Labour Night
My contractions started just as I was going to
sleep, at twenty minutes before midnight. I know because I checked the
clock so I would know how long my labour lasted. Even with the very
first one, I KNEW I would be up all night birthing my baby, and that
in the morning I would be a mother.
I stayed in bed for the first hour or so,
glancing at the clock whenever I felt a contraction come on (every ten
minutes), and absolutely delighting in every moment. When lying down
became uncomfortable, I got up and paced around the living room. I
went to kiss Guy, who was busy at the computer, and inform him of his
imminent fatherhood.
"I think we're going to have a baby soon," I
said.
He gave me this look as though he expected a baby
to fall out of me in the next moments. I laughed, "not THAT
soon!"
The contractions were becoming stronger, and I
wanted to get into the bath tub. By this time it was nearly two in the
morning, and I know that the sound of running water is clearly audible
in the adjacent apartments. I made a mental note to apologize to our
neighbours in the morning, and ran the bath. For the next few hours I
camped out in the bathroom, alternating between the tub and the toilet
and pausing to squat or kneel down during particularly strong
contractions. One thing that felt really good was stretching my inner
thighs and exhaling when the contractions peaked. I stood with my legs
apart, one knee bent, and lowered myself into a sideways lunge. As I
stretched I felt my muscles expand, relax and release any tension that
was in them. It felt GOOD! Guy came in to check up on me every so
often and see if I wanted anything. I asked him to get me some water
and put on the Brian Eno cd. I think Guy wanted to keep me company, or
maybe he wanted me to keep him company, but in any case I was quite
deep in concentration and couldn't stay focused on anything besides my
own body for long.
I lost track of the time. Contractions seemed to
be coming very close together. I was uncomfortable in every position I
tried, and I tried them all. I began to feel pain, and experimented
with vocalizing while kneeling in the tub. I lost my mucous plug on
all fours on the bathroom floor. I lost my dinner bending over the
sink. I felt much better after that, but for some reason I was very
concerned about the mess. Just as I had finished cleaning up, Guy came
in and suggested that I might be in transition now. This surprised me,
as I didn't think he knew what transition was! (I found out later that
he'd done an internet search for labour + vomitting). I thought it
seemed a bit soon to be in transition, but that if I really was, that
would mean that the baby would be born soon, and that was a good
thing. I was getting tired!
I decided to stay in the bath for a while longer.
The water was cooling off by this point so I drained some and added
more hot water. I made a mental note to apologize *really nicely* to
our neighbours. I was still very uncomfortable and was moaning through
the contractions. It was interesting for me to hear myself make such
strange sounds, but it didn't really help with the pain. I tried
visualizing my cervix opening up like a morning flower but found that
absolutely impossible. I went back to moaning. I threw up again. I was
beginning to realize why this is called "labour." The bath got cold
again and I wanted to get dry. I asked Guy to set up a "birthing
place" in the bedroom, and that is where I stayed for the rest of my
baby's first big Journey.
It was probably between 4 and 5 AM by this time.
I knelt down on the birth nest and used a stack of pillows for
support. The contractions were very strong, and I was making a lot of
strange sounds. I decided that the neighbours would probably never
become my friends anyway, and stopped making mental notes about them.
Guy came in at some point but I wasn't aware of his presence until I
heard him snoring, and turned to see him slumped over in the far
corner of the room. Talk about relaxed! Eventually he woke up, and I
became VERY aware of his gaze behind me. I was annoyed and I didn't
know how or even what to tell him. He sensed it, though, and left the
room again, only to come back and continue staring at me. I felt
ambivilent about his presence. On one hand I really wanted him there
for support, but on the other hand I felt more irritated than
supported by his presence. Luckily, Guy knows me pretty well and he
sensed all I was feeling even without any words.
"Just tell me what to do," he said
softly.
That was just what I needed to hear, and I
instantly knew what I needed. I told Guy to come around to the front
of me. He sat with his back to the wall and I, still kneeling, put my
arms around his shoulders. With every contraction I leaned into him
with all my weight. In between contractions I could hear him snoring
again. This turned out to be my ideal labour position, as I felt
physically supported yet mentally and emotionally unfettered by the
presence of another person.
We stayed like this for what seemed like ages,
and I was becoming exhausted. The peaks of the contractions were very
intense, and there seemed to be little time in between them. I think
the sun was coming up when I whispered "I can't...." Hearing myself
say those words made me angry. What was I talking about? "What are you
talking about?" a voice in my head demanded. "Of course you can! Who
do you think is going to do this for you? This baby is coming, this is
YOUR baby, and YOU CAN AND YOU WILL BIRTH THIS BABY!!"
I went back to labouring with renewed energy. All
this time I had been making a conscious effort NOT to push with the
contractions and instead to breathe deeply through them, but now the
urge was overwhelming. It felt like if I did not push, I literally
could not breathe. So, I pushed when the contractions peaked, and
breathed deeply through the rest of them. I even started to feel
comfortable! I remember thinking, "Just when I have this labour thing
figured out, it's almost over."
And it WAS almost over. I felt a sudden gushing
between my legs. I thought it was my water bag breaking, but when I
looked down all I could see was a lot of blood. This was alarming at
the time (I found out later it's probably normal--at least, I couldn't
find any reference to it being 'abnormal'). In any case I felt fine so
I just carried on. I started to feel an immense pressure on my rear
end, as if the baby was trying to come out THAT way. I knew it
wouldn't happen like that but I put an olive oil soaked towel up
against my perineum for counter pressure anyway. All of a sudden, the
baby's head was crowning.
"The baby is coming!" I said to Guy, who had
woken up by this point. "I love you baby," I said to the baby, "please
come slowly."
Everything after that seemed to happen very
quickly. With the next contraction, I felt myself being stretched
beyond anything I thought possible. I exhaled deeply and the baby's
head was born.
"It's a head!" said Guy. In absolute awe, I
reached down to touch this soft, wet life, still finding it difficult
to imagine that this was not an overripe grapefruit but a BABY, until
I felt a tiny little ear. It really WAS a baby!
"How does the head look?" I asked. I knew that
everything was fine as long as the head was not white and did not turn
dark purple.
"Kind of normal," Guy said in a choked up
new-daddy sort of way. I looked in his eyes and thought I saw a
tear.
"You mean blue?" I asked. I did not feel
emotional at all at this point. I had work to do!
"Yes, blue," he said.
I felt the head rotate, almost like magic.
"Babies really KNOW how to be born!" I thought. I felt the need to
change positions. With my left hand still holding the towel, my right
holding the baby's head, my legs sore from sqatting and the rest of me
feeling like I'd been up all night in labour (which I had), I wasn't
sure that catching the baby myself was the best option at this point.
I changed to a kneeling position, with my arms supported on a low
table, and told Guy to get behind me and catch his baby.
There seemed to be a slight pause just then, like
maybe the baby was taking a last look around in there, the way I do
before I move out of an apartment. I asked again how the baby's head
looked, and Guy said he thought it was getting darker. I felt that
everything was fine, but was quite eager to meet my baby and get some
sleep, so with the next contraction I pushed with a little extra
force. As I did my baby's body slipped out: head, then a hand by the
face, shoulders, then everything else, according to Guy. We heard
those sweet first cries almost immediately, and although there were
obviously no problems with breathing, I put the baby face down over my
leg so I could rest for a moment. I didn't bother to check the sex, we
knew it was a girl.
"It's a boy," said Guy.
"It IS?!?"
Minutes later I was in the bath with our new son,
Kai. He was not immediately interested in nursing, and basically slept
through the whole bath. The placenta came out with a strong
contraction while I was still in the tub, perhaps 15 minutes after Kai
was born. I was surprised by how short the cord was! Nursing would
have been very awkward, to say the least. We put the placenta in a
bucket, dried off and all went to bed together. It was 9:30 AM,
February 13, 2002, and it had been a long night.
What amazed me most about Kai's birth was how
totally normal everything felt. My body guided me throughout, while I
simply listened to it and trusted in the process. This trust came
easily throughout the labour and birth, and was in fact only really
tested the next day, when I passed an *enormous*, liver-shaped blood
clot and then noticed a very large piece of membrane hanging between
my legs. I checked the placenta to make sure it was intact. In fact,
the membrane on the maternal side had been torn right off and was
hanging from the cord. I checked carefully, though, and all the parts
seemed to be there. I was afraid to interfere and wanted to wait for
the membrane to come out on it's own, but eventually wrapped the end
of it around my finger and tugged very gently until it was all out. It
was as simple as that!
Kai is my first child, and my first experience
with birth, yet I found I had all the knowledge I needed to bring him
into the world within me. I never checked my blood pressure or looked
for fetal heart tones. I never checked to see how dilated I was, or
even knew what stage of labour I was in (I'm still not sure Guy's
assessment of when I reached transition was accurate). However, I
never once doubted that I was "progressing." I didn't need to remind
myself that the baby would be born when he was ready and not a moment
before. I had complete trust in my body, in my baby, and in birth.
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