Have I told you that we don't always do things the normal or conventional way? It's true. Sometimes I don't know the specific reason God calls to do something a particular way. I just obey. Early in my first trimester DH and I decided to use a midwife for this pregnancy and have a homebirth. My sister-in-law and just had her first using the midwife we choose. And she had absolutely loved her. It was natural for us to choose Linda to be a part of pregnancy and birth experience. 1. There are not many midwifes qualified to do homebirths in our area. 2. She is a believer. 3. Her spirit is so sweet.
The first time I met her we drove out to her country home. We were greeted with a smile and ushered in. She offered us something to drink and led us over to her table. Since this was our first meeting we took some time to get to know each other. She asked us questions about our desires. About the pregnancy. About us in general. We asked questions about her experience. What to expect. Her in general. She was so warm and friendly. She was kind enough to not talk about food on that visit. I believe I had gotten sick on the way out.
Then we went into her side room. A futon with pillows lined one wall. Books galore about women, pregnany, babies and other things natural lined another. I laid down on the futon, excited and a bit nervous. Linda felt around my uterus, taking measurements. She prepped the doppler and put the slippery gel on my belly. A moment later we were listening to swishes, first mine then another. So rapid swish, swish, swish. It was my BABY! It had a heart and it was beating. Linda said it also had a brain because it moved away. How incredibly awesome.
So it was settled that it would be homebirth indeed. And Linda would be our midwife.
Much of the second trimester was uneventful. I started feeling better. I watched the girls everyday after school and occasionally on weekends. I could eat. I had energy and life was good.
I loved going to garage sales and find deals for this little one. Toys and such. I was a bit naive. Much of what I got was not necessary...oh well. It was a fun time of preperation. To say the least we were excited about this little life within.
Since we were having a homebirth it was our choice whether or not to have an ultrasound. As for me, I want to know. I want to see that little life. I want to know the sex of the baby. Please tell me, please. At 20 weeks we set up an appointment, drank the unreal amounts of water, waited painfully for the visit and arrived with much anticipation. These visits are so much fun; well the full bladder is not fun but I digress. The tech globbed up my belly, and went to work. There is black and white alein form was our little one. She went about measuring, telling us as she went what was what. Hands flailed. Feet kicked. And the heavens smiled as legs parted. It was beyond a shadow of a doubt...all boy. The tech in her humor even wrote penis on the picture she sent home with us. She was positive, I was convinced. Either it was truely a boy or it's thumb was very creative. No...it WAS a boy. It was right then and there in that office that our son was named. It was my hubby that spoke it and I was in agreement. Well, his middle name I had to think over but it sounded good to me. As we left the office the cell phone went to work. Calling everyone with the news. We don't do so good with saving stuff like that for face to face visits. We just have to tell the world.
One thing I loved about having the ultrasound and finding out the sex was that we could now pray for him by name. It was no longer this little one within me. He had a name. He was beginning his identity and it was good.
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