My Birth Story

To begin, let me first set the stage with what I had pictured in my head as being the ultimate, perfect birth...

On an evening when all is peaceful, sweet little curls tucked into beds, my labor would begin. My contractions would surge in and out of my sleep as I rested for a while, practicing my breathing and meditating on the miracle I was apart of. Towards the wee hours, the intensity would gather, signaling the end was near. I would call my midwife, light some candles, turn on peaceful music and focus deeper into breathing the baby down. The birthing tub would be filled and I would ease into it for added comfort. My midwives would arrive, tell me I'm fabulous and cook up the Birth Soup. The intensity would grow, me knowing it's time for baby to appear and yet still in control, getting ready for the final stage. All the while little curly heads tucked in bed remain that way. The baby would slide easily down the birth path and into our arms.

Sounds idyllic? Of course!
God sure knows best.
This is what really happened:

Tuesday night I went to bed, sensing something was different, but too tired to ponder it. At exactly 3:30 am I awoke to a *pop!* yet it was not my water breaking, maybe just my pelvic bone shifting, I don't know. I pulled my snuggly self out of bed to use the restroom and climbed sleepily back into bed. As soon as I lay down, the contractions began, no warning. They came on hard and fast, sometimes a minute in-between, sometimes seven. My husband heard me breathing through them and woke to see if I was okay. I told him, "It's begun". He got up to begin inflating the birthing tub and to make some calls. We called our midwife at 4:30 am. I was getting agitated because the surges were coming on very strong now. And poor hubby was still trying to move a pile of laundry, set up the tub, take care of me, etc. Just before 5:30, my midwife arrived and assessed the situation. She had to try to help with the hoses for filling up the tub, she had gear to bring in and by now I was writhing. I was on my hands and knees thinking that baby was posterior and that's why my back was so angry at me, but looking back I'm not sure that was the case.

Now the tub is part way filled and I want to dive in to take the edge off the intensity of it all. I climb in and find that it's warm... but not very... Hubby and midwife are still kinda rushing around trying to get set up. In the tub, I'm flailing around like a fish caught in a net. I remember specifically looking at my midwife at one point with terror in my eyes, hurriedly whispering, "I think he's coming!" At that point, she put on her apron and gloves and hubby came in. Nothing more could be done about the lukewarm tub water. The focus was now on the birth that was now so imminent. I was gonna start pushing and the other midwife hadn't even arrived yet!

I remember feeling that I would be happy to slip under the water and disappear, escape from my body. I vaguely heard midwife say, "Hold her head, she's going under!" Hubby's reassuring and strong hand reaching under my head. I pushed a few times and felt the familiar ring of fire... aaaaah!!!! I pushed his little head out and was still in the zone, my midwife interrupted my thoughts and said "Reach down and touch your son's head". I reached down and felt the softness of his little head and knew I would never forget that. Smile. I hear my midwife saying to me, "I want you to give me a great big push next because the cord is wrapped around his neck." It wasn't strangling him but it did need to be pushed down over his shoulders. I felt the release of his body coming out and then saw his little pink fleshy self being laid on my chest. He was born at 6:25 am, less than 3 hours from when the contractions began.

My midwives tended to me, got me settled in bed. I was fed and then baby was fed. So comfy and cozy.

I *heart* home birth! I would have never thought I could do a birth at home, but that was just because I was not informed about it. We fear what we do not know. Now I know and I would not have it any other way.

Whew! What a surreal experience! I was in my body, and yet I was not. Maybe a woman feels that way because the pain is so utterly intense and yet she is needed to complete the task.

It was not the birth I had pictured, but in ways I couldn't have planned, it was better. My daughters slept through the whole thing and sleepily came in to see baby brother around 8 am. They got to hold and snuggle him and then go out to a pancake breakfast with Nana! The best way to celebrate!

I love the first feelings of that little baby head nestling down under my chin.
That perfect little creation, that soft virgin skin that makes all the pain fade away like a distant memory.
The miracle of life, this mystery of love that will take me a lifetime to understand.

~ christa jean