I was looking for a specific kind of experience with the birth of my child. That is not to say that I had all of the details mapped out. No, in fact the only birth plan I had was “To have my baby, at home as long as it’s possible.” The specific experience I was seeking, was one of empowerment. A period of time where my mind, body, and spirit worked together towards something I truly wanted for myself, to become a mother. I envisioned, but was not always sure, that birthing my baby could give this to me.
Also in my birth plan was a request for no one to utter the words “Are you sure?” Doubt has been an active participant in my life. Since I knew doubt well on the inside, I certainly didn’t need anyone on the outside adding to it. But I digress…
I began working with Ellen and Kristina, the midwives of Wombservice Midwifery at 13 weeks gestation and thus was able to build a foundation of trust between them, my man and I. In their care I created a relationship to my pregnant body and to my baby that I believe is the basis for the success of our home birth. If you are in search of midwifery care they come highly highly recommended.
On to the story…
It was merely my due date but already I was feeling impatient. I had been told that the baby could come as early as 37 weeks and now I was at week 40…so I pressed my nose against the glass window of the womb store, chanting "open open open." In an effort to “let go” I blogged about this in Due Date Dreaming.
In an added effort to let go, my love and I took the dog to the beach, then we ran a muck in Target, playing with the toys and generally just being a menace. Giggling wildly, we got many a sideways glance from the new parents shopping with sleeping infants in their carts. Then, with our practical purchases of razors, toothbrushes and a squeaky squirrel-shaped dog toy we headed to the grocery store. It was there that I began to realize that it felt like I was wetting my pants very slowly.
A call to Ellen brought us to the conclusion that my water was leaking and I was instructed to take echinacea and vitamin C, eat a good meal and later a snack, sleep as soundly as I could and refrain from putting anything in my vagina. I was also given strict instructions not to do anything to bring on contractions. Most likely labor would start in the morning so it was best to be well rested and fueled for the journey ahead.
So we traded our craved pepperoni pizza dinner for a more healthy and sensible rice and kale dish. By the time I got home, I found blood when I wiped and so it seemed our baby was truly on its way.
Around 4am, I woke with a contraction that felt a lot like menstrual cramps. Thinking they were supposed to hurt much more, I doubted that I was really in labor. At 6:30 am I had another. Not wanting to watch a boiling pot into stopping…I got up and showered and went about my day. At some point I called Ellen to give an update. She advised me to not time the contractions too closely but to keep myself busy. If I felt the urge to time them, then she suggested I do so for 5 or 6 of them, but not to get obsessed with it.
By rough estimate, I was having 2 or 3 contractions an hour (but I was still not convinced I was in labor)…so we went to The Goodwill to find a bowl for the placenta. While shopping, I began to stop what I was doing and focus on the sensation of each contraction. Perhaps I was really in labor? Then we got some Mexican food and went home.
At home, while we played cards and ate Miso Soup, I decided to time a few of the contractions. Turned out they were about 8 minutes apart and about 50 seconds long. Each contraction required me to stop and breath through, though they weren’t extremely intense. Genaro, my love, was super supportive, but as a man I doubted he knew what to do and when, so I called my midwife and she suggested we call Karlon, our birth attendant and friend, and tell her it was time to come.
She arrived at 7pm and once she was in attendance I was able to stop thinking. She is a woman who has given birth naturally and believes in home birth. I was now able to just be in my body. I trusted her to know what might be going on. At this point the contractions began to feel heavy in my back. After a couple of hours they were closer together. Karlon suggested that we call the midwives to come.
Not long after 9pm the ladies showed up. Ellen determined that my waters had not actually been leaking and therefore I could get into the birth tub. A huge relief. As I did, Genaro brought in a beautiful cactus that had a budding flower. He had been closely tracking the bud for a few weeks, waiting for it to open, and as it turned out, it blossomed that night. He brought it in and put it on the baby’s alter. What a beautiful symbol of the balance between the masculine and the feminine; a tall phallic cactus with a huge white soft flower hanging off of it. And it smelled like nothing I had smelled before and it bloomed for only one night...The night I was in labor.
With all parties in attendance and my laboring body in the birthing tub, I left. I entered what they call labor land, because from this point on, the linear nature of the story stops. The rest is written loosely in a way to mimic how I experienced it…I had many more contractions than the ones I document here…
Contraction: Horse lips, moaning, birth tub, Karlon massaging my hips together during to relieve my back pain
Break: Remembering what Jessica taught during Thai Goddess Pose in Prenatal Yoga* Once a contraction is over…let it go.
Contraction: Breathe 2 3 4, breathe 2 3 4. Okay. I can do this.
Break: DOUBT says “But what if you can’t?” I say “No I can!!”
I need water. Genaro provides water.
“I feel like I am going to vomit, but I am not a vomitter…If I feel like I need to vomit, I usually have to make myself vomit”
Labor on the Toilet, pee freely.
Contraction: “Okay I'm going to vomit, I need the bucket” The bucket is disgusting…it’s from the garden and has dirt caked in it…”I can’t use this bucket” Vomit on the bathroom rug instead. 4 times…there goes the miso soup.
Okay I feel better. Labor has shifted now. Much more intense.
Contraction: Rocking on my hands and knees. Or Draped over the ball while it was on the bed and I am standing. Keep moving through the contractions. We won’t get stuck.
Okay contraction….This is hard. Can I do this? I don't think I can do this.
I want to be checked. I am 3 cm…but my cervix is soft and can be opened to 6 cm or so.
Okay back to laboring…On the toilet…then I vomit again…now in the bed. Coconut water. Peeing, Needing to poo…blood on the tissue every time I wipe.
Doubt “YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO DO THIS. “ THIS IS TAKING TOO LONG. EVERYONE THINKS SO.” But I keep on moving through it…
Contraction...Genaro is playing guitar quietly...kisses me sweetly in between contractions.
Brush doubt aside. Muttering “thank you thank you thank you.” “I do this with ease” “My body and my baby work together to create harmonious birth.” “My body is healthy” “My pelvis is open” Mutter anything, ANYTHING to get through the contractions.
Next contraction I am crying…I can’t do this. “How long will this take?” I ask. “As long as it takes” says Ellen.
Someone suggests I lay on my side and try to sleep between contractions, to my surprise, I am able to. I pass out for however long…a minute? but enough to feel a little bit of rest… and then wake to a contraction and moan or mutter and then go back to resting.
I do the same thing as I straddle the toilet backwards with a pillow on the back of the tank. This was by far the most comfortable position I was in the whole time.
Doubt again says “no way no way no way. You can’t do this.” I brush him aside and keep moving forward. I imagine getting in the car to go to the hospital…I have hated riding in the car this whole pregnancy. The idea of putting myself in the car does not compute. Sorry Doubt get out.
I move on.
I get angry, I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to give up. I have had enough. My back hurts. My hips hurt. This sucks. I want my baby, but I don't want to work this hard. Ugh.
I want to be checked again…I have not opened any more. I am discouraged. I say so. I get back in the tub. I cry. I can’t do this. My doubt is right and convinces me, for no good reason that I need to go to the hospital. I say this out loud. Karlon says “Vicki, if you go to the hospital you still have to have the baby.”
Now I imagine the flouresent lights of the hallway of the hospital. I realize I can go if I want to. I don’t want to. I want my baby. Right! Okay, back to the laboring then.
Now I mutter through contractions “Oh baby.” “I want my baby” “My baby knows what to do”
I vomit more, I cry more. I moan more. I sleep more. The night is passing, I must be taking too long. I am angry. Then I am calm.
She checks me again. 9 and a half centimeters. I can start pushing. I reach up inside and feel a bubble that is the bag of waters. Now I concentrate on trying to push the baby though and break the bag. 2 hours go by, the back up midwife shows up…bright eyed. Day is coming. This is taking too long. I get back in the tub.
I began to feel my momma. I miss my momma. I realize maybe I judged her too harshly and that she is in the otherworld and I won’t get to be a good momma because it was so hard with her and I think maybe my baby won’t come because of this and I start to cry and for a moment I feel stuck. As ridiculous as it sounded I said some of this out loud and I opened my eyes and there were all these women and the man I love sitting around me holding vigil. Not saying anything. Not being impatient. Just waiting and supporting. There is no more music playing. Just three strong women and my man and no one feels sorry for me. They all believe I can do this even with all the doubt. The water feels cold. I get out.
I want to go outside. I go outside. Contraction…I squat and pee on the ground. I ask the midwives to break my water, she says “Why? So that we can speed it up?” I think “um Obviously."
Some time passes, my contractions slow to a crawl. I can’t break through the bag. The baby is not moving down. The water is not breaking. I am not having any more effective contractions. Ellen says they will break the water, now. I am momentarily scared.
“Will it will hurt more?” I ask. Kristina says the contractions will get more intense and “Are you ready to meet you baby?”
I am.
They break my waters….a gush of warm liquid, a release. Pressure has eased and now…a new kind of pressure. An intense this-is-really-happening kind of pressure. Now I feel I can move the baby down. Now I am really having this baby.
I squat and push and grunt. The ladies say “It’s like having a bowel movement” “Use all your energy to push down” “Don’t make noise” “Use that energy” “Good” You are doing it”
It hurts. "Push through that pain." "Get past it" They say.
I am squatting very low to the ground that Ellen fears the baby will hit the ground. She suggests I use the birth stool. She and Genaro are underneath me, wiping and massaging my perenium. It is at this point that I can connect with my child and I tell my body and the baby that we have only 5 more contractions more. This baby is coming out. There is no time to adjust to a new position…I begin to half squat while holding on to the edge of the bed. And I am getting 3 pushes out of every contraction. And he is at the opening. They put a mirror under me. Do I want to feel his head? NO. I don’t want to feel it, I want to have this baby.
I can feel him with each push, come to the edge of me, opening me and when the contraction passes I can feel him go back in. And it is the strangest sensation, my hips are wide and full and he is not quite out. Later I am told this is good, so that I do not tear. I do not want to tear.
Everytime I push I open just a little more. I can feel the head just a little more and every time he goes back in. There is no pain anymore, only sheer determination and desire for the release I heard comes after birth. I feel only sensation, I know that we are so near to completion.
One more contraction…somehow I know this is the last one…no more after this. I get my three good pushes, baby is not out, contraction has past, but I am not taking this baby back into my body. I push one more time with a grunt but without a contraction and his head is out. Then his body slithers out after and he is in my arms. I am sitting on the edge of the bed, sweaty, and exhausted and in awe of life. Genaro is crying. The baby is screaming. All the ladies are making sounds of joy and encouragement and love. I look and see that he is a boy. I knew it.
The release has come. I am elated and tired. The placenta follows with a good deal of blood. I am given an anti-hemorrage medication. Genaro cuts the cord. The baby is still screaming. He had good healthy lungs. I sing in his ear and he quiets immediately. I am so very much in love.
All the time the doubt never truly left completely. It kept popping it's head in like a nosy neighbor who may or may not have some good advice. And as well meaning as it might have been, I was not interested in his advice. I don't think anything would have made birth easier. It is what it is, and birth is a challenging incredible awesome thing. Once you are on the path, you are on the path. I look back now and I am so proud of what we did. That I kept sweeping that doubt away and that I kept myself focused on the release and empowerment I was seeking.
And my baby. I am so proud of my baby.
