Nearly seventeen years ago I was sitting outside on the swing in our front yard of base housing in Hawaii. My husband at the time came outside. He had been on the phone with some friends from when we lived in Maryland, and they had just had their third child.
"We should have another baby," I said (or something to that effect). And though it was day 22 of my cycle, and not likely, we gave it a go right then (well, we went inside and locked the bedroom door), and lo and behold our third child was soon the way. At least that is how I remember it now. It was a long time ago.
I had a lot of morning sickness with Taryn. Not as much as with Tierney, but to the point where I was sick of throwing things up. Peanut butter and hardboiled eggs were especially bad. I was happy she was a girl.
As you probably know by now, Taryn was born at home. I had been getting midwifery care at Tripler (sp?) hospital, but I had bought a birth kit, because I really wanted a home birth. Taryn's dad read the book "Emergency Childbirth" to be prepared, and I waited to see how I would feel on THAT day.
It was a busy day. I had a nonstress test in the morning, because it was one week past the due date. That was fine. I took the kids to the beach in the morning, and then Tierney to afternoon preschool (that lasted two weeks or so. I guess I have always been a bit soft, plus I really wanted to homeschool). As I was picking Tierney up from preschool around four p.m., I noticed painless contractions about 30 seconds to a minute long. I took both Tierney and Caleb up to the playground, and let them play, I had to pick their dad up at Kunia, which was about a 25 minute highway drive at five or five-thirty (I can't remember), so I we had some time time to kill before then.
The contractions continued, painless, but coming every three minutes or so. As I was driving to Kunia, they started to become more painful. I let my husband drive home. By time we were home (six?) they hurt. I tried taking a bath, but the tub was hard. I got out and then I got in and tried again. I decided it hurt too much, and had my husband call the hospital to see if I could get an epidural (being in the midwife program meant I was supposed to try to avoid epidurals), but come on, the pain. They wouldn't answer definitively, and I saw no other reason for going. I shut myself in my room, and my visiting mom watched the kids. I buried my face in my pillow at times to keep quiet. Finally, at one point, I decided I was done, and I was pushing her out!
So I started to push. The pushing lasted about in my mind about 15 minutes, but it could have been 30 or 45, I had no real concept of time. She would come down, and then after the contraction, slide back in. I remember crouching and feeling her head. I remember thinking I needed to stay upright and let gravity work. I remember worrying that if I pushed too soon, my cervix would swell, so I guess I was more reasonable than I give myself credit for. Finally I lay on my side, pulled my right leg straight into the air, and out slid baby girl. Her dad caught her and placed her on my belly.
The next day we took her to the ER to be checked. She was about 8 and a half pounds. she was my smallest baby. She was in perfect health.
She was born around 8:15 p.m.
I have always loved retelling Taryn's birth story, because it has always been such a natural and pleasant memory for me.
But the story doesn't end there. The story is of a sweet, goofy, serious girl. Taryn was never a difficult child (stubborn at time, like not wearing her retainer, but I guess she will have to deal with that. She has also never been thrilled about me getting pregnant with Liam and Gabe, but she is a good sister). She has had her moments, but overall she has been fairly easy to reason with from a young age (unless it involved shoes). She always loved clothing. She has a good sense of humor, but has my slow manner of processing and taking things in before reacting. Taryn is an artist. With words, with pictures, any canvas she has chosen to apply herself to, she has been successful. She can dance. She said it doesn't come naturally, she has to work harder than most, but when she gets it, she is lovely She has her dad's slender bones, and coppery brown hair. I have always thought her beautiful.
Taryn is smart and reflective, a vegetarian, and already a better cook than me (not that I set the bar high, but she NEVER rushes). She isn't sure what she will do in the world. She wants to write. Whatever it is, I am sure she will use her quiet, confidently-independent grace to reflect the world in some intriguing way.
"We should have another baby," I said (or something to that effect). And though it was day 22 of my cycle, and not likely, we gave it a go right then (well, we went inside and locked the bedroom door), and lo and behold our third child was soon the way. At least that is how I remember it now. It was a long time ago.
I had a lot of morning sickness with Taryn. Not as much as with Tierney, but to the point where I was sick of throwing things up. Peanut butter and hardboiled eggs were especially bad. I was happy she was a girl.
As you probably know by now, Taryn was born at home. I had been getting midwifery care at Tripler (sp?) hospital, but I had bought a birth kit, because I really wanted a home birth. Taryn's dad read the book "Emergency Childbirth" to be prepared, and I waited to see how I would feel on THAT day.
It was a busy day. I had a nonstress test in the morning, because it was one week past the due date. That was fine. I took the kids to the beach in the morning, and then Tierney to afternoon preschool (that lasted two weeks or so. I guess I have always been a bit soft, plus I really wanted to homeschool). As I was picking Tierney up from preschool around four p.m., I noticed painless contractions about 30 seconds to a minute long. I took both Tierney and Caleb up to the playground, and let them play, I had to pick their dad up at Kunia, which was about a 25 minute highway drive at five or five-thirty (I can't remember), so I we had some time time to kill before then.
The contractions continued, painless, but coming every three minutes or so. As I was driving to Kunia, they started to become more painful. I let my husband drive home. By time we were home (six?) they hurt. I tried taking a bath, but the tub was hard. I got out and then I got in and tried again. I decided it hurt too much, and had my husband call the hospital to see if I could get an epidural (being in the midwife program meant I was supposed to try to avoid epidurals), but come on, the pain. They wouldn't answer definitively, and I saw no other reason for going. I shut myself in my room, and my visiting mom watched the kids. I buried my face in my pillow at times to keep quiet. Finally, at one point, I decided I was done, and I was pushing her out!
So I started to push. The pushing lasted about in my mind about 15 minutes, but it could have been 30 or 45, I had no real concept of time. She would come down, and then after the contraction, slide back in. I remember crouching and feeling her head. I remember thinking I needed to stay upright and let gravity work. I remember worrying that if I pushed too soon, my cervix would swell, so I guess I was more reasonable than I give myself credit for. Finally I lay on my side, pulled my right leg straight into the air, and out slid baby girl. Her dad caught her and placed her on my belly.
The next day we took her to the ER to be checked. She was about 8 and a half pounds. she was my smallest baby. She was in perfect health.
She was born around 8:15 p.m.
I have always loved retelling Taryn's birth story, because it has always been such a natural and pleasant memory for me.
But the story doesn't end there. The story is of a sweet, goofy, serious girl. Taryn was never a difficult child (stubborn at time, like not wearing her retainer, but I guess she will have to deal with that. She has also never been thrilled about me getting pregnant with Liam and Gabe, but she is a good sister). She has had her moments, but overall she has been fairly easy to reason with from a young age (unless it involved shoes). She always loved clothing. She has a good sense of humor, but has my slow manner of processing and taking things in before reacting. Taryn is an artist. With words, with pictures, any canvas she has chosen to apply herself to, she has been successful. She can dance. She said it doesn't come naturally, she has to work harder than most, but when she gets it, she is lovely She has her dad's slender bones, and coppery brown hair. I have always thought her beautiful.
Taryn is smart and reflective, a vegetarian, and already a better cook than me (not that I set the bar high, but she NEVER rushes). She isn't sure what she will do in the world. She wants to write. Whatever it is, I am sure she will use her quiet, confidently-independent grace to reflect the world in some intriguing way.
