmer in the back of my mind that told me this special little person might be taking his time to get here.
My mother and sister both carried their babies so long they were induced in a hospital setting. My dates were set in a clinical practice which I switched out of at 24 weeks, and my calculations were 10 days behind the date the technician set for my “guess date.” Little did Dan and I realize that these little details would add up to a birth we didn’t exactly plan for.
Because of my close relationship with Kelsi, built through so many visits and honest, close inspection of the medical records from the previous clinic, we were all on the same page about the wiggle room in birthing time. I remained healthy, comfortable, and confident that this baby would come when he would come, and Kelsi shared that confidence. But that post-dates conversation got more serious as we crossed into 42 weeks gestation (again, per clinical dates! Be so careful to advocate for yourself mamas! You know more than you think you do!).
Kelsi guided me carefully through natural methods of induction, recommending an acupuncturist and a detailed regimen of herbs, pumping, and other oxytocin building activities to try to get things going. My husband and I opted to pair our intuition with hard science, too, and I had ultrasounds every other day during week 42 to measure baby’s development, amniotic fluid, heart rate and movements. He was perfect every time! Armed with this information and a very compassionate midwife, we felt we could still let him come when he was ready.
But as with any new undertaking of this magnitude, there was a pretty big learning curve for me, the birthing mother. My waves came and went for 5 days, sometimes getting as close as 2 or 3 minutes apart overnight, then disappearing with the sun the next morning. On the third day, Kelsi came over to confirm I was progressing, baby was sounding great, and also to give me a hug and make a new plan. We agreed that if labor did not start in a good rhythm by that evening that we would get some help from our good friend pitocin in a hospital setting. My husband conferred with Kelsi and we were “checked in” early at Fairview Riverside.
Ever the optimist (and hard-headed German) I was determined to do as much as I could before changing our plans. I squatted, climbed stairs, ate snacks, let go of my fears in big ugly cries in Kelsi’s arms, and then we broke my water as a last ditch effort to get things going. Kelsi prepared us for meconium staining before she did this, and sure enough it was there, but light. Time and time again, Kelsi re-assured me everything was OK, just taking an awful long time to get into a rhythm. I was at 8 cm, water broken, and my waves disappeared entirely for 15 minutes. Nomatter what I tried, I couldn’t get them closer than 8-10 minutes apart. It was nearly midnight on my 4th day of this roller coaster.
I was frustrated! I was tired. Gently, my birthing team and I decided that we needed some help. Kelsi had already submitted our information during check in, and called ahead to ensure they knew we were coming. We packed up, kissed our dogs goodbye, and rode into the night all together to the hospital.
Kelsi prepared us for what would happen next. She would be in a doula role, but would be prepping the new team for us, essentially - sharing notes, records, answering many of their questions. She also made a point to steer us to a nurse-midwifery practice that had successful outcomes with homebirth mothers that transferred in during labor, so we knew we were in knowledgeable and compassionate hands. Certainly a part of me was afraid of walking into a hospital with my post-dates pregnancy and feeling judgement, or worse, being pushed into a high risk category and facing scary invasive procedures I had worked my whole pregnancy to avoid.
Instead, everyone was incredibly kind. My whole home birth team was still with me, my husband had minimal paperwork to sign or questions to answer, and the nurses and nurse midwives patted me on the head, hooked up my “whiff” of pitocin, and off I went!
It turned out I was still a ways away from birth. Kelsi stayed by my side, taking shifts with my husband and my doula, for another 12 hours, including a very intense and lengthy pushing phase for which I was SO exhausted and absolutely required the help of honey packets, cold fruit (ahh grapes!), water, and icy wash cloths that Kelsi applied. The pushing phase also required what felt like at least 20 different positions that Kelsi and my doula collaborated on and recruited my husband to assist with. I am positive it would have been a surgical birth without the calm and confident guidance of some seriously experienced birth workers, and Kelsi chief among them!
Finally, at 1:49 PM on August 4, my son emerged - technically 42.6 weeks gestation (but only 41ish by my dates, and nurses confirmed he was not wrinkly like a post dates baby often is!), with a “lusty cry” that was heavenly. I miraculously did not tear, and was on top of the world. We popped a bottle of champagne and passed it all around the room, and I am sure there wasn’t a dry eye in the place. Baby B crawled right to my breast and started making motions to nurse, and Kelsi jumped right to action showing me how to get a proper latch.
While I did not have a home birth, I had the most natural and empowering adventure into motherhood. I made all the decisions with the best information and guidance possible, with a midwife who went way above and beyond to get my whole brand new family into each other’s arms safely. She collaborated beautifully with hospital staff, my doula, and my husband to make sure my baby and I were perfectly safe and healthy in a very vulnerable moment for me.
We checked out of the hospital early as there were no complications at all, and it was Kelsi who did all of Baby B’s newborn checks right from our bed at home, where we love to be.
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