Gentle Birth

For nine months, I did the pregnancy in my own way. I took a very “this is mine, everyone else can eff off” approach to it. It sounds very selfish, but *I* wanted to get pregnant, carried her in my own natural way, went to the midwife that I was most comfortable with, and even selected the type of birth I wanted and paid quite a bit of money for the chance. (What I wouldn’t give for a birthing center in our area! Why are our options so horribly limited?)

What is crazy is all I want is everyone to go away and leave me alone to have a sacred, quiet space. That doesn’t sound like a lot to me…but as I found out, it seems damn near impossible to have happen. It’s a different story, but I will say, I was nearing the end of the time, walking laps outside, crying the ugly tears in the rain, cursing everything that exists that I was three days overdue, tired, hurting, upset, and just.plain.done. and add to that the need to still protect my space…It was one of those nights that epitomizes “The Dark Night of the Soul.”

The waiting, the uncertainty, being on a timeline, spending second after second for two weeks wondering “is this it?” It was enough to shake my sanity and my dear husband had to sit up with me in the middle of the night, watching “Extreme Couponing”, to keep depression at bay. And then, Sunday, the cloud lifted. No one was coming to town, it was sun-shiny and gorgeous and I sat outside for hours, just basking. I came to peace with still being pregnant and remembered that my body will do things at the right time for the best outcome. And if it didn’t, we have the technology and all will be fine. I was glowing, basking, still completely effing done, but I learned to surrender and trust.

Around 10 pm Sunday night, I was unable to sleep and decided that if I was going to be uncomfortable anyway, I might as well walk. I did laps in my backyard, enjoying the privacy fence, just walking clockwise, then counter-clockwise, back to clockwise…for about an hour. I think the pressure helped jump start things and if nothing else, helped me burn off some steam and get good and relaxed and even sleepy. About an hour later, I decide to get in bed, just to get right back out and by 12, I start having actual contractions. Because SM missed early labor with both the other kids, I woke him up right from the start to get to experience the uncertainty of “is this it?”

By 1am, I was sure it was. By 1:40, we told the midwife to make her way here. By 2am, I needed help with the contractions and SM was pressing on my back and things were picking up. People started arriving and I was still having strong/weak/weak contractions with breaks in between. Within an hour (3am) the pattern changed and I was needing help with every contraction and starting to fight my way through them. I was breathing heavy, moaning, etc. Although it worked, and I was *making* it through, it was awful and painful and, well, everything they say “labor” is supposed to be. It was hell.

Everyone was here, everything was set up, things were quiet and settling down, except for during the contractions. My dear friend, Anna, was pressing her fully-certified massage therapist hands on my back during contractions and it was becoming unbearable anyway. I asked the midwife to check me and I was at about 5 cm. I was glad things were happening, but *hating* how much longer I knew I was going to have to do this. The midwife said the tub was ready and that I could give that a try. Once it was decided SM was going to join me, to press on my back, we climbed in.

The difference was immediate. I relaxed in the warmth, rested my head, and started to feel slightly positive about it all again. We fought through a few more contractions, but they were slower in between. I remember asking the midwife about it and she said to enjoy the break while I can and that they’ll pick back up soon. So I had some water and a snack, cheered the break, and breathed for a few minutes. I felt *good* again, if only until the next contraction…a little while later...maybe 10 contractions, I had a thought that would change everything.

                What if I don’t fight it? What if I go against everything I’ve ever known and just LET IT HURT?

So I decided to try an experiment. On the next contraction, instead of moaning and moving and getting through, I was just going to *try* to relax and let it hurt and see what would happen. The experiment was amazing. I felt the contraction coming on, felt the hurt and what I would usually call “pain” and just LET it hurt. I quit calling it “pain” and instead encouraged it to be strong and do what it needed to do.

In that moment, the whole experience changed. I was able to breathe through it, feel it, acknowledge it’s hurt, and just Let it.  I had a contraction, without making a sound. I went from fighting to allowing, and when it was over, I was in awe. I told my best friend, Alice, that I had just had a contraction and I don’t know what the hell just happened, but I’m going to try to do it again. Sure enough, I made it through another four or five that way, and although it was hard concentrating, hurt like hell, and was physically intense, I learned to surrender and came through each one relaxed and calm.

For the next 2-3 hours, I rode the contractions, letting them hurt. How odd to not let someone know when they’re coming. How odd to simply breathe and be without making a production of it, sometimes without even making a sound. Yet the contractions were more productive and still at about 4 min. apart.

It was completely quiet. I could hear the crickets in the back yard. Even through the contractions. Quiet. Calm. Peace.

SM was gently rubbing my back, pouring water on my shoulders, helping me stay relaxed. Alice was sitting near my head, keeping me grounded, calm, focused, energetically present, validating my experience. Anna was putting hot towels on my back, keeping me physically relaxed, the assistant was occasionally checking the heartbeat, and the midwife was asleep on the couch.

Yep, you read that right. It was so quiet that she fell asleep. Now, don’t go getting upset at her or thinking she was not doing her job. I was quite happy to have her stay out of the way and let me do my thing…plus, she had just gotten done with a 2.5 DAY marathon birth and was only home for a few hours before getting my call. All was well.

Except that my feet kept falling asleep. So I had to move, and then get back relaxed before the next contraction, then move my feet, etc. Plus, things were really picking up and I was beginning to moan and sway *while* letting it hurt. As I changed positions again (damn feet) SM accidentally moved down while I moved up and “OW! DON’T PUSH! DON’T PUSH! OW!” I was slammed out of relaxation mode and jolted and fought the contraction through. The midwife heard one word: “push”. And bounded faster than lightning to my side only to have SM explain what was going on. The damage was done, my body was jolted into action. Within 3 contractions, I was in transition and shit got real.

I had to bite into the towel to relax below. Stretch the towel with all my might to relax below. Trying not to get loud, trying to breathe, starting to bear down a little. Asked the midwife to check me, 8 cm, fully effaced, head ready. Soon, very soon. I’m not quite sure how many more contractions I went through, but each one was a struggle for release, for surrender. A new headspace, a huge intensity rise, and something doesn’t feel right. I needed to get out of the tub. I don’t know why. Primal urge took over. Get out of the tub. As they got me out of my wet clothes, I looked at the window and saw that the sun was just coming up. Wow. Morning already?

I got on hands and knees in the living room but couldn’t support my weight with my arms. I leaned against Alice’s arms and as she snuggled me, I felt comforted. SM became my table and I reached my arms around his sides and leaned against him, bearing down. I did this about 5 times, these mostly-pushes-but not fully committed. The midwife said I could push, but it didn’t feel right, yet, so I would bear down a little and let up, still in not-knowing-how-to-deal-with-this-pain feeling. I panted through the next contraction and the midwife told me to use that energy to push with instead. My body said it wasn’t time to push, so I didn’t, but instead reached down to feel what was going on. Yep. I touched my vag (what? It’s not like it’s the first time) and there was swollen tissue from where I was overdue with a baby in my pelvis. I pushed the swollen bit out of the way and felt her head slip past and then *boom*, yep, I’m gonna push.

Next contraction, I dug into SM as hard as I could, pushed until it hurt and then more and collapsed when the contraction was over. Then again and the baby came down. Once more and out she came out. The midwife told me to “get your baby” because that’s what women like to do. Not me, I was still in pain, still pushing, leaning in a way that meant there was no way to reach down. So she caught her head and SM caught the baby.

To be honest, I was completely disinterested in the baby. I kept saying “but it still hurts! I’m not done!” and then *whoosh* and fluid came out and then _______________________ . Nothing. Pain over. I reached down and pulled up my baby and held her so close. It was done. It was over. I was holding my baby and it was the most amazing feeling in the world.

She’s calm and gorgeous. I had all the time in the world to nurse her, to hold her, to gently stroke her face. The candles lit, the prayers said, the blessings and poetry. I’m totally in love and not rushing this time at all.

No rips or tears, no pain or complications. Just learning to surrender, learning the amazingness of how birth can be quiet and gentle, even if everything I ever heard or seen says it is impossible. It was beautiful and primal, hard and intense, hurting yet allowing it to hurt. A child born quiet and relaxed, peacefully learning the loving world around her.  Quiet, calm, crickets chirping.

Welcome to this world, Kaeli Alys Wood. I cherish the bond we forged together  through this pregnancy, birth, and babymoon. You are perfect and wonderful, just as you are, I honor you.

8 lb 6 oz, 21 in. long

Born at 7:01 at sunrise. Love.