baby

The full moon was Saturday night and for the last few months, I had almost convinced myself that August would be born that night. Almost. I did wake up early that night with some light contractions - they began as a warm sensations in my low back that would wrap around my waist, like a belt, and meet in my lower abdomen, where they would continue to radiate warmth for several more seconds before dissipating. Although they were consistent and went on for several hours, the contractions finally tapered off early morning and I was eventually able to get some sleep. I knew then though, that August’s birth was right around the corner.

The next night I woke up around one a.m. with mild contractions again but they were different from the night before - they didn’t radiate from back to front like the others and were instead concentrated in my low gut. I knew in my heart and body that this was it. I didn’t wake Andy so as to let him sleep and get the rest he would need for the day that lay ahead. So I managed early labor on my own, timing the contractions, using relaxation and breathing techniques to get through the discomfort. The contractions were consistently 45-60 seconds in duration and 7-8 minutes apart.

By five a.m. I was restless and finally decided to get out of bed and draw a bath - it was something to do and a welcome distraction. While the water ran, I puttered around the house and began gathering things. All the commotion woke Andy and Claudin, who had come up from Raleigh with Ada. They asked if everything was OK and I told them that I had been experiencing early labor contractions for most the night. Claudin helped me get thing together while Andy began to make calls. He first contacted Birth Care and learned that Julia would be the attending midwife. Although I had met with and liked all the midwives in the practice, Julia was the one I had met with the most and was therefor most familiar with - it was welcome news that she was coming. Next, Andy contacted Birth Partners, the birth assistant group that would help the midwife. Lori was on call that day but was sick so she made arrangements for her partner, Mary Beth, to come instead. We had only briefly met her once before, but again, I was comfortable with and liked all the women in their group. Both calls were made as alerts only - Andy would call back hours later once I was farther along.

Claudin was wary about me getting in the tub so soon into labor but I really just wanted to relax and it seemed the most appealing. Andy stayed by my side while took turns lying on one side, and then the other. Claudin brought Ada in to the bathroom while she continued to prepare. Music was playing, lavender-scented candles were lit, the lighting was dim, and all was peaceful. The warm bath eased the contractions which weren’t necessarily painful but were becoming tedious Ada’s presence added to the sense of calm, due to her easy-going nature and tranquil demeanor.

I got out of the bath and moved into the living room, where we set out the yoga mat and I moved onto all fours. I tried various others positions including squatting and “dancing” with Andy. The contractions were coming with greater frequency but their duration was shorter, now 30-50 seconds with only 4-5 minutes between.

At this point it was nearly seven o’clock in the morning and we thought it was appropriate to update the birth team on the progress. It was at that point that I moved to the bedroom while Andy

communicated my developments to Julia. To better assess the situation, she asked to speak with me. I took the phone and began to answer some questions she had on what I was feeling but had to quickly give the phone back to Andy when a strong contraction came that required my focus. That communication in itself was apparently enough to confirm that Julia should make her way to our house. She had Mary Beth’s contact information and would coordinate with her so that both would arrive around the same time. The trip was about an hour for Julia so I continued laboring in various positions while Andy & Claudin provided support. Time passed without my knowing it and before long, Julia & Mary Beth had arrived. I was in the bedroom, laboring on the bed on all fours and continued to do so while they unpacked. It was nearly 9:30 and I was going on eight hours of first stage labor.  

When she was all settled, Julia stepped in the room and asked to make an examination to determine how far along I was. Upon her review, she determined that I was fully effaced but only 2cm dilated. My heart sank. I tried not to reveal my disappointment, but inside I felt overwhelmed with despair. I feared that all those hours were for naught and that my tolerance for pain had been overestimated as I already had so much discomfort with still such a long way to go. Julia explained that under usual protocol, the birth team would leave and allow us more time to labor alone, returning once we were further along. I was devastated. My meager attempt to maintain composure must have visibly crumbled because she then offered some hope: many women have been known to progress through labor very quickly and with the consistency and growing intensity of my contractions, I could be one of those women. Music to my ears. She went on in encouragement, explaining that everything I had experienced had produced necessary results - I was fully effaced.  That’s right! It’s not all just about being dilated, I remembered. So, she granted, they would stay would stay another hour to see if things progressed faster. OK Body, I thought, we’ve got some serious work to do.     

It was time to try something new. It was suggested I take a walk, so I went out to the back with Claudin for some slow laps around the yard. The others remained inside tending to their administrative tasks and minding Ada. Now, even though I had read about and been instructed on the efficacy of walking to encourage the progression of labor, I had been avoiding it up to this point. Partly because gravity was no joke and the pressure of being vertical/upright was uncomfortable but now I realize, the other reason was because of fear. Despite my readiness and enthusiasm, I was still afraid of the pain. I recalled one of my favorite quotes from Eleanor Roosevelt who said, “You gain strength, experience, and confidence by every experience where you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you cannot do.” And I knew what needed to be done. Andy and I swayed, slow-dancing until a contraction approached and we would stop so I could either lean on him through the pain or, if we were near it, a tree in our yard that had the perfect stronghold - now affectionately known as the “Birth Tree.” Andy would apply counter pressure to my low back as I hung from the tree and once the rush passed, we’d continue our labor dance. 

After some time, Claudin took over the support and gave Andy a break. We took to walking laps and with the contractions intensifying, I found it most comfortable to hang on to Claudin and lower to a deep squat. Soon enough, things really did escalate and we were halfway through a lap when one particular contraction overwhelmed me. Again I went down into a deep squat, putting all my weight on Claudin and hanging on to her as the rush surged over me. After it passed I rose to find a bloody show beneath me. Claudin saw it too and sharing in my same excitement, heartily praised the milestone. That sight was just what I needed for a second wind. Now, I thought, we’re getting somewhere. Claudin shouted to everyone inside and in the excitement, poor Julia spilled coffee all over herself as she ran to the thresh hold to find out what happened. I didn’t have the energy for words, but I remember trying to signal everyone over to see. I was so proud in the accomplishment and desperate to prove I was advancing. We resumed our walking and on each lap, I eagerly anticipated reaching that spot so that I could look at my achievement - reassurance that my body was working effectively now. 

We made our way back inside and Claudin traded off with Andy to tend to Ada. Again, we slow danced for a bit until it was suggested that I rest, reclined against Andy. Julia and Mary Beth monitored baby’s heartbeat and made an internal exam. There was a small sliver of the cervix still covering the front of baby’s head because I wasn’t fully dilated.  That meant that despite the urge, no pushing was advised. Julia attempted to manually reduce the cervix, but after several efforts we decided to allow it to move on its own.

I went back to supported squatting which was taxing on whoever was the provider so, between Andy and Claudin, they took turns holding me up. There was no talking on my part, except to occasionally instruct the placement of counter pressure. Otherwise, verbal communication was reduced to low moans and deep prolonged grunts. Ada, who had recently developed her own voice, took my sounds as conversation and began responding to my Ayyyyyyyyy with her own Yaaaaaaaa. And then, in unison she would sympathetically bellow with me, Ooooooooo!  Sincere and affable from the day she was born, Ada’s presence was a godsend. If my resolve ever faded in the least, her spirit and vitality nurtured it. Between her and the rest of my support group, I was was able to maintain the energy needed for what yet remained of this birth experience. Mary Beth was diligent in keeping me hydrated and nourished with cherry juice and tablespoons of honey. She also began offering me arnica tablets. The herb has anti-inflammatory properties and both she and Julia feared my bottom was becoming too swollen from all the squatting and pressure. She periodically fed me three at a time which I was to keep under my tongue until they dissolved.

I had finally advanced from first stage of labor to second, as was apparent by my irresistible desire to bear down. We moved to the bedroom where Julia conducted another exam and reports that I am fully dilated but that the bag of waters was still in tact. She asked if I wanted her rupture the membranes, which would accelerate labor. I was really exhausted at that point and despite my original desire to avoid such an augmentation, I felt that this particular method was the least threatening. I knew that once the bag was broken, contractions would kick into high gear but I welcomed the those stronger surges because they would bring my baby closer to birth. With my consent then, Julia began her work, which actually turned out to be something of a challenge since the membrane was very thick. She finally triumphed and a warm gush flowed. Another milestone. Then, as anticipated, they came. Rush after rush, like high-tide with waves crashing relentlessly, practically robbing me of air. Everyone in the room encouraged me to breath and then rest between contractions. But it was so challenging to do both. I only wanted to keep pushing, without respite. My will surpassed my exhaustion. We were so close now and I knew that a good effort on my part would make it all end sooner. 

I established a rhythm: when a contraction came, I would roll to my back, bring my knees to my chest and using my arms to get them as high up and close to my ears as possible. Then, I’d take a deep breath and push with the contraction, stop, then push, stop, then push again. When the rush dissipated, I’d get on my left side for a short break and to catch my breath. This was the most intense and arduous part of labor. My whole body was becoming fatigued and sore. The pain was escalating and I was desperate for it to end. The entire group encouraged me to rest but I had a hard time doing that with the influx of contractions and just wanted to forge ahead. I didn’t want to waste any opportunity each contraction offered. To me, that was to delay the end. The encouragement was great and everyone was so positive in their reinforcement. I knew the difference, though, between half-hearted acclamation and genuine praise. On “good” pushes I’d get an enthusiastic “That’s the way!” from Julia. After a couple of those kind of efforts, Claudin informed me that his head had protruded: “We can see his head. He’s working to get out. You need to help him the rest of the way” she encouraged. I was tired, but the image of that little head, so close to the outside world kept me going. 

We still had some serious work ahead, however, because his head would emerge on the pushes and then retract on the rests. I got some coaching on effective pushing techniques as Julia instructed me to “wrap [myself] around the baby”. On that tip I gave a push that made all the difference. There was an efficacy to it that was missing from the previous ones. Aha! That’s it! I took a rest and on the next contraction attempted to recreate that last effort. But I still didn’t quite have it - it would take me a few pushes to re-figure it out before getting it right and then, sure enough, I’d get the genuine approbation I was looking for. But I was exhausted by that last “good” push and would have to rest and start all over on the next round. This went on for a while before I really got a hang of things. They suggested I reach down and touch his head for inspiration. This was something I originally thought I would want to do, but now presented with the offer, did not.

I didn’t need it. I had my rhythm and had to stay focused. I needed both hands to support my legs and get more good pushes. Besides, I had so much faith in everyone in that room that I knew when progress was made. I trusted the tone of their voices to keep me motivated and tell me everything I needed to know about where we were.

Then, I finally began to feel it: this heat that emanated from deep within, igniting flames with an intensity I’d never felt before. It flared in my soul, as well however, and spoke to me, announcing the beginning of the end. I took a brief rest and on the next attempt, those flames became a fire. Eyes closed, my vision was blinded by white light. I curled my body and pushed with utmost determination. The flames were now a full-on blaze that engulfed by entire body. Despite the intensity, I found a way to push my body beyond the pain. It was the end result that held me accountable: my baby was moments from arriving and I knew it. One final push produced his head, along with his right hand which was pressed firmly by his ear. Another push yielded his torso, followed by his legs and feet.

He was immediately placed on my belly where he remained until the umbilical cord stopped pulsing and Andy was able to cut it. Then, I brought him on my chest and we were both quickly covered with blankets. I couldn’t stop staring at him, incredulous of what had just occurred. I was consumed with so many emotions - mostly of concern. Instinctively, I felt protective. He was wailing so loudly and relentlessly. I wanted nothing more that to make it better. My thoughts were only on him and utterly removed from everything else that went on around me. Everything moved like a dream. My only reality was this slimy, warm, fragile, crying little being, squirming on my chest. So vulnerable, so frightened. I held him close and Andy embraced us both: our first moment as a family. Almost instantaneously August and I both calmed down. We both, I think, felt the love and security of our little unit. No matter what, everything was going to be OK and that’s all that mattered.