The birth of baby P - A Surrogacy birth story

Baby P’s Birth Story

 

IPs stands for intended parents (baby P’s parents), IM is for intended mother, IF is for intended father, T is for my main midwife, R is for my other midwife, M is for the assistant and BFF is my best friend.

 

This is not simply a birth story, this is a story about surrogacy, dreams, hopes, aspirations, faith, a long journey and life.

This birth story started years before March 28^th, 2013 so it is a bit long winded. I met my IPs about 2 and a half years ago, we met and quickly matched and couldn’t wait to start cycling. It took a few months before we were able to start cycling but we took the time to get to know each other. We had a negative cycle and a chemical pregnancy and I started to wonder why it was taking so long. Then a bomb hit my life and I would never be the same. I found out my husband had been having more affairs on me with fellow soldiers, I was devastated to say the least. I cancelled the current cycle and decided I had to take a break from surrogacy and get my life in order. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do and I knew my IP’s didn’t really understand why I had to stop and were heartbroken, we had become friends and more than just a surrogacy arrangement.

I decided to take the year and get my life on track, see if my husband and I could get through an amicable divorce and possibly co-parent under the same roof and just maintain a friendship. I realized this wasn’t going to work and was thankful for filing for divorce. More secrets came out and I found out who I truly had been married to and I was so thankful I had decided to take a break from surrogacy. I moved out on my own for the first time in my life, enrolled back into college and focused on therapy, working on me and maintaining my kids happiness and wellbeing.

After about a year I realized I was really wanting to help one last couple as a surrogate, give birth one last time and decided I was in a good enough place emotionally, financially, and physically to pursue a surrogacy as a single mom. I contacted my IP’s and they had just gone through a miscarriage with another surrogate and it seemed as if the match was not going to continue so they said they’d talk about it and get back to me. Long story short we ended up re-matching. I knew my divorce was going to be finalized by June and we decided that we would schedule to begin cycling for June. I was pretty quiet to most people about my desire to do this surrogacy as I knew many didn’t think I could do it as a single mom, but I knew it was in my heart and I knew the timing was right. And how right it was! Our un-medicated IUI cycle took and we were pregnant on the first try this time!

Fast forward to March and I was ready to give birth. My EDD had come and gone and my IP’s had been in town for weeks. I felt like a watched pot, but knew I’d gone over with 3 of the other pregnancies and decided to just surrender to it being my last pregnancy and I might as well enjoy every moment I could of being able to grow a baby and feel her movements and spend time in this stage of my life. I was dilated and effaced for weeks and starting to grow tired of the constant prodromal labor, but knew I’d gone 10 days over before and it hadn’t done me in so I could hold out for this pregnancy, too.

March 27^th rolled around and at about 1 am I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. The caged, restless feeling hit a memory button and I thought, “oh so today is the day huh?” and sat on my yoga ball and then hopped in the shower. I was up pacing till about 3 am and thought I should call but then told myself I was just wasting precious energy as I always labor and birth during the day anyways. And so I crawled back into bed and willed myself to fall asleep. I woke up around 5 am and had the beginning of bloody show when I went to the bathroom. I was half in denial as I had convinced myself I really was an elephant and that I was going to be pregnant forever. But the contractions came and went about 20 minutes apart. By 9 am I got a call from IM requesting that I get an ultrasound as she was starting to grow concerned about me being post dates after talking to her niece who is a nurse. I let her know that I couldn’t make one that morning but would be able to that afternoon and then said I’d call our midwife and see what she thought. I didn’t want to tell her that for sure I was going to have this baby soon, as I was so fearful of yet another false alarm. But I told her about my show and how I was feeling and the contractions. I then called my midwife and spoke with her to fill her in. She said she would write a referral for an ultrasound and IF was picking it up. She also let me know that she was sick  and miscarrying her own pregnancy, so we came up with a backup plan of other local midwives who would be on call should I deliver that day. I got off the phone, updated IM who decided we could hold off on the ultrasound since it sounded as if I may birth in the next 24 hours and went to take a nap. Emotionally I was worn out, and right then and there I decided I was not going into labor until T could be there. She had been my rock during this pregnancy.

I napped for a bit, my kids were on Spring break thankfully so they napped with me. I woke up and knew I wasn’t having a baby that day. My contractions slowed down to every 30 minutes and I was relieved my body had gotten the hint that my mind had been telling it. T had been the one who had pulled me through the emotional and physical trauma of my 3^rd birth and helped me to achieve a pain free childbirth with my 4^th birth of my son two and a half years before. She was the one who I needed by my side as I no longer had a husband or birth partner. She was probably the one woman in my life that I trusted to make sure I wasn’t going to bleed out or die or any other insane fear I realized I had been holding in my heart. I realized how scared I was of orphaning my children and them being taken away from my family by their dad. If you know me, you will laugh at the irony of this as for the last 10 years, 4 births, and 3 home births I have never feared a single thing about childbirth or pregnancy in regards to my health because I firmly believe it is natural and normal. So I had a talk with God and myself and realized I really had to surrender to it all, but the one thing I could control was holding off labor another 24 hours so that my trusted midwife who in reality is my friend and mentor, could be there to keep me and baby safe.

I went about my day and night and got the kids to bed. I managed to get some laundry started and things cleaned up before I looked at the clock at 9 pm and realized how worn I was. It hit me how much I’d done over the last 9 months on my own and settled that everything else could wait till tomorrow and went and fell into a deep sleep.

March 28^th – Twenty minutes after 1 am I woke up to contractions that made me jump out of my bed. I couldn’t sleep or lay down through them, couldn’t walk through them and grabbed my yoga ball. I sat on that and had flashbacks of my son’s birth, rotating my hips around in circles while humming through a contraction and hearing my then husband in the background managing our girls. And I decided it was time to have my pity party and get it out of my system so that it wouldn’t affect the labor or birth. I cried. I cried deep and hard and mourned that my life was not what it had been three years before and it was ok to be sad that I had no loved one to be there beside me to hold my hand and love me through every contraction as I helped another family. I cried that things were so very different and that my children would never have another sibling and that their dad had missed out on the best things in his life, his children. And then, I wiped my eyes, got through another contraction and thanked God for those changes in my life because I am the happiest I’ve ever been and so very thankful for the life God has given me where I can follow my own dreams, love and raise my children in a healthy home and help serve God and my faith through surrogacy and midwifery. I got up, got in the shower and realized the contractions were less then 10 minutes apart. It hit me that I simply did not want to get out of the shower and another memory popped up of my son’s labor, I had not wanted to get out of the shower and stayed in it until about 10 minutes before he was born before ever realizing I was in transition. And so I forced myself to get out of the shower, dried off and looked at my pregnant body for the last time ever.

I dressed, checked on my sleeping kids and walked out with the yoga ball to the living room. I got through 3 more contractions and debated with each one if it was time to call and who exactly to call first. I really was doing this on my own, but I didn’t want to and couldn’t. For the first time in my life I craved the company of women. I wanted my best friends, my midwives and my sister there. My sister was 2 hours away so that was out of the question. So I dialed my midwife’s number and let it sit there before I hit call. I had another 2 contractions and realized I’d taken over 20 minutes to get the guts up to call, in the back of my mind I was thinking this couldn’t really be labor because I’ve never labored or delivered in the wee hours of the night or morning. I also thought the irony of being 10 days over and that being how far I went with my dear son was comical. I finally hit call and my midwife answered the phone and said she’d be on her way. I dialed bff’s number fearful of waking her sleeping husband, but knew I needed her there and took a deep breath. I don’t ever ask for help. I suck at it to be honest. And it makes me vulnerable, the thing I hate most is to be vulnerable. But I hit call and waited for her to answer and asked her if she could come over when she answered. It was sometimes after 2 am by this point. She said she’d be on her way.

I tried to grab the birth storage tub I had filled with items needed for delivery, but every time I moved my body was hit with such strong contractions I could barely get through them. So I gave up on it and just turned on the sound machine and left my bedroom door open. I labored through a few more contractions by the light of the fishtank and thought how peaceful and serene I felt. I heard a knock on my door and one of the midwife’s (R) arrived. I thought how fast that was and let her in. I think I apologized or made some lame attempt at letting her know how sorry I was that it happened to be in the middle of the night and then a few seconds later bff arrived. I think I had a few more contractions but they weren’t as big as I felt myself automatically go into hostess mode. I finally told myself I was not going to waste everyone’s time and to stop. So I’d have a contraction, sit on the yoga ball and get through it.

My other midwife (T) and her assistant/friend (M) arrived next. I made sure T was up for it and she promised me she was. I decided I’d wait to call IP’s until we were sure I was in labor. I think around this time R checked me back on my bed and said I was for sure having a baby (can’t remember if I was 4 or 5 at that point). The show I was having was still not extremely strong but there was more and more of it. They started getting things out and I thought to myself, “Well here goes. Remember J, no cowards here. If you’re going to be a chicken, be a silly chicken” which is something I’d been telling myself as it’s an Ina May Gaskin quote which basically means instead of being scared during labor and acting like a baby, make light of it, get through each moment and laugh. And so between each contraction we sat and visited. BFF sat to the left on the loveseat, T and M sat on the couch in front of me stretched out, I sat in the middle on a yoga ball and R bustled around preparing, then finally sat on the carpet in the corner on my right. I was literally in a circle of the most trusted women of my life (minus a few of course), something foreign and new to me. I would have a contraction and circle my hips, ground my feet into the ground and breath and open my jaw to release the tension through each one, making some sort of ohhhhh sound (which is impossible to describe) to open my mind and body through each one. They would talk quietly amongst themselves, and then I’d let them know I was done and start chatting again. I would share humorous stories or make light, there was a lot of joking and laughter going on. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my home so full of laughter to be honest and I loved every minute of it. We talked about motorcycles, exes, kids, totem poles (I compared myself to an elephant and cow since I’m pregnant forever and lactate like a milk cow), midwifery, labor, surrogacy, life and funny stories.

About an hour later my labor started to ramp up and head right into my lower back. This was not something I was expecting. I’d had back labor with all 3 girls, who were each posterior. But not with my son and after his pain free childbirth I’d thought for sure I’d ‘figured out a way around the pain’. Ha! That’s what I get for ever even once smugly thinking that! I had not figured anything out and had simply been lucky with his birth and mother nature was going to teach me a thing or two.

And so as each contraction hit me, closer and closer together I had to really focus and go within myself. Except instead of going within, I found myself focusing on my mother’s painting of the ocean hanging on my wall above the couch, I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone during these. I would tell myself to open and relax and just dive right into it, I had no fear, no desire to run away from it. Instead I took it head on and opened up to the contraction and the pain that was starting to hit. BFF offered to put pressure on my back and I said, “Yes please” and let her know to push hard. And so this became our new plan. I would let them know a contraction was coming, BFF would stand up and apply counter pressure to my back, I would rock on the yoga ball and press my feet as hard as I could into the ground just letting it consume me. I’d breath and make that ohhh noise and ride it through. Then when it was done, I’d let them know and we’d resume talking again. Sometime after 3 am they asked if they should call the IP’s and I said no, but then I realized she wanted time to take a shower and be ready so I said yes. M called and I don’t much remember what was said. I started to talk about my previous labors and they made me some Gatorade with some homeopathics in it. I knew I’d throw up in transition and wanted something besides water in my stomach and sucked down 2 gatorades. I truly did not think transition was anywhere near close and apologized for wasting their time and that this may be a long one, T kept saying it wasn’t going to be. I didn’t believe her J. By this point I started having weird contractions I’d never had before. It would start and I’d get ready and then just as suddenly as it would start it would die down, like a fake contractions. R let me know this can happen in transition, you get a really good contraction and then a not so great one quickly behind it. Somewhere during this time I also went to the bathroom a few times, but realized I didn’t like getting up and walking nor did I like sitting on the toilet as it brought the most pain.

The contractions ramped up in strength and soon my back was aching from each one. In between contractions I was just fine, but had to really focus when they came. I stood up and said, “SCREW IT! I’m fighting just this one” and I stood up and paced through it, willing my body to NOT have back labor and for this to stop so that I could have another pain free birth. I barely got through that contraction and moved to the back of the house to my room. From here on out, it’s a bit foggy.

I sat on my yoga ball in my room and just remember saying S*** over and over, then I apologized to R and to God. I looked up to the ceiling and asked God to help me through this, I was alone and didn’t know if I could do this on my own and to forgive me for swearing. He was my partner that day and I needed Him to wrap His loving arms around me just as He had gotten me through the last two years and my divorce. R checked me and I can’t remember what she said I was, but I was disappointed I wasn’t at a 10 yet. I told her I had to get in the shower and couldn’t wait anymore and asked if that was ok. She laughed and said it was fine. I stripped down, didn’t care who saw and wondered if transition was here.

I stood in the shower with the water on my back, as contractions were back to back and all in my lower back. I ached from the strength of them and thought for sure I was going to break in half. R sat at the floor of the bathroom and peaked in to check in on me, monitoring the baby’s heartbeat every few minutes to make sure all was well (it was). And then I leaned forward and put my hands on the shower wall and pushed my feet as hard as I could into the floor and R told me how good I was doing and how that was perfect and to ground myself like a tree, using my feet as roots. That made perfect sense in the moment, I felt I had to be grounded by something and that was how I could do it. I heard IM say hi and I told her hi and I was sorry I wasn’t very social but I’m glad they had made it. She told me not to worry. I warned R that I was going to throw up and she went and got something and I started to throw up. So fun to clean up, and yes I was that worried about it that I washed it down the drain despite back to back contractions lol. She brought the bowl and I caught the rest in there. I felt much better and thought, ok that pushed me to 10 and it’s almost over. I could no longer stand the pain of each contraction and had to get out of the shower because I was so tired. We later figured out my water must have broken in the shower because it never officially popped or leaked everywhere, and this is when the pain started to become the hardest and most intense with the back labor.

R helped me dry off and I said I needed a sports bra, she helped me get one on. I honestly don’t know how I did between the constant pounding of the contractions. I walked out into my room and everyone was in there. BFF was holding my son in her lap, reading a book that made noises. My girls were on the toddler bed facing me, sitting next to T. M was standing to the side and IM was on the other side, I thought to myself “wow lots of people, I don’t care, I just want this baby out!” and I went and crawled onto my bed on top of the chux pads on hands and knees. My rear was in the air and I thought what a pretty sight that must be and then mentally told myself so what. IF walked in, then turned right back around and walked out - poor guy. And I tried to work through each contraction, focusing on opening and not fighting it. But I was getting nowhere and knew it. The pain was all in my back and that is my Achilles tendon so to speak. Back labor and I are mortal enemies, no matter how hard I accept it or try to surrender and work with it. IM offered to apply counter pressure and I let her, I knew she wanted to do something and seeing the tears in her eyes broke my heart for her. Here she was, so concerned and worried about seeing me in this pain and I could read it on her face. We did this for a bit, but I was still getting nowhere and looked up at T, locked my eyes on her and just begged her, “Please help me, something isn’t right” or something like that. She cleared everyone out of the room, despite the kids saying they really wanted to see the baby be born and the clear fact that this was normal and not unusual to my children. Finally it was just me, IM and the midwives.

BFF and IF juggled the kids and I didn’t even think twice about it. All I could think about was that these contractions were not doing what they should and I needed something, though what I wasn’t sure. I’d been here before 3 times regarding un-medicated back labor, I knew how crucial it was to work with the contractions but at this point I felt as if my body was counter-productive. R took over massaging my back and I moved the chux pads as they were making me sweat and annoying me. And this is when the aggravation hit. I was annoyed at my body for having the back labor, I was annoyed that this birth was taking so long and I had never ever had such a long transition (we were about 30 minutes in at this point). Normally once transition hits, the baby comes flying out minutes later. I was not use to this. And in the back of my mind I realized that this was the same back labor I’d had with baby Eden (my last surrogacy) which had left a lot of ptsd. But I accepted it could be another birth like that and I thought to myself “what are your options J? You can ask to transfer and go to the hospital and get the epidural. But there’s no way I can survive these contractions on a car drive. Ok that option is out. You’re stuck here, so lets finish this”. And then T asked if I wanted to do the water injections, in my mind I thought how that sounded even worse to me and couldn’t even respond. A few minutes later I told everyone there was no way I was going to last through this, I was exhausted, worn and my back was breaking or so it felt like it. T came over and she told R to check my dilation and check for a lip or rim or something and I consented and asked her to just tell me what was going on. She tried to check me in my hands and knees position but she couldn’t really get the best access (don’t blame her lol) and so T came over, stood up and told me to lean on her and she grabbed me and hugged me with all her might, I don’t think I’ve ever allowed anyone to hug me so tightly in my entire life. I was on my knees, just holding on to T with all my life and strength. T told her to check me now and R checked me. I was 9 with an anterior lip. T instructed me that I needed to push through it while R moved the lip and I really did not want to, but weighing my options of being left at a 9 with a lip for who knows how long and this never ending transition or actively working to be able to push were the choices. I chose option b. And so as the contractions hit I pushed with all my might, hoping R was able to get past that awful lip. I couldn’t stand on my knees any longer and next thing I remember I turned around facing the wall and on hands and knees. I had said a few times “WHY won’t this kid come out, I should be done by now”. I was so confused as to what was holding up the process. I just wanted to push already.

I tried to push, but my body wasn’t ready yet so I just rode the next few contractions. I felt like I was making a lot of noise and just moaning through them. Finally, that sensation that you only feel as you’re about to start pushing hit and I realized with relief it was finally go time. I felt the pressure and told them I was going to start pushing, it was almost time. And then I slowly started to push, she was going to take a bit more work than my others, the last 4 had come out in less than 5 pushes. And so I pushed, finally my body took over and I couldn’t stop. And with relief, I felt her crowning, I put my hand down and felt her hair and soft head and smiled to myself. She was finally coming out, I was almost done, and the pain was gone. I told IM to come over and catch her baby and I kept pushing. R was down there and I felt her, I told her to stop touching me to which she replied, “J push now!” and I growled at her, “I AM PUSHING!” I didn’t realize it but the baby had a nuchal cord and R was simply removing the cord but needed me to keep pushing (later we also found she had a true knot in her cord). I thought she was trying to rub my perineum or help me stretch, which I don’t ever need and don’t like anyone touching me due to my first birth when my ob pushed an episiotomy on me. Here I was, trying to tell my midwife how to do her job when I couldn’t see a thing that was going on down there, lol. Good thing she understood.

And so I pushed, I think it took about 8-10 minutes this time. My longest pushing stage by far and I really had to work for it. And finally she was out and earth-side and in her mother’s arms. Watching IM cry and meet her daughter and be the first to hold her child is one of the best moments of my life. IM tried to walk away, just as the midwives reminded her she was still attached to me because of the cord and placenta and she came and sat right next to me as we got me flipped over and sitting down. IF came in and started snapping pictures (I quickly covered up with a blanket) and IM just fell in love with her daughter as we all looked at each other. The children slowly came in and out, my IPs went into another room with T and checked out their daughter and got bonding time alone with their much anticipated and awaited daughter. My kids kept sneaking in to check her out and I kept telling them to stay out of there. I rested and thought to myself that for the first time in my life I could hear a whisper in my ear saying, “Well done good and faithful servant” and that surrogacy for me is a way to serve others through my faith. I smiled to myself and felt contentment and peace as I watched my kids and my IPs and was formally introduced to baby P.

P was born around 4:43 am weighing 8 lbs 8 ounces. She was 20 inches long, 14” head and 14” around the chest (or shoulders can’t remember which they said). All said it was about a 3 and a half hours though I believe I was in labor the entire day before. Transition lasted about 45 minutes and my immediate thoughts were, “I’m NEVER ever doing this again, that back labor was hell”. 11 days later, I’ve taken some time to process the birth. Normally I type out a birth story quickly within a day or so of delivery, but this time I needed to process and work through it and just sit on it. I achieved what I set out to do, I gave P a medicated free start to life and had my 4^th home birth, a calm and peaceful pregnancy and helped 2 people fulfill their years long dream of becoming parents. Was it a pain free birth? Nope. Was it the easiest birth I’ve ever had? Nope. But I’ve come to realize that wasn’t what this birth was about.

Every birth teaches you something. And it was time at 32, for me to learn how to be my most vulnerable self and to ask for help. This birth taught me how to be my most authentic self, even in the bad moments and surrender to the moment and speak up for what I need. Something I’ve never given myself permission to do and that I never had in my marriage and that I had been working on daily for the past two years. I learned how to trust a group of women, something I’d previously never done (ironic as I was raised in a family of 6 girls lol) and to stop closing myself off to fellow womankind. I was given grace in the moment I needed it, through my midwife stepping up even amidst a time when she shouldn’t have had to and giving to me what I needed to get through those moments. I have never in my life had a moment like that where I completely surrendered and trusted another woman with my vulnerabilities 100%, until P’s birth. And I count myself blessed to have been taught these lessons. It doesn’t mean I’ll have the lesson down pat and always reach out easily, but it’s a part of me now. That day, those hours, these women . . . my IPs, P, my children . . . all of it will forever mark March 28^th as a day of beauty, grace, new beginnings, hope and contentment. Many say how lucky my IP’s are, I look at them and tell them how lucky I am. My children and I are forever changed by surrogacy and by Pearl’s birth and count ourselves so very lucky to have been able to be a part of it and a part of their lives. All is truly well with my soul.