I’ve tried to write this several times and I can’t stop crying. It is just so big. Bigger than anything I’ve ever attempted to describe. And the story, our story – so different than the one I had thought I’d be telling.
I had my natural birth. I did it. The way I had hoped. The way I had prepared for. My way. And I knew it would be one of the most challenging experiences of my life. Whether or not I succeeded – whether or not something may have occurred that lead us down a different path during his delivery. I chose midwifery care – found a doula for labor support – and became interested in the idea of a waterbirth. I read. I studied. And I found a peace and strength in those preparations that my body COULD DO IT, I just needed to be open to it. And so I did.
I never took any classes but in the last week before I delivered began listening to some of the Hypnobirthing relaxation (meditation) tracks. I knew this wouldn't be enough to give me the ‘zen birth’ of its potential, but I had hoped maybe something would stick and help me get through the contractions.
My labor began the morning of Sunday September 20th. I was 39 weeks and 1 day pregnant. I was having contractions that felt very different than anything Id felt before. There was suddenly a ‘pressure’ sensation that was new. They were roughly 7-9minutes apart for the better part of the morning. I took a bath. I concentrated on breathing. We watched football. I felt in control – but in a bit of denial that maybe it was the real deal. My doula had planned to come for our second consult visit at 2:30pm. By the time she got here I told her I was having fairly regular contractions of about 4-5minutes. She kept saying I was surely in labor – and I really couldn’t believe it. I laughed a lot in between them, made lots of jokes – my clutch coping mechanism. All was good in the hood. She left to go home and get packed…asked us to call her in an hour and report progress.
In an hour the pain was getting more intense and I asked Zack to call her and tell her she needed to come. While waiting for her to get there I started getting antsy and paced the house. Breathing through it – I felt somewhat in control still. I took a shower. I laid down on the bed – and suddenly the contractions slowed. I got up thinking I didn’t want to stall anything and when I did suddenly felt nauseous. Went to the bathroom and sat on the floor with my head hanging over the toilet – laboring the contractions – fully expecting to puke. Zack came and got me up…I walked around some. My doula finally arrived and I was really thinking it was time for us to go the hospital.
The plan all along had been that we would stay at home for as long as possible. I was thinking I had made enough progress at this point to go and not be sent home. Zack and my doula Rachael both encouraged me to just hang out longer. Take another shower, or lay down. This made me panicky. But I laid down again to try and get some rest. Didn’t work, the contractions were getting more intense and so was the nausea. After some back and forth about the potential consequences of getting to the hospital too early – they knew I was not having it. Time to go. It was about 8pm.
The contractions were coming every 3-4 minutes. The pressure getting more intense. We grabbed a bowl for the ride and hopped in the car. I laid down on Rachael's lap in the backseat and about 2 minutes into our drive realized I didn’t have my purse with my IDs in it. Fuck. We all debated what to do and decided to pull over as I was having a contraction and also decided it was time to puke. Got out of the car and horked up some Publix mixed fruit pieces all over the parking lot, while having that contraction (good times) – Zack hopped a fence that conveniently backed up to our house where he could run and get the ID.
The ride to the hospital was shitty but bearable. I was beginning to fade into that abyss I’d read so much about – where the rest of the world is just sorta…there. The amount of concentration I needed was so intense.
We got me up to a room and they put me on a monitor to be sure the baby was doing okay. They wanted to check me – and I was really afraid of that. I wanted my midwife to do it – and she was still on her way to the hospital. I finally let a nurse check me. I was so surprised to find that it did not hurt at all. I was 6-7 centimeters dilated and 80% effaced. Boo-yah! I felt like a badass. But only long enough for the next contraction to come and I was slapped back into hell.
My midwife arrived – and after enough time had passed with me on the fetal monitor they began to prep my room and fill the tub. The room was big and we had a huge view of downtown Atlanta – it was beautiful. I made a small mental note – but really wasn’t interested in anything but breathing. Got in the tub and then this is when the bidness really went down. It must have been around 9pm or so at this point.
I began falling apart around this time. My breathing got shorter and heavier. I began to moan and make noises. I changed positions constantly but every way I found myself – just hurt like hell. The pressure was so intense, unlike anything I can describe. But it wasn’t the ‘I have to take a shit’ pressure I was waiting for. The pain of the contractions began to radiate in my upper thighs. It was horrible. I was miserable. I was not coping well. But I never asked for pain relief. I knew that wasn’t happening. I just had to hang in there. I did however beg on several occasions for them to just reach in there and pull him out.
His heart rate was checked several times – and he was doing well. After a few hours I asked to be checked. I was ready to be done. I never felt the urge to ‘push’ though. It just never came. She checked me and I was almost fully dilated with the exception of a small lip. The next contraction I puked again. That was exciting. Not.
The midwife had said the ‘lip’ was probably gone after all the heaving. No one ever really coached me about what to do. And I kept expecting to get directions. So I started asking for them. They just said to push if I felt like it. So I just gave it a whirl. It sucked. The pain of bearing down on top of the contraction felt too immense and left me practically convulsing every time. I begged to be told that I was crowing…that they all could see/feel his head…because to me, it still felt like he was way up in there and I would die before he could ever get out. I didn’t care if they had to lie to me. I just felt like I was making no progress. I was so frightened of every ‘next’ contraction.
So I pushed. Three times I am told. Felt like 300. In three pushes he was out. Those three pushes were so out of this world – there are no words. NONE. It was like an atomic bomb exploding in my body – the power was unreal. They all (2 midwives, a nurse, zack, and my doula) were hovered around me in the pool yelling and rooting me on. I was on my back and had asked for help getting my legs pulled back – I felt like I needed the damn Jaws of Life to get this child out of me. Apparently I was supposed to be doing ab-like crunches and that didn’t feel so great. My water finally broke on the first go. And in the second I just thought I would die – he started to come out but then my contraction petered out and so did he. Back in. On the third – his head was out and then body jettisoned quickly after. It was just before 1am.
I felt no ring of fire. It didn’t hurt like that. It did however feel like there was NO WAY IN HELL that baby was going to come out. Literally it FELT like a watermelon being forced to come out my butt. I screamed like a mad woman. I thought I was just done for.
And there he was. ‘Look, look! Look at your baby!’ everyone yelled. My eyes had been shut almost the entire time I labored in that pool. I was petrified. I finally looked – and there he was. It was unbelievable.
Total shock. This moment is so forever etched in my body – it leaves me speechless.
He was beautiful. So little. So alert. Skin so beautiful. It was a miracle. His being here now – that he came out of my body and is this little person – just overwhelms me with such emotion. I can not imagine anything greater in this world. There is something cosmic…an enigma – SOMETHING HUGE – that brings life into being this way. I had no idea. I knew nothing.
The adrenalin going through my body at the time of his delivery – and ever since – has been incredible. I have been so overwhelmed with emotion. That he exists. That I did this THING, that my body did it – that I survived – that we both made it out the other end for each other – that my life has changed forever because of this baby. It’s intense. How I feel about him is SO intense. It’s unbelievable. It HAS TO BE the most meaningful thing I will ever have done. It just blows my mind.
So anyway…I got out of the pool – and on to a table where the midwife gave a few gentle tugs at my cord and I delivered the placenta easily. She gave us a little show and tell and we looked at it – amazing. I had a few small 1st degree tears and was stitched. Easy breezy (Cover Girl). I was so amped – someone could have pulled off all my finger nails at that point and I wouldn’t have given a shit. She massaged my uterus and everything was good to go. We were all moved to our room. Life is beautiful. And yes – I have found my Zen.
It has been 5 days now. I am recovering really well. I am getting around pretty good and haven’t had much soreness or bleeding at all. It does however totally feel like you are walking around 10cms and your entire guts are just going to fall out of your body at any moment. But whatever. I swore up and down after he came out and for the next 24hours that I would never in my life have another child come out my vagina. No way. And fuck ‘natural birthing’. Over-RATED. What the HELL was I thinking? We would adopt. Or this could just be our Golden Child. But of course, the fear of those minutes – has already begun to fade. Pretty wild how that happens. And I am left feeling pretty damn indestructible, and with the greatest gift in the world – a very easy, very calm little boy named Oban.
