Truthfully, there is no way to adequately tell this story. It’s too big, too emotional, too, too…sacred even.
Part of me wants to keep it all to myself. But, in preparing to give birth naturally what kept me focused was reading other women’s birth stories. They inspired me, challenged me, and reminded me that if this woman could do it, then so could I.
And believe me. If I did it, ANY OF YOU could do it. I don’t like pain. I don’t like being uncomfortable or sweating or having my hair messed up. I’m just that kind of girl.
But then, I don’t know…you just make the decision to do it. To walk through the pain and endure and come out the other side. No other options—mind over matter. And when you’ve taken the epidural off the table, then really, it’s okay. You cope. You take one contraction, and then another, and then another, and then you have your baby. And when it’s all said and done you see that it was really not so bad. That you indeed DID NOT DIE, like you once thought you surely would.
Because ultimately, no matter how far down you have to reach inside yourself to find strength, God meets you there with so much grace to overcome that you can hardly stand it. You realize you have no strength at all, really, and that it’s all Him, and it’s a feeling of utter bliss.
Bliss! During labor! It’s true!
And that’s the really beautiful part…the part that makes me all weepy and spiritual and stuff. Labor was an intimate, sacred dance between me and my baby, me and my husband, and me and my Savior. I’m so thankful I experienced a natural birth. What a supreme privilege it was.
And now, the story…
I lingered in early/pre/prodromal labor for several days leading up to my due date, and I was beginning to think my body was never going to kick into active labor. At night, the contractions would get so bad that they woke me up and kept me up for hours, but then they inevitably would fizzle out by morning, leaving me exhausted and frustrated.
On Thursday, August 27th, two days past my due date, I went to a prenatal appointment. I was excited to get checked for dilation because I just knew my body had to be cooperating from all the contractions I’d been having. I was sad to hear, however, that I was only 3 centimeters dilated and 50% effaced. Dana (my midwife) offered to strip my membranes; I gladly let her. Sean and I went home and tried getting our minds off having the baby anytime soon.
That night, the contractions grew more regular and stronger. I was hopeful that perhaps the stripping of the membranes (and a few other tricks we tried at home) were making some changes to my cervix. On Friday morning, I noticed that the contractions were still there, unlike other mornings where they would disappear. Sean was supposed to take Shaylea to art and piano lessons that afternoon, but I told him I thought he should stay close. Something told me that our baby would come soon.
By 4 p.m., the contractions were still regular, at 4-5 minutes apart, and getting uncomfortable at the peak. I was unsure though, of when to call Dana, since I had just seen her the day before. I really didn’t know if I was in labor or my body was playing tricks on me again. At 5 p.m. I decided to call anyway and let her know what was going on. She said it sounded like true labor but to wait and call back in an hour.
I piddled for the hour, finishing up laundry, eating a little dinner, and getting the birth supplies ready, just in case. By 6 p.m., I was still in a good labor pattern, but the contractions weren’t hurting too badly. To me, it was confusing. I expected to be miserable, and that’s how I would know to call. I talked to my friend Michelle, who was planning to come take pictures, and she told me not to wait too long, that one contraction might feel okay but then all of a sudden everything might change in an instant. With that, I called Dana and told her that I was fine and that she should eat dinner first, but it was time to come.
During the wait for Dana, Linsey (the apprentice midwife), and Michelle, Sean set up the birth pool and readied the room. The kids were so excited that they were running through the house yelling, “The baby is coming! The baby is coming!” My mom rubbed my back while Sean was finishing up with the pool, and by 8 p.m., my birth team arrived.
Dana took my temperature, blood pressure, and pulse, and then she checked the baby’s heartbeat and then me for dilation. I was so nervous to hear the news and so afraid I was not really in labor. “You’re six,” she said. My eyes almost popped out of my head. Six—actual labor. Yay! I knew she was staying and that this was really happening. I was ready.
After making sure we were okay, the birth team left me and Sean to labor however we wanted. And what I wanted was to get into water. The water truly eased the intensity of the contractions. I hung out there for a while, and every now and then Dana would come in to check the baby’s heartbeat.
At one point, I started to feel pressure, and so Dana and Linsey came in to watch me for a while to observe how I was laboring.
But, I still had a ways to go, so they again left me and Sean to ourselves.
During contractions Sean would rub my back, pour water on my back, or just hold me and let me moan.
Between contractions, the pain totally disappeared. We would joke and laugh about the birth noises I was making. He said I sounded like Stevie Nicks. I thought I sounded like a goat. We were having a good time together, and I was so glad we could have fun even in labor.
Because I was getting more vocal, Dana wanted me to get out of the water to check me again. I was at 8 centimeters, and this was around 10:00. I was glad to have made progress, but I was terrified of what was coming: transition. I decided to get it over with as soon as possible and labor standing up, to let gravity do the work for me and bring the baby down. Here is where my goat noises turned into full on screams. I would bury my head into the mattress and make deep, low, loud moans. Somehow, getting the energy out made the contractions manageable. If I were not able to make noises, I don’t know if I would have been able to cope. I was really thankful to be at home so I could just do whatever I felt like doing.
One contraction in particular was so powerful it brought me to the floor. Dana got down with me and wanted to check me again. She thought I might be complete.
My friend Michelle was taking all these great pictures, but I realized during the contraction that in all of them you would just see my hair. When the contraction was over, I asked her to take one of me smiling, to prove I was, in fact, normal between contractions and had a face and all.
See? Almost 10 centimeters and smiling!
Not for long though. Sean had to come hold me through a series of very intense contractions.
Dana checked me soon after and said I still had an anterior lip of the cervix in the way. My options were to push against it, risking swelling to the cervix (no thank you), popping the lip out of the way (sounds painful…again, no thank you), or to keep laboring back in the water for a while and hope that it melts away.
I got in the water for a while. I don’t know how long because it was at this point that time began to have no meaning whatsoever. They call it “Laborland,” and I was glad to be there. Being a little out of it helps sometimes, you know? But I kept having the urge to push, and I was getting annoyed of being in the water and just dealing with the contractions. I wanted to DO something.
Dana said it wasn’t time, and she suggested I get out and lay on my left side to help the cervix open up completely.
Okay, so here is where I did the hardest work of all. Dana told me to pant through the contractions so that my body would give all its energy to opening up the cervix the last little bit. I don’t know how long I laid there, but it seemed like it would never end. The contractions at this point were so strong and powerful. Further, I didn’t really know what she meant by “panting” through a contraction, so all I knew to do was reach back into the year 2000 when Sean and I took a Lamaze class and learned how to hee hee hoo and just do that. Funny thing—it totally helped! After I would pant through a contraction, Dana would tell me to take a deep cleansing breath and rest. I would, and then the next contraction would come, and we would do the whole routine over again.
I truly don’t remember much about this time. I know Linsey was next to me rubbing my back, Dana was at my feet, and Sean was right by my side. I was, at times, hanging on to him for dear life, it seemed.
Finally, Dana checked me again and said that there was still cervix and that the water bag was in the way. When she checked me a contraction hit and I was overcome with the urge to push. I pushed involuntarily and then apologized profusely for doing so. I was still so out of it—I had no idea what was going on, really. I just knew I was supposed to be panting, and I couldn’t do it anymore. Dana and Linsey comforted me that I was okay and hadn’t done anything wrong. Dana knew the baby was ready to be born, and so she swiftly moved the last little bit of cervix out of the way and at the same time broke the water bag with her finger. Almost immediately, the baby’s head began to crown.
At that point, there was no stopping the urge to push. It was an overwhelming, sheer surge of power running through my body.
Sean helped me stay in position to let the baby out, and I pushed with all my strength. No more goat noises or loud moans. My pushing sound was this deep, low, guttural, mighty war cry. Sean said it was otherworldly. All I know is that it was a sound I had never before heard myself make and even today could not replicate if I tried. Pushing, by the way, did not hurt. It was all energy…I don’t know how else to explain it. I was aware of feeling the baby come out, but not even that much. I had to ask Linsey when the head was out because I didn’t know. Everyone was cheering me on, but I wasn’t sure how hard to push or if I should try to stop. Thankfully, the body kind of goes on autopilot and takes care of those things for you. I think I was just hung up on remembering hospital, doctor directed, epidural pushing. Just, so not the same!
I only pushed a few times, and soon I was reaching for my baby. I told everyone in the room not to tell me what it was, in case they saw before me. I couldn’t see between the legs very well, but I felt around and felt…well, nothing, so I said it was a girl! Sean double-checked just to be sure and confirmed.
Such a feeling of relief to have her out! I asked what time she had been born, and when Linsey said it was 1:30 a.m., I absolutely could not believe it. How did almost 4 hours go by so fast?! That’s Laborland for you…
My mom and Shaylea came in right when the head was crowning. Shaylea was so happy to see the baby being born.
Admiring our little girl while waiting for the cord to stop pulsating.
Eventually, Daddy cut the cord.
Freedom! Sean took Emma to meet her new family while I delivered the placenta and got sutured from a little tearing.
Sweet sisters!
Daddy is in love.
The next morning Joseph got up early to meet his baby sister. He was quite smitten!
Welcome to our family, precious Emma Catherine!
