If only we could write
our birth stories before the birth, you know, back when we had time for such frivolities
as writing. But since that’s impossible,
here I am, nearly a year post-birth, finally writing about it.
Where does this birth
story begin? When I first found out I
was pregnant? When I told my partner and
his bliss met my nervousness? When I
first felt like something was wrong? When I began to weep at the absence of signs? Was it the morning my partner left for work,
and my body took over and sent me into the painful labor and delivery of what
had been gestating only nine weeks? Or
maybe my birth story began as the following months of hormonal overdrive
shifted to real acceptance of life and how it only moves on. Of going to my partner with joy again. Maybe it was the moment I found faith in my
body, and my cycle returned. Or two
weeks later when I felt implantation and soon became overjoyed with nausea. Maybe it was our wedding day, when we announced
our new pregnancy to everyone we loved.
Or maybe it began
with the first contraction. Despite
reading hundreds of birth stories, I remained oblivious to the obvious once it
was happening to me. I enjoyed the
feeling of what I thought was the baby arching over like a cat, stretching his
back against my belly and hands and feet against my spine.
My sweet midwife,
Aundria, came over for a prenatal visit on a Wednesday afternoon 11 days before
my due date. With her hands on my enormous
belly she said, “Well I can’t very well palpate you while you’re having a
contraction,” with a great knowing grin.
“Oh that’s a contraction?! Ha!
Well then yea, I’ve been having lots of those lately.” She prescribed massage, chiropractic, yoga,
whatever, as she noticed a hair more swelling than she’d prefer. She told my ma a good Epsom salt foot soak
and rub would do me good too. And after
my pee stick she said, “Now don’t get too excited, but there’s a bit of blood
so things are definitely moving along.”
My ma followed the
midwife’s orders, and I made an appointment for a massage the next morning. That evening my mom made the best fettuccine
alfredo I have ever had and I giggled and shared every time I had a contraction. As exhausted Josh fell into bed I sat beside
him, “Look! Another one! Wow you can really see and feel it tightening!” He humored me and felt my belly and looked at
me with that classic look of his, meaning, that is super amazing, and
completely weird. I may have laid down
for awhile, but couldn’t sleep. I knew I
must be over thinking the contractions due to the new knowledge that they were
actually contractions, but they just kept coming. “Start
doing something else” our birth instructor’s voice said in my head and see if
they change, or stop. I got up and watched
some silly shows online and they kept coming. I meandered around the house,
futsed with stuff, and watched some more. I decided this was really happening, I was in
labor, and the birthing tub was not ready. I vividly remember being huge and squatting
around the trough, tearing off some duct tape with my teeth and thinking it was
all very funny while having another contraction.
I knew I needed to
get rest while I still could and got into bed. Sometime later, I don’t remember if I actually
fell asleep, I was beginning to have more intense contractions and it woke Josh
around 1am. He asked me some version of
“Are you in labor?” And I responded with
some version of yes. We timed them here
and there, and called Aundria around 4:30am.
She talked to me and Josh and basically said to keep doing what we were
doing and she’d be there in a few hours. Josh made plans to go to school to drop off
stuff for a sub and my mom woke up and got other things ready. She made oatmeal and I managed to eat a fair
bit between contractions. At 7:45 my
water broke in bed and by this point I was focused on breathing and moving though
each contraction and nothing else. Somewhere
in there I spent a long time in the shower.
Contractions were still not very regular, and my water broke a few more
times in the bathroom.
Aundria arrived at
8:45, we listened to the baby, and she listened to me. I threw up and it was all very intense and
transition-like. At 9:45 she checked me
and I was dilated 2cm. She was
encouraging, and said this was probably still early in labor, told us to rest
when possible, and call her with updates and she departed soon after. Somewhere in there Jessica, our good friend
and doula, arrived with amazing labor tea. Despite her and my mother’s wonderful presence,
I really only wanted Josh through most of the labor. I wanted surprisingly light touch, and just
him and nearby sturdy furniture to hold as a base as I danced through each contraction.
Jessica and my ma
went out for coffee, and Josh remained at my side as I labored. I got overwhelmed at times and wept. I remembered the birth stories I’d read and
how they described labor as this high, out-of body- like experience. I felt none of that, and in the moment I was
looking for it, but instead I felt so fucking present it was nearly unbearable.
I’d never been so severely planted on
earth. There was no way out but through
and through was clear and real and HARD.
Jessica kept me
hydrated and carefully offered suggestions like walking more and changing
positions, despite my less than enthusiastic cooperation. Recognizing exhaustion beginning to set in
they all managed to support me kneeling and resting on the birthing ball-that
point in labor where you really can sleep between contractions. At 1pm they filled the tub, and I wanted in. Getting in the tub too soon can stall labor,
so I wasn’t really supposed to get in before Aundria got back and we could
reassess where we were at. But at 2 I
was over what I’d been doing and got in. It seemed like I was in the tub for a long
time and the contractions kept coming. They
were amazingly painful and the water wasn’t lessening the intensity like I’d
hoped, but it was still somehow better and I stayed. At 2:15 I puked some more, and began weeping
again. It just hurt too much and I felt
myself losing confidence and dipping into self-pity. They called the midwife again around then for
her to return soon.
Thinking I was
moving into another long stage of labor and wanting to give Josh and I some
more time alone, my doula and mom got their shoes on to go for a walk. One of them, I can’t even remember which, knelt beside me and explained what they were
going to do and all of a sudden I leapt half out of the water and said “I’m
pushing!!” What an incredible, undeniable
force! 2:35pm and suddenly it was go
time. I hollered for Aundria to return
and focused hard on my breath and Ina May’s horse lips. I didn’t stop my body from pushing but was
able to ease the pressure ever so slightly through my breath. It felt like leaping up with a big wave in the
ocean to ride with it, because you know if try to stand firm you will only be
smashed down into the ground. The ocean,
like the uterus, is a strong force that is better to work with than
against.
The horse lips soon
became very loud vocalizations and I could not ease the force of pushing any
longer. After what felt like a huge one I
yelled that it was coming out and to put it back in because the midwife wasn’t
here yet! They said it wasn’t out yet,
and that she’d be here any moment. I was
so sure something was out and my body kept pushing. I saw Aundria run in and barely set things
down before she was in front of me and said something about my having a
beautiful labor song, and then her hand was in the water and I was yelling and
pushing. I could hear Jessica’s voice
and feel Josh and my mom around me. I could
see Josh’s eyes widen with surprise, and they told me to look down because it
was coming out and I said I didn’t want to, just get it out! And then, it was. Little arms and fingers outstretched toward
the surface of the water, and then up, low on my chest as our cord was short-was
a baby. My baby, our baby. It was 3pm.
Jessica excitedly blurted
out that it was a little boy. The
moments after he came out and became a part of life outside my body are the
most difficult to remember clearly, or describe with words that could do them
justice. There was awe. There was complete, true love, but it wasn’t
as surprising as I’d expected, just natural. Mostly I felt quiet; I’d been one person for
28 years, then I became host to another, and now became a new individual person,
a mother. A mother to this beautiful
boy. Wonky-shaped head, smears of blood
and vernix, swollen deep eyes, a few soft first wails of life, and his
skin. Quiviut, the down of the musk ox, is
the softest, lightest and warmest fiber in the world, or was until I felt the
delicate softness of his newborn skin.
The second midwife arrived and they helped me waddle to the bedroom, and onto the bed where I birthed
the placenta and soon they cut the cord. He latched on for the first time (our rough
breastfeeding journey is another chapter altogether), Josh’s mom arrived (she
was meant to be at the birth as well but we called her too late) and Josh
walked around for some skin to skin with his son. Aundria did a most adorable newborn exam, and
we reveled in the presence of perfection-a totally new human being.
It turns out he had
a nuchal fist, which Aundria recognized when she arrived, and when she plunged
her hand into the water it was to push that fist back in to allow his head to
come out. I still tore a bit, but not
near as much as if she hadn’t arrived when she did and I’d had to birth a head
and fist at the same time. A nuchal fist
can cause you to dilate less evenly, explaining why my contractions never
became very regular. It’s also quite
possible that the transition-y feeling time I’d had in the morning would have
been the hour of his birth, had that fist not stalled things. Aundria recommended I call her at the same
point in early labor next time because it will likely be a fast one.
My mom made a
delicious post-birth platter that I totally devoured (birth makes you ravenous,
especially with all that newly free space) and a meal for the whole incredible
team. I fell into the deepest, most
blissful nap and woke smiling, remembering I had my son on my chest and my dear
husband at my side. It was late afternoon
Thursday, March 13th, 2014. Two
days later we named him Eldon Michael Frederick, our sweet rainbow baby. And
the love just continues to multiply.