Welcome to the Tales of a Kitchen Witch Blog.
He loves his big sister!
I am incredibly happy with how my homebirth turned out, but now that I’ve had time to process it there are some things I could have done differently. Now, I say that with the caveat that I think everything happened exactly as it needed to for a positive outcome. For example, I am certain I dodged a bullet when my midwife dumped me. That was probably the best thing that could have happened. I’m sure she would have insisted on all the little intrusions that are so necessary and on the checklist of a midwife’s duties. I’m pretty sure she would not have been as content to let me work out how to move the baby down and would have eventually sent me to the hospital when Henry refused to budge from the spot he had wedged himself. I would have missed out on an amazing experience that has changed me for the better.
So what things might I change?
I wish I had asked someone to stay up with me a little longer. Everyone was exhausted and they all retired for the night once Henry and I were tucked in bed. The problem with that was Henry was wide awake for several hours afterward!
I wish I hadn’t been lazy and had prepared a few dinners for my freezer…
While we are making wishes, I wish we still had the giant tub that resides in the bathroom of our last house!
In all, I have only one regret. I wish I had called my friend who had offered to take pictures. At the time, I was certain I didn’t want anyone else around me and that I wanted peace and space to birth alone, but I am sad that there are so few images from that night. I have a few moments etched in my mind that I hope I never forget: the excitement on my littles’ faces as they peered over the edge of the pool, the desperation and power as my body knelt to work through another contraction, the sight of Henry relaxed into a limp noodle, pale and perfect as he lay draped over the side of the pool while my doula and I rubbed him down to coax breath into his body. The way his cord looked when it pulsed with blood and later, when it became the thin white string that James snipped to separate our baby from the life-giving placenta. The first time Hannah held him, big sister cradling tiny brother.
There are things I would love to have seen: the melee of water and kids and mother and husband filling up the pool with pitchers of water after abandoning the leaky hose while I labored in my bedroom, my baby’s face under the water as he was born into the world, my husband’s hands; his FACE as he caught his own baby and raised him out of the water.
But then again, if you are going to regret a choice you made in birth let it be something small like not enough photos, right?
I changed my mind. No regrets!