Pizza, Skunk Spray, and a Beautiful Blessing: This Birth Story Has it All

“Another one!” I called to Brent, who was timing contractions. I pulled in a deep breath and slowly blew out, finding focus in blowing on the inside of my wrist. I relaxed my abdomen as best I could and heard Brent call back, “Got it! I’m going to let the dogs out to potty before we go!”

I closed my eyes as the contraction eased up and heard the trailer door open, then three sets of paws clawing down the metal stairs accompanied by snarling and growling and Brent’s deep warning, “Nooo!” I waited for signs of what had happened, unable to do anything to help. I lay on my side with a pillow prepped between my knees, listening for any indication of what happened. It was after 10:00 at night—that much I knew. We are staying at Rancho Jurupa Regional Park. Coyotes are out at night. There are lots of skunks. But there are also a few early weekenders coming in: there could be other dogs walking by that upset our pack.

After what seemed an eternity, Brent slowly ascended the trailer steps and called to me, “Well, the dogs just got sprayed in the face by a skunk.”

I didn’t even have time to respond. I called back, “Another one!” and breathed into another contraction.

Thursday, August 18, 2016 had started normally and was filled with errands. It was hot—95 degrees by the time we started our errands at 9:00am. I was still uncomfortably pregnant and we were awaiting the weekend to move our set-up to Yucaipa Regional Park, where we would be staying during the two-week window of my due date, August 27. Evelyn had gymnastics in Rancho Cucamonga at 10:00 and we had a chiropractor appointment scheduled in Redlands with a chiropractor who had been adjusting me to help turn the baby from the sunny-side-up position at 11:30. We decided I’d take Evelyn to gymnastics and then to Redlands while Brent drove straight to Redlands to run some errands of his own and we’d meet at the chiropractor and then have lunch.

It was a busy morning; the adjustment went well. We drove to Downtown Redlands for pizza and wound up meeting with Brent’s mom and older daughter, who needed a ride to the airport as she was passing through town. I walked this pregnant body two blocks from where we parked to the pizza place and back, reading a local bank’s digital announcement that it was 104 degrees out.

Brent drove his older daughter to Orange County and I returned to Jurupa with Evelyn, where I put on a movie for the kiddo but felt compelled to get things done. I’d been instructed to walk, walk, walk to get the baby turned, and I was committed to getting her to turn from her side to her proper position for my comfort and for hers since we had a week and half to go to “D” Day. I loaded laundry into our wagon and traipsed it across the lawn to the laundry room, which is luckily close by but in the heat it felt like a mile. Of course, I forgot the tokens back at the trailer and then a few essentials that had to be washed, so that added a few extra laps to the chore. I chatted with a campground host in the laundry room while I managed six loads into the washers. We chatted again when I returned to put them in the dryer.

When I got back, Brent was returning and I had developed a habit of placing my right hand to my lower pelvis. Brent asked what was wrong. 

“I may need you to go get the laundry," I replied. "I’ve probably been overdoing it." 

I had a dull pain that rose every now and then in my lower pelvis, and though I wasn’t thinking much of it, I was thinking the pizza from lunch along with the heat and exhaustion was probably going to land me in the bathroom at some point. That was about the extent of it. It was around 7:00 pm.

As evening settled in, we went about our business and I continued to have some cramping every so often. I was totally convinced it was digestive in nature. I told Brent I was going to go take it easy and lay down and hoped I would just pass whatever needed to pass. I lay in bed and returned some texts. I even took a shower to relax but it didn’t ease the occasional cramping. Brent bathed Evelyn to settle her in for the night and I went in to help her, but between the cramping and the bending with the pregnant belly, I apologized that I couldn’t help her much and told her I needed to go relax.

I texted two friends that I had had pizza that was upsetting my stomach as late as 8:45pm. I wasn’t putting pieces together. This wasn’t what labor felt like with Evelyn. I had had some similar cramping with her, but those cramps had quickly escalated to some definitive contractions that I remembered as having been significantly painful. These cramps didn’t seem to be getting worse and they didn’t have me incapacitated. It couldn’t be labor.

Then, I stood up and felt a surge come on that froze me in my tracks. I couldn’t respond when Evelyn asked me a question from the other room. It occurred to me I could try the Hypno-breathing I’d been reading about as practice for the “real thing” and when it helped, I realized this WAS perhaps the Real Thing.

It wasn’t until after 9:00pm that I announced to Brent, “Babe, I think these are contractions.”

He replied, “Ok, what can I do?”

What could he do? Would the contractions end up being false labor or not? We didn’t have a bag packed. Evelyn was still in the bath. I couldn’t do anything because I had to keep finding a comfortable position in which to focus myself through surges.

This is where Brent truly shines. He packed bags with clothes for me and for Evelyn; he packed fruits, power snacks, drinks, and sandwiches. He cleaned up and made calls all at once. He got Evelyn out of the bath and into bed with me.

I wasn’t timing anything at this point. I figured they’d either go away or get worse and I couldn’t tell which would happen.

At 10:05, I called Tammy, our midwife. She suggested I start timing them and to try to relax: take a shower, watch a movie, do whatever I would normally do this time of night. She said to let her know what happened over the course of 45 minutes to an hour. So, the clock began. Brent contacted my mom, who would watch Evelyn and be at the birth center with us for the event. All systems were activated.

Evelyn climbed into bed with me and opened up a counting book featuring Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck asking me to read to her. I told her I’d read to her but would have to stop to breathe every so often. I suggested she count during my breaths to help me out. She did that wonderfully. I explained what may be happening and told her not to worry about me, that everything happening was normal and was part of how sister would arrive. I asked if she wanted to be there at Tammy’s house if sister came out of my tummy tonight and she said she absolutely did.

Every two pages into reading, I’d call out to Brent, “Here’s another one!” and have Evelyn count during my breathing. He’d call back, “Three and a half minutes!” We were about ten pages in when the dogs got skunked.

Now what??

“Oh well! I’ll tie them up outside and leave them there when we have to go!” Brent threw his hands up.

“Noooo! Heidi will get eaten by a coyote!” Evelyn wailed in reply.

Apparently, the skunk had climbed into Evelyn’s bike trailer and when the dogs charged, they were met with a tail lifted into their faces. They quickly turned in their tracks and ran to the grass, rubbing their faces frantically all over the grass. Inside, I read, breathed, and waited while Brent assessed the damage. He brought a smelly Heidi into the room to share the stink. She smelled of burnt rubber more than anything; luckily the bike trailer had taken the brunt of the damage. The decision was made to lock them in the bathroom with the fan on if we had to leave. Evelyn passed out beside me and with my counting buddy down for the count, the dogs smelling of skunk, and my contractions closing to 3 minutes apart in 40 minutes, we decided it was time to go.

Brent loaded a sleeping Evelyn into the car while I tried walking around the island in the kitchen. In the back of my head a voice told me to stay on the linoleum and I ushered myself into Evelyn’s room where I braced my forearms and forehead against the top bunk for an oncoming surge. I gasped. Something had happened and I couldn’t tell what. Had the baby fallen out? Suddenly, a pressure was momentarily removed and it was as if a hatch had opened. It seemed gallons of water had fallen to the floor beneath me. Brent heard my gasp as he climbed the entry stairs and rushed to my side. So, that’s what water breaking feels like! Brent cleaned me and helped me change and helped me to the car. Baby was officially on her way!

The ride from Jurupa to Yucaipa seemed suspended in time. It was a time warp comprised only in a series of surges, many of which were significantly stronger than others. I found solace in deep breaths in and began humming and making vibrating sounds on my exhales. I squeezed Brent’s hand and listened to his voice telling me how wonderfully I was doing while finding focus in relaxing my abdomen and finding comfort in the wave-like movement of each surge, particularly those that pushed waters out in perfect sync with what nature intended to happen. My body was working as it needed, but I knew I was in for a long night and kept in mind that each surge was building to more powerful surges as we got closer to the moment. I was preparing for the long haul.

I had a pretty strong surge as we were turning into the birthing center and briefly doubted myself and my capability to do this, but as I focused again on the wave it created in my body and the downward motion needed to push the baby into place, I eased up and relaxed before the next would arrive. After we got out of the car, I had to lean on Brent pretty heavily, holding to his neck in the night as another strong surge pushed through my abdomen. Again, I focused on the wave and found reassurance in the waters pushed from my body as nature was doing its job.

When we got inside, I found instant comfort in the warm and calm welcome from Tammy and her helpers. They worked in perfect expertise, there for me and providing just the hands and words needed to help another woman in this very natural process of life. They helped clean me again and helped me to the bed, where my vitals were checked as was my progress.

Tammy announced, “Well, I’m feeling a tiny anterior lip, but I’m getting you at nine and half!”

“Seriously?!” was my reply. What??? But I thought I was just in the beginning stages! Evelyn’s labor was 18 hours! It was only 12:00am. I didn’t even realize I was in labor until after 10:00pm!

I had three surges while lying on the bed and I asked if I could get in the tub, which had been prepped and filled before our arrival. Brent told me he wasn’t sure if Tammy wanted me to because I was so close, but I really wanted to get in that water. The other women helped me to the tub and I had just sat down when I had another contraction. It was a strong one. My abdomen even shuddered in a light convulsion I had felt with a couple of the other stronger contractions.

The midwives helped me turn length wise in the tub before the next contraction arrived and I turned just in time, it seemed. I breathed in as I felt it coming on and then felt nature taking over. My body was pushing her out whether I was going to help or not. I pushed along with the surge and could feel her pushing out into the world. I took a breath and heard Tammy suggest I reach down and feel her head. I did and was amazed for a brief moment but only faintly heard Tammy suggest I push my hand against myself to help her out because my body was already pushing. I braced myself and pushed with the surge, and I felt her entire body push out into the water. An amazing release, a shell-shocked breath in, and a “Look! Here’s your baby!” surrounded me all at once as a tiny little soul was placed on my stomach.

I did it.

 

“You made that look easy!” I was told.

I had arrived at the birth center at 11:55pm and she arrived at 12:10am. I had set a record: She arrived 15 minutes after I had arrived at the center. I had not believed I was even in labor until only an hour and a half ago. How did I get so lucky? How could we have been so blessed?

When my mom arrived, she found me still in the tub, surrounded by the midwives and by Brent at my head telling me how proud he was of me. A baby lay on my chest, her cord still attached and pulsing.

We waited until the cord stopped pulsing completely. I lay in the tub with this beautiful creature resting calmly on my chest. I warmed her with water from the tub and the wet towel that lay over her. Brent stroked my hair and time stood still in calm serenity. The baby didn’t cry, no one had shouted or hollered commands at us, and she had entered the world in a peace that seems to complement her personality harmoniously.

I was helped from the tub to the bed and after some basic checks and cleaning, we were left to bond as a family. In a moment that stands out as everyone was complimenting me on how well I had done, Brent made a comment that will forever stand suspended as particularly flattering to me: “And your hair even looks awesome!” I know how silly that sounds to have latched onto that, but I felt I was walking in a glow and it’s those little things that will forever be preserved in my memory.

Evelyn had slept through the whole thing despite Brent trying to wake her while I lay in the tub with her sister afterward. He carried her into the bed to be with us and kept trying to wake her to no avail, but at least she was there!

  

Mom was holding the baby when tiny fists went to a tiny mouth and she told us for the first time that she was hungry. I held her to my breast and it took her less than a minute to show me she knew just what to do. She was a natural, latching perfectly and swallowing in seconds.

Brent brought me water and I devoured the fruit he had brought and the sandwiches my mom had brought. We were checked and baby was checked and by 4:00am, we were dressed and ready to go home to the comfort of our own home. I was walking, smiling, completely supported, and not feeling any of the soreness and fatigue I had felt with Evelyn’s birth.

I’m so grateful for this experience. THIS is childbirth. THIS is the experience I didn’t know could exist when I had Evelyn. It was calm. It was peaceful. I was surrounded by confidence and serenity. I was already healing. Baby was happy and assured by a smooth transition into the world. Everything about this baby and birth process was a blessing. In the end, she had arrived “sunny side up”, facing us and the world. It hadn’t made a difference in labor or delivery, as it turns out. Her entrance does, however, suit her spirit.

Kailyn Wynsley, this beautiful little soul, is the very essence of serenity. Her entrance into the world and our family is the mark of her character. She is the break of night into day and day into night, the calm of the ocean after the sun has set. The essence that inspired her name has rung true through her entrance to the world in both the tone and literal sense—the water. Through a life changing experience for me in childbirth and as a soul who would arrive to change all of our lives for the better, she is a blessing.

Welcome, Kailyn Wynsley. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for coming into our lives.

Sayla'n Away!

 

Evelyn created a name some time ago for the new baby: Sayla. She originally wanted to name her “Trailer”—that’s just how much she enjoyed camping in our old trailer—but when we objected, she was proud to have found the solution as a name that sounded similar to her first choice. As we’ve transitioned into a Fulltime Trailering Family, we suggested that her creative name for the baby instead be bestowed upon our new home. She was really excited! She said our new trailer could be named “Sayla”, absolutely! And so, we have a name for our new home, and we’ve officially “Set Sayla’n”.

Of course, Evelyn was most excited that now she could name little sister “Fettuccini” instead, but that’s another matter.   

We are nearly two weeks into Sayla being our new home now. It’s been a crazy month of sorting, packing, donating, storing, and organizing. We’ve had as many emotional bumps as physical as we’ve compartmentalized nearly twenty years of living in a home in order to transition into this life. It was not an easy ordeal, and for me at 7-8 months pregnant through the process, helping to make it all happen and keep the waterworks under control had its own challenges.

Our House is Officially in the Rear View Mirror!

 

But here we are. I’m typing this sitting on the couch in the trailer—Sayla. I’m looking out the windows over a field that spills into wetlands and then crawls up into the hills. The sun has not yet risen and the sky is a soft shade of periwinkle spreckled with soft clouds.  Emmy, the sweet pit bull, is snoring in her bed at my feet. Crows are cawing overhead and birds are just beginning their first songs of the day. The baby is kicking the day into gear from within, seemingly as content with the peace and quiet as I am. We have arrived.
 

Home, Sweet Home (for this week!)

 

It’s nice to enjoy the quiet and simplicity now, but the first week out wasn’t nearly as serene. We started our journey by pulling the new trailer away from our newly vacant house on Sunday, July 17. Our destination was Doheny State Beach, the very familiar locale of our annual camping trip with friends and family. We pulled in after dark and Brent did beautifully parking the 42 foot home in a blessedly larger spot for the campground (and our favorite, site 3). Friends and family immediately welcomed us despite the late hour and were excited for the official launch of our new life.

The days that followed were filled with the challenges of settling into a new home—one that needs electricity and water hooked up to function at its best in a place that does not have those things to offer. Brent drove 150 miles in the next couple of days just gathering the parts he needed to get the solar panels up and running enough to keep our residential fridge running on battery power. Then, he spent hours either on the roof or under compartments getting the wiring in place. I sweated and swelled up in the heat, cursing the lack of air circulation in our new trailer, keeping fans running when and where I could to find some comfort in the new home. Evelyn’s dog, Heidi, got sick and christened our new bedroom with two urine stains and three vomit stains. I cursed a lot. Cousins and friends kept Evelyn busy breaking in her new bedroom and play loft, adding a fair amount of healthy chaos to the week, but their presence and role in helping her find pride and comfort in her new home were priceless. The week didn’t start to feel like a vacation until the last two days but we knew all along it was different—this was our new life and home, not just a vacation anymore!

First Camp as a Fulltime Family-- Site 3 at Doheny

 

Some Family Fun at Doheny

Us at Doheny

When we pulled into Prado Regional Park in Chino on Sunday, July 24, it was like a breath of fresh air: open spaces, rolling views, a concrete patio pad, and most importantly HOOK-UPS. With the air conditioning inside breathing new life into us, we turned on “Monsters Inc.” and enjoyed our first down time as a family in our new home. We enjoyed the evening as the city lights of Corona emerged in the darkness, shimmering over the hills and wetlands behind the campground. We were finally getting settled.

Our View, Day One at Prado

 

It’s been 100 degrees this week. I wish that could be different. Despite this, though, we’ve visited the splash pad here twice and have had welcome visitors from cousins to friends to enjoy the time with us. We’ve spent time outside, playing baseball, throwing the ball for Emmy, taking walks, riding bikes, and playing in the small inflatable wading pool we brought as Evelyn’s make-shift bath tub. We’ve taken in sights we wouldn’t have seen in a normal day at home: peacocks, skunks, coyotes in the fields behind us. We’ve seen lots of cows as there are more dairies still here in Chino than I’d imagined. We’ve stopped to look at the old planes at the Chino Airport and are planning a trip to the museum there next week.

We’ve actually visited the house a few times this week removing the last of our belongings. It’s vacant. It feels as familiar as an old friend, though it feels good to have drawn a line and set it off on its new life as we’ve set out on ours. Evelyn has asked when we’ve been there if we can go back to the trailer, making me happy to know she’s making a smooth transition into this new home.

Enjoying Her Bed and Best Friend, Heidi

 

Evelyn's Room, Decorated Herself

 

Enjoying the Play Loft

 

We enjoyed a supportive and love-filled celebration yesterday. Our family and friends held a “Great Adventure Party” for us, helping us celebrate our new home, upcoming travels, and new baby—all a recipe for a great adventure, to be sure! We left with a labeled map of locations recommended to visit, an annual pass to America’s national parks, lots of generous gifts, and most importantly the love and support of the people we are blessed enough to call our closest friends and family.

Of course, the first huge step in this transition has officially been climbed and staked: moving out of our house and into the trailer. We still have the next huge transition on which to focus: having this baby! I’m 36 weeks along yesterday and she’ll be here in four weeks (give or take, of course). We can finally start shopping for the bare necessities we’ll need to accommodate her now that we’re getting the lay of our new land. Maybe we can finally put more thought into what her name will be! That might be nice!

Brent, Me, and Baby at the Adventure Party

 

What is our plan from here? I canceled the week we would have spent again at Doheny this week in favor of extending our stay at Prado, though we did keep the upcoming weekend at the beach. From there, we’ll move on to a two week stay at Jurupa Regional Park, where we’ll be a bit closer to Yucaipa if the baby should arrive early. For the last two weeks in August, we’ll be at Yucaipa Regional Park, which is two miles from the birthing center. We’ll be there during the window she is actually due, so we’ll see if she cooperates with our scheduling. Labor Day weekend has us settling back in at Prado, where we’ll stay through the middle of September. After that, with a 2-3 week old settling in to our family, we’ll hit the road.

Our first leg of the trip for the Fall will take us from Arizona up through Utah, Colorado, Idaho, Wyoming, and Montana. Then, we’ll head back south with the destination of Oklahoma in our sights, where we plan to spend some time parked on my dad and step-mom’s ranch through November into December. We’ll set path back to California for Christmas. As winter descends, we’ll plan a new path, either sticking to the west coast or traveling along the south where the weather remains moderate. As for specific destinations, we don’t have many original thoughts!

Would you care to add to our “Bucket List” destination guide? To where should we “Set Sayla’n”??

I Wished to Live Deliberately

Since Brent and I met, he's longed to explore. In our young 20s together, he wanted to backpack from snow resort to the next, working to snowboard and stay in dormitory lodging. Our compromise then was good for both of us: we backpacked Europe and even attempted to make London our home. We had a blast, though living in London didn't pan out when we realized how hard it was to find work. 

When we returned from Europe, we started looking for a house. We found this house on Dorset St. in Rancho Cucamonga and we've been here ever since. That's 18 years here. We've spent our entire adult lives living here and in doing so have loved, lost, cried, partied, laughed, and learned together. We've brought the house from funky to modern and have now raised a daughter and are growing another under its roof.

1998-2016: Dorset St. has seen us through a generation!

This is a lot more than we had planned for our time in this house. As we all know, once we start investing in things, we become bound to them. We start spending money, and making money to spend more money, and working to find vacation time, and then working until we hope we don't have to work anymore one day. We become fastened to our investments and we start looking to upgrade to the next investments. Then we die, right?

We were locked into that version of the American Dream and have been since we bought this house in some way. We've spent the last decade or so looking at hundreds of other homes on the market throughout Rancho Cucamonga and Alta Loma, looking to do what any seeker of the American Dream is looking to do: upgrade. We dreamed of a half acre and eventually a good school district and school zone for our family to mature and probably retire. The travel dreams were forgotten in favor of settling for that once a year vacation and we had molded ourselves into that traditional version of the American Dream. Perhaps it was fate that we never found the right fit and stayed put... in this starter home that would seemingly become our forever home.

Then, I became an activist and a law was passed in California that changed everything. This matter is a whole other entry, but it jolted me into remembering what Brent and I had pushed to the back of our hearts and minds. It reminded me that there is a whole country and life out there and that we would never experience it if we stayed in the pigeon hole we had allowed ourselves to believe was our intended path. Taking an abysmal epiphany about reality and shaping it into a future we could embrace and revel in, we developed our own version of the American Dream.

We started by selling the lot on Red Hill that we had bought in 2003 when we began to dream of building our dream home and dream life. Though we still had a fading vision of the dream home and life there that would never be, we also couldn't wait to get it off our hands. With money in the bank and new sense of freedom after shedding something so significant, we pressed onward. We bought a home on wheels-- a 42' palace of a fifth wheel with not one but two special spaces for Evelyn to sleep and play. It would become our new home. But what of Dorset St.? We put our home of 18 years, the home we know like the back of our hands, on the market. Within a day we had an offer and within a week, we were in escrow. I guess this is really happening.



The New Home

So, what are we doing?

We're pursuing life, knowledge, family. We're seizing the opportunities blessed upon us by my job and the sale of our investments and we're investing in our own small and growing family. We are taking a break from the state we've known and are instead seeking experience. We're removing Brent from the daily grind he settled into and are bringing him into the family, where he can spend quality time with us-- be a husband and father while exploring and sating the wanderlust he has long suppressed.

We're pursuing simplicity (albeit in a luxury home on wheels) and purpose. We're seeking comfort and experiences. We're open to new places, a potential new life, a potential new future.

And it's happening in less than two months.

Escrow closes mid-July. Our first stop, appropriately enough, will be our annual camping trip at Doheny with family and friends. After our seven day stay at the vacation spot we love so much, we will likely be staying local to friends and family, bouncing from Prado to Jurupa to Yucaipa Regional Parks. I'll be plenty huge with Baby #2 by August, and we'll be staying in Yucaipa at that point to be near the birthing center where we will welcome her into the world and our new adventures. While we'll stay local throughout some portion of September, the four of us will be setting off for new adventures before Fall's end.

Though I've always loved Thoreau, and teaching his works and philosophies was a highlight of my year in the high school classroom, I had never thought I'd be taking a step into his world. So, here we go... on our quest to learn what life has to teach... and in the process strengthen our existence as a family and as individuals.