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January 19, 2002
At this point, I had no idea how far along I was, but hearing John ask if I needed to push actually calmed me down. When he asked me these questions, I had to stop and pay attention to my body. And while it was obvious I was progressing rapidly, we weren’t in pushing range yet.
Still, I wasn’t letting John off the phone. I had labored through intense contractions alone for over an hour and I was not going it alone any longer. John was a great coach through out his entire drive home – all ten minutes of it (it usually takes twice as long). While on the phone I started stacking my bag, video camera, purse, and kids’ stuff by the door.
A few minutes before John pulled up, I was hit with a huge contraction, and I moaned involuntarily. Things were getting serious pretty quick, and I was never gladder to see the headlights hit the driveway.
John started loading the car, and told me just to wait outside. I waddled down our slippery, muddy, steep lawn, and waited by the trunk of the car, since sitting was more painful than standing. What I remember is the glorious silence of that night. There is something calming and serene about the deep night. The streets are empty, pristine and a person can almost believe in human goodness and world peace.
I remember thinking this as I looked up into the street lamp. It was raining, and the wind was making the rain dance in circles under the gold of the lamp. I remember thinking it was beautiful.
And then I had another contraction, and I forgot all about peace and human goodness and beautiful rain.
At last John carried out each of our sleepy-headed kids – first Ivan and then Chloe – and I heaved myself into the passenger seat of the car. Ivan slept through much of the ride to the birth center, but Chloe was wide-awake and excited. Over and over she talked about Giselle, and asked if she was coming.
I can’t recall much of the ride to the birth center, other than it was filled with contractions and a bit of moaning. And John was starting to be annoying again, asking that damn “push” question every five seconds.
We arrived at the birth center around ten to 3:00 AM. I headed in first, and met Rachel, one of the assistant midwives. She welcomed me and started filling up the immense birthing tub. A quick check revealed that I was 6cm dilated and fully effaced. Even though I was only 6cm, I was feeling some nausea and was shaking through some of the contractions. It was just going so fast, and because of that I think it was quite intense.
But once I slipped into the tub, I relaxed. The water was so warm and the atmosphere so calming. The tub room was only lit from light from the adjoining rooms. Candles were lit, relaxing music was put on, and I slipped into some sort of trance.
I’m not going to lie to you. It was painful. Labor is hard physical work. But coupled with the pain is the feeling of sheer power. It’s nearly indescribable. Contraction after contraction rolled over my body and I would slip deeper into the water and moan.
Being free to be vocal helped tremendously. I never really enjoyed the structured breathing of Lamaze or Bradley. They both seem counter-intuitive to me. I think both were born out of our culture’s need to control every aspect of our lives, including our behavior during birth. In the hospital with Chloe and Ivan, I was discouraged from being vocal, and I believe that held back my progress. Moaning through my contractions with Giselle’s birth seemed to make it easier to breath and easier to relax when I wasn’t contracting.
The interesting part of this birth was that John just wasn’t free to be with me the entire time. Chloe and Ivan were curious and kept wandering into the tub room, and John kept trying to herd them into the reception area. John put on Toy Story for the kids, and Ivan quickly became engrossed in the movie. Chloe, however, wasn’t so easily swayed. But it was also difficult for her to see me in labor, and she would wander in, see me, and start to get upset. This was hard for me too, as I didn’t want her to be traumatized at all by the arrival of her baby sister. John did his best to stay with me and keep Chloe calm and occupied elsewhere, but he’s one person, and it was not that easy of a task.
Amika arrived at around 4:00 AM, and let me know she was there by gently touching my shoulder, and asking me if I needed something to drink. At the time, I thought it was maybe 3:10 AM or so.
Amika and Rachel were magnificent coaches, talking softly and sensing when I needed space and when I needed help. They brought me water to drink, rubbed my back as I labored, and patted cool washcloths against my forehead. Because of them, I didn’t feel that John’s split attention was at all a problem.
Throughout labor I moved around the tub freely, and no one told me to get into any specific position. I worked at listening to my body, and I spent some time on my hands and knees, some time in a side-lying position, and other times I sort of floated in a semi-sitting position. It was wonderful to be able to move around this freely, and the water aided this quite a bit. There was almost no resistance in the water, and moving was just as easy as it could be.
As labor progressed, I lost all conception of time. It seemed like I had just gotten into the tub when my contractions started coming one on top of the other. In reality, I had been there for just over an hour.
My back and the outside of my thighs began to ache horribly, and my moaning was getting louder and longer. I began to shake and I remember feeling afraid. Self-doubt is a pretty common characteristic of transition, and I have that part of labor down pat. Transition hit, and I started thinking that labor was never going to end, that I hadn’t been there long enough, and that something must be wrong. In my mind, it could only have been 3:15, and I was starting to feel the urge to push. I was convinced that there was no way I could have dilated that quickly. In reality, it was just after 4:30, and I was nearing the end of my last pregnancy faster than I realized.
It was around this time that I started bearing down involuntarily with each contraction. I didn’t realize that I was doing it, but Rachel and Amika did. I was feeling pressure, and they told me that if it felt good, that I could push. I, however, was still firmly implanted in the “self doubt zone” and thought that there was no way I could be able to push. I remember Amika telling me that if it felt right, then it was okay to push. And I said something silly like “What if it only feels right because I want it to, and not because it is?” Ridiculous!
Generally, my midwives feel that when a woman listens to her body, she can’t go wrong. So, if a woman feels like pushing, they don’t check her dilation. But I begged them to check me, since I was somehow convinced that I wasn’t ready.
I was nearly completely dilated, with only a slight lip of cervix left. Amika said it was very stretchy and that I would be fine if I pushed through the lip. Yay!
So, I started pushing in a hands and knees position, because this was the way I pushed with Ivan. And with Ivan, I only pushed three times. So, after pushing through several contractions this time, and not feeling any progress, I became discouraged. I had convinced myself that I was going to birth Giselle in a similarly swift manner. I remember saying over and over “It’s not working…it’s not working!”
Amika and Rachel were both so encouraging. Amika knew that Giselle was at a –1 station when I started pushing, so she knew it could be awhile. Lucky for me, she didn’t tell me this, because I am sure I would have become quite discouraged. As it was, I pushed with everything I had.
About 8 minutes into pushing, I decided to turn into a more traditional position for birth. I turned and sat down, and started pushing again. Something seemed to give, and I felt a huge gush. And then, all at once, I could feel Giselle’s head slip down the birth canal. I remember yelling and feeling overwhelmed and a little dizzy with excitement and pain and pressure. John was there, and I looked over and Chloe and Ivan were at the other side of the room, looking nervous. And part of me was trying to hold back, because I knew, I knew this was it…my last birth and that I needed to try and capture the feeling of these moments. And then my body started pushing and part of me was somewhere else – above me looking down. And Amika was saying “she’s coming, Heather. Reach down and feel her head.” I reached down and felt her soft hair and the roundness of her head. It felt odd, feeling another person slipping out of my body. A few more pushes, and her head was born. Her shoulders felt huge, and took as much work to get out as her head. But with the next contraction and a few good pushes, she was born at 4:47 AM, and Amika was saying, “lift her up, Heather.” I opened my eyes, and reached down, and pulled her out of the water and onto my chest. Her eyes were open and she was alert. Within a few minutes, she was rooting around for the breast. Giselle was here.
There is precious little that can compare to the birth of your child, and after our experience, I can only recall bits and pieces of the time that followed. Giselle was weighed and measured – 9lbs, 2oz and 19 inches long, and her head was 15 inches. Any worries that I had about Chloe or Ivan being traumatized by the birth were soon forgotten. Within seconds of Giselle’s birth, they were both beside the tub, and Chloe was asking repeatedly if she could hold her. As for me, I managed her quick birth with only a minor tear and a small scrape – and neither required any stitching. Within days I felt as good as new.
Rachel made us all a huge breakfast of pancakes, sausage, eggs and orange juice, and we all ate in our room while admiring how beautiful Giselle was. John took Chloe and Ivan home a few hours later, and I slept on and off for the rest of the day. Around 5 PM that evening, he came back and picked me up, and we went home. All five us.
heather r
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