My Birth Story, aka The Longest Blog Entry Ever

Jubilee Claire
12/18/06
12:01 pm

As I sit down to write our birth story, I can’t help but reflect on December 17^th, the last day I would be pregnant, although of course I didn’t know it at the time. As we don’t plan any future pregnancies, it really was my last day as a pregnant woman as far as we can foresee. My mom, who was visiting to help out after the birth, wanted to poke around gift shops that day. After we dropped her off, our family of three shopped at the Co-op, then went to Pancake Alley for lunch, since I had been craving a chocolate cream pie. We had a nice time (although the pie wasn’t just right, and I’m still craving chocolate cream pie), went home for a nap, then I went to see The Holiday with my mom and my friends Isadora and Jessica. When Jessica was overdue with her baby last summer, we went to see three chick flicks and made the agreement that we’d see movies again when I was overdue. Maybe I was waiting for the fulfillment of this agreement before going into labor! The only thing I’d change about that day is that I’d eat more dinner next time. All I had was a yogurt, since I wasn’t very hungry, and I could have used more to power me through the big event.

That night we went to bed and, as usual, I listened to the preparation for childbirth segment on my husband’s MP3 player. When it was over, I lay there for a while, feeling contractions- but mild contractions at bedtime had been normal for several weeks. These seemed different, though, somewhat more intense as well as more persistent. I remember thinking “I’m going into labor now? How strange. I think I’ll try to go to sleep and see if it goes away.”

I must have dozed off and on. I also remember continuing to feel contractions, which seemed to confirm that I really was in labor. We don’t have a clock in our room, but at some point I decided I was curious about how far apart they were. I got my cell phone, saw that it was midnight, and timed my contractions, still trying to relax completely in between. I sent Kamy a text message at 1 am that said “3 mins apart but I want to keep it mellow here and let everyone keep sleeping.” She texted back right away, “K yay.”

I was returning from a bathroom trip at 2:30 when Jon woke up to go after me. I said to him, “I want you to keep getting your rest, so don’t get too excited, but I have to tell you that we’re having this baby soon!” Everything seems kind of timeless, since there were no clocks in any of the rooms where I labored, but at some point I decided I wanted to get in the tub. He filled it for me, we lit our labor candle that had been designated at our blessingway, and eventually he called Kamy to tell her I was ready for her to be there. When she got there, she asked me how far dilated I was. Most laboring women have an intuitive sense of this. I was scared that I wasn’t very far because of my last labor. I was afraid to make a prediction and be wrong; I was afraid I was only a centimeter or two and that I was in for another long, painful, disappointing labor, feeling as if I had failed. I asked Kamy to check me. My feeling of elation when she said, “you’re about a six,” is indescribable. I didn’t get to six during Zephyr’s birth until I had labored for 40 hours and was laying down in a hospital bed (after planning a homebirth) begging for an epidural. I had a moment of disbelief, “Are you just saying that?!?” She gave me a look, and I began sobbing. She quietly left the bathroom as Jon sobbed with me. I remember looking at Jon, saying, “I love my contractions! I love them like I loved my epidural! They’re working!”

Around the same time, I remember saying to Kamy “Why aren’t I miserable?” I thought if I was that far along, I should feel a lot worse. I was still able to converse between contractions, and was coping well with the intensity. One thing that I remember getting me through was counting my breaths during the contractions. Each one lasted about eleven exhales. Knowing they would only last that long, and then I could completely relax again, was extremely helpful. I think the theme for this entire pregnancy and most of the birth was just that, “Why aren’t I miserable?”

At some point Zephyr woke up, and was happy for a while. I got out of the tub so I could cuddle and nurse him. Nursing him while in labor made me feel like I deserved a mother-of-the-year award! I smiled knowing that the nursing made my contractions more intense and productive as well. At 5 am Kamy called our friend Carrie, who was slated to be Zephyr’s person- the one who would play with him and help see to his needs. Carrie was already at work and needed some time to find a replacement (she’s a radio announcer), but in the meantime, her partner, Char, arrived. That was a really nice time- hanging out all together in the living room, Zephyr was in a good mood, my contractions made me happy, there was good energy from all the people there (Marnie, one of my other midwives, had also arrived by this time), and we knew our baby was coming.

Although I was really enjoying the social atmosphere, I decided that my legs were more relaxed in the tub, and I wanted to get back in. This was the catalyst for a difficult time for Zephyr. For a LONG time he cried, wanting me to get out of the tub. I really didn’t want to get out of the tub, because I felt so good there. He didn’t want to get in with me. He wouldn’t succumb to any of the distractions we offered. He wouldn’t eat any breakfast. Again, because of the timeless aspect, I don’t know how long it went on, but he was more upset than we had ever seen him before. He was frantic. Eventually, he agreed to go get donuts with Dada. Jon didn’t want to leave, but Zephyr really needed a change of scene. Carrie went with them, and they tell me that he was fine as soon as they got into the car. Zephyr went straight to Carrie’s house (two doors down from ours) when they returned from the store. We checked in with Carrie and Char from time to time, and he was always playing happily. When labor became difficult later on, I remember saying that I missed Zephyr. But I knew that he was where he needed to be, even though it wasn’t what we had anticipated.

I asked to be checked again around 9 am, and I was at 9 cm. I started feeling impatient to be done, and decided to get out of the tub, thinking that dry land might help things to get more intense. These next few hours were the hard ones. Again, it’s all a time blur, but I’ll write about the things I remember, although they may not be in sequential order. From this point on I had a hard time getting comfortable. I laid on my side on the futon in the guest bedroom. I sat on the couch. I kneeled leaning over the ottoman. I balanced on the birth ball. I squatted next to the tub. I tried sitting on the toilet- something I had always thought would be comfortable in labor, but it sent my sciatic nerve into an immediate protest. Mostly, I sat on a couch cushion on the living room floor, leaning on Jon for support. These contractions were hard to relax between, and even harder to relax through. “Melt like butter,” my midwives suggested, but that image didn’t work for me- my muscles were very tense. We listened to the CD of the Dalai Lama chanting. At one point, Jon, in a truly inspired moment, took The Prophet off the bookshelf and read the passage about children out loud. I wept over how beautiful it was. I remember saying, “I wish someone could do this for me.” Also, “I wish I had done this last week, or I was going to do it next week- anytime but right now.” I was overwhelmed with how happy I was that we were having this baby our way, and cried many times, saying, “I’m just so grateful.” There were also times I whimpered over the pain. I snapped at my mom ("Stop talking!!!") for asking questions about the stereo while I was having a contraction. Now, three midwives were there- Mel completed the trio. I would look at their beautiful, compassionate faces and felt surrounded by love and faith.

At last, I felt the urge to push. We went into the guest room- a place I never anticipated birthing the baby, but somehow it seemed right. It is the warmest room in the house, and I thought the futon would be a good height for me to kneel leaning against, utilizing the same position in which I birthed Zephyr. Kamy checked me to make sure I wouldn’t be pushing against any cervix, and gave me the go ahead. When I think about this phase of labor, I feel like I had no control over my actions. I struggled to find a comfortable pushing position, kneeling, standing, squatting, sitting supported by Jon. At last, with just a small amount of distance for the baby to travel, I laid down on my back. How can you describe the sensation of pushing? I must have said that I was afraid of it hurting. “It is going to hurt,” Mel’s face came into focus, her eyes locking with mine. “But just know you have to go there to push this baby through.”

Just like when I pushed with Zephyr’s birth, I felt like I was never going to be able to do it. Also, just like with Zephyr’s birth, I was surprised when I felt the baby’s head pop out. “What was that?” I inexplicably asked. “The baby’s head” someone answered. I must be a lucky woman, because I don’t seem to register the legendary “ring of fire” sensation. Although I had planned to push in a slow and controlled way to try to avoid tearing, I was so excited to be almost done that I immediately pushed her body out, too. Kamy supported my perineum, so I owe her many thanks for my tear- free delivery.

Jon caught Jubilee, and she began crying immediately, letting us all know she was healthy. Jon put her on my tummy, and I could hardly believe that it was over. She continued crying for some time, but I felt too exhausted to do much to comfort her. Just holding her wet, new, tiny body was all I could manage. She finally stopped crying as Jon and I sang "Happy Birthday, Dear Jubilee." Before she was born, I had a hard time imagining how I would love anyone as much as I love Zephyr. But I felt an enormous love for her immediately, and understood how, as they say, the heart grows. She nursed successfully as soon as she was given the chance, proving that she knew she was the daughter of a La Leche League leader.

I love looking around my house and thinking, “Our baby was born here.” There were so many advantages to being at home. When I felt I could eat and drink between contractions, someone would get me exactly what I wanted, from our own pantry. I could labor wherever I wanted- every inch of our home is a comfortable and familiar place for me. When Char and Carrie brought Zephyr back, they lovingly prepared my first postpartum meal. I showered in my own shower with my own bath products, and afterwards Marnie retrieved fresh clothes from my closet and helped me dress. The four of us snuggled up in our own bed for a nap just as the midwives were getting ready to leave. There was no mess to speak of; by the time I got up, my mom was folding the laundry.

Although those last three hours seemed unbearably difficult at the time, now that six days have passed, I can look at my new daughter and feel grateful that really, it was only three hours of discomfort throughout not only the labor, but essentially the entire pregnancy. My recovery has been remarkable; I have to remind myself that I just had a baby and should sit and relax when I can instead of scrubbing sticky spots off the kitchen floor. Mostly, I want to gaze at my new baby- my last baby. I know how quickly she will grow and change, and I want to savor these precious newborn sounds and movements.