birth story

Hey mamas, this is lengthy but I just finished it from the rough draft I wrote shortly after my baby was born, thought I'd post it to anyone who is interested.
Labor started Friday morning, while I was sleeping. I got up around 7 and told Tom I was having contractions, but nothing too regular or serious yet. I knew it would still be a while. Tom decided to go to work, and I hung out most of the day having some contractions. Friday night Tom went to his meeting. Same thing, contractions on and off. Friday night while I slept, I had contractions wake me through the night—they were pretty intense. After a while I got up and slept on the couch…seemed to be a little easier to wake for the rushes and then go back to sleep. Saturday same thing…on and off. Tom had things to do and I kept myself busy too. I straightened up the house and made any last minute preparations I could think of. I made a giant stew for the birth team and for myself for the coming days. Tom and I spent the evening together. On and off I would have contractions which were steady and we would think, is this it? Still would have been a 20 hour labor probably—they were only 40 seconds long. But they would end up tapering off for a few hours, so we knew it was still just warm up labor. We decided to go out to dinner one last time. We sat in Chevy’s and timed my contractions while we ate veggie fajitas. They were coming every seven minutes I think. We went to Marlene’s to stock up on a few things and one of the girls who worked there whispered something to you, urging you to come and be born. Saturday night while I slept (or tried to) I started having contractions that really rocked my world…I remember waking up and having the feeling of just being a floating body, not knowing where I was in our home…pain that kind of overtakes you. I tried to relax through them, remembering my training, but it was so difficult. I would tense up in the middle, feeling I needed to brace myself against the pain. It was very hard, and I wondered what I was facing. I needed to try to sleep, especially if birth was impending.
I woke Tom up early Sunday, telling him I needed him. He made us oatmeal for breakfast. I told him to make me a large portion, but then I could barely eat. This lack of appetite would continue for the rest of the day. In between rushes labor felt a little like having the flu. Tom started working through the contractions with me; talking to me, helping me relax, and helping to physically support me in certain positions. He helped me take a shower and get ready for our biggest day. We had already been in contact with Dawn and Amy. Amy had come out and checked me at around 10:30. I was concerned about the baby a little, wanted to hear her heartbeat, and wanted to know if I was dilated. I was about 2 centimeters dilated and fully effaced.
There is a very surreal quality to all of this. I felt on Sunday kind of the same as I had on Friday and Saturday. It was hard to believe this would really be the day. Even up to the pushing stage part of me felt my baby’s birth couldn’t take place for a long time.
At some point (noon?) Tom said he thought it was time to call Katrina. I wasn’t sure, but followed his advice. It turned out to be perfect timing. Katrina arrived hours later, excited. My contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart I think, and one minute long. After Katrina arrived Tom straightened up the house and took a little power nap. Katrina rubbed my back and feet between contractions, until the stimulation and contractions were too much. I called Dawn and Amy and asked if I could get in the pool. “Sure� they said and they were on their way. I still felt I was getting everyone there too early…not realizing how well labor was truly progressing. Time seems different when you are in labor…subjective…malleable. I think even in labor it was hard to accept that I would actually be giving birth. We all just hung out for a while. I got out of the tub briefly when Dawn and Amy arrived, but quickly realized that was not the thing to do. It was so much easier to move and to relax in the warm water. The atmosphere was very mellow. The animals, especially Feather and Gypsy, hung out, watching calmly. In my memory, everyone is just laying around relaxing, whispering quietly to each other occasionally. But I know they were also attending to my every need, keeping me quenched with Emergen-C in between contractions, feeding me honey straws, wiping my head with a cool cloth, feeding me a smoothy, then helping me later when I knew I was going to throw it up. At some point, when I’d been in the pool awhile, my contractions were so hard and overwhelming, it was scary. Scary that I couldn’t stop the process, scary that I would actually be passing this baby through my yoni, scary that I thought that as each contraction passed the next would only be sooner and harder. Especially the part about actually having you come through the birth canal. I just wasn’t sure. I guess this was transition. Tom later equated my feelings to having jumped off a cliff, and knowing you were going to hit the ground, but being unable to stop it. This analogy seems very apt. I knew the best way to deal with this fear was to express it. I started to cry a little and told Tom I was nervous in a whisper. I cried a little just to him, then I turned and told the room that I was scared, that I couldn’t believe this baby, still “it�, was going to come out of my vagina. Everyone reassured me, and I tried to let my tears and fear happen, then pass. I thought about the positive experiences I had heard about. I visualized certain photos and videos I had seen of women smiling (or at least surviving!) in the moments where their babies heads were coming into the world and tried to connect to that energy and draw strength and confidence from it, recapture my whole hearted belief that birthing my baby is something I could, would, and should do. I looked to Dawn and asked her to tell me her daughter Ava’s birth story. She began at the beginning. She would stop during my contractions, and after the first one I looked back to her, telling her to go on with my eyes. When she got to the part about pushing she came to the edge of the tub and finished her story. Her eyes, her voice and her story assured me that I could do that part, that it is empowering and magical and incredible. We looked deeply at each other. I was letting go, trying to surrender to each contraction, surrender to the forces overtaking me. I also tried to rest between each contraction, letting go, using the break. Tom helped with this. Through out the whole experience he helped me. I needed his presence and his voice, I needed to be able to stare into his eyes. He never quit encouraging me, supporting me, guiding me, reminding me that I could do it, that we’d have a baby soon. It made me fall so much more in love with him. I know that the quality of our bond changed, grew and solidified.
Time and the order of events are somewhat lost to me, but I remember one point in the birth that was significant and profound to me. We were listening to Enya , I was not singing along but at this moment I did very quietly sung with her “…I am lost …in oceans of light…� and as I said it the rush that overcame me shuddered my body and insides, much like the ones which were to follow. It was like an energy came through and over me. The forces and power of labor and nature are immense and powerful. I definitely felt touched by the hand of God. I had one contraction up on my knees and my body and abdomen squeezed and pushed. It took me by surprise! I said "guys, my body just pushed". "That’s okay, you’re ready to push" said Dawn and Amy. So it was time…time to push. I told Tom to come into the pool, and as the contractions came I would push. It was nothing like I thought it would be. It was weird and scary to feel the baby lowering and lowering. I think in some ways it was less painful over all than the passive contractions had been, but the feelings in my vagina were so detailed and intense as the baby lowered inch by inch. First the bag of waters bulged out of me. I could feel it, a weird bubble. I both wanted the head to come and didn’t. But steadily, each rush brought Zarina closer to the outside world. When she began to crown, I touched her head and was surprised at the sharp ridge it formed! Tom was blessedly behind and under me, creating kind of a perfect birthing stool. This enabled me to assume a good position for pushing and then fall back into him and relax deeply between rushes. I could always feel just where she was though…a strange feeling. Amy began showing us our progress with a mirror…Amazing! As her head crowned, my water broke, a milky white sea creature slowly drifting out of me. It was completely overwhelming. At first it hurt the bottom of my perineum. I used my hand to apply pressure, feeling that I was holding myself together. As she came out more it hurt toward the top. This was scary, as I did not want to damage my clit!! My arm was tired but I could not let go of the area. I just kept working, both knowing and still not believing that I would have my baby soon. I briefly experienced the “ring of fire� as the biggest part of Zarina’s head came through. I knew I needed not to force the process. Suddenly her head slid out! I was so relieved. I knew the hard part was over. Dawn and Amy told me to wait till the next rush to push her out, but I already knew. They told me they needed to make sure the cord was not wrapped around her neck, then told me it wasn’t. I don’t know how long it took between those two contractions…but in an instant and an eternity my beautiful baby slipped into the world.
Amy caught Zarina and put her immediately to my chest while Dawn covered her in blankets. This moment was so amazing…so hard to believe or comprehend. I still didn’t know if I had had a boy or a girl (though in my heart I knew, just as I had known for weeks which day she would be born.) I remember feeling a little intimidated and unsure at how to move her. I started to feel for her gender and eventually had to look. "It’s a girl" I said, so pleased. We stayed like that for a while. She cried pitifully when she was born, wrenching my heart already. She was telling her birth story, I suppose. She was beautiful, pink and awake, a hairy little head not misshapen from birth at all. I tried to help her nurse. We stayed like that, all three of us, until I passed my placenta. The cord was thin and pale, sucked dry, by the time Tom cut it.
Having her at home was so wonderful. We held her and cuddled her skin to skin for a long time without interference. This was so important to me…that her first hours and first experiences out of the womb be filled with love and gentle touch. Be spent in her parent’s arms instead of on tables, under lamps, being poked, prodded and scrubbed.
I love Dawn and Amy for the part they played in this birth. No orders, no force, no stress, just loving support. They hung out, layed on the floor, watched. At times they stroked my head, gave me water, soothed and encouraged me. It was wonderful to have attendants who were so trusting of the birthing process. Who could just let it be.
They stayed for several hours, and helped get Tom, Zarina and me into bed. I lay there in bed, amazed. I had to keep a soft light on so I could see my beautiful baby. Keep my eyes, which had waited so long to see her, on her. I spooned her close through the whole night, in awe.