Born at home with wonderful midwives and a doula yesterday at 6:41am. Seven pounds, six ounces; 20.5 inches long. My water broke with a huge gush at 2:30 Monday morning, and by midnight I'd started seven hours of intense, intense unmedicated active labour, most of it standing up and hanging on for dear life to Mr. K. Eventually they got me to sit down on a birthing stool, and she crowned fairly quickly after that. At the end of it her whole little body came out with one giant push.
She is alert and mostly very calm. She and I are learning how to keep her fed. I am sore -- I tore in a bunch of rather odd places and needed stitches, and oh my god the hemorrhoids -- and had a bad time yesterday a couple of hours after the birth when I got up to use the washroom. I ended up leaving a trail of bloody footprints from the bed to the toilet, and nearly passed out while I was sitting there. A big bottle of Gatorade, a shot of Oxytocin, and some shepherd's purse helped a lot; within hours I was feeling worlds better.
The home birth was exactly the right option for us. Surrounded by familiar things, able to move around as we wanted, into our own bed shortly after her arrival. I haven't been out of bed much since; she's been getting plenty of skin-to-skin contact. So far she's met Mr. K's parents and sister, who are somewhat pleased to have her around. Mr. K has handled all the diaper duty so far, which is more than fine with me.
She is here and I feel like a lioness.