One week past my due date, I was feeling discouraged. I had been experiencing predromal labor every evening for two weeks, and each time I went to bed, the contractions petered out to nothing. So when I started experiencing strong contractions on Friday afternoon, I tried my hardest not to get excited :P My brother was visiting our apartment for the afternoon, and so I laughed and paced while I talked for a while, until he convinced me I ought to time them and call my husband, Barefoot Man.
Eventually, they were bearable but coming 3min. apart, so I called my midwife, Debi, Barefoot Man, and my doula to warn them this "might be it". Dh came home, and we sent dd Mirth with my parents so we'd have a chance to relax. (But only after she helped daddy blow up the giant fishie pool we planned to labor in.)
I contracted in my living room 3 min apart from 6pm till 2am. Nothing unbearable at all, but I was feeling so tired. I strongly suspected that dd's head wasn't engaged due to funky position in my pelvis, so I tried every trick in my book: big circles on the birthing ball, relaxation, walking, lunging, squats...nothing changed. Being a doula, I found this incredibly frustrating I'm used to being able to help things!
Finally, I felt strongly led in my spirit to go to bed. It was stronger than an intuition; I swear it was like the Spirit was whispering it in my ear. So, I did. And the contractions slowed down. I resigned myself (and disappointed dh) to the fact that this was a false alarm.
I woke up the next morning, put my feet on the floor, and was greeted by a strong contraction with lots of pressure on my cervix! Her head had moved while I was sleeping! And I was rested! I called my doula and asked her to come in an hour. My mw could tell by the tone of my voice she'd better hurry, so she headed on her way to my house.
This part of Lark's birth is so special to me...
An hour later, I was really feeling the cntx. In a big way. I was about 5cm. My doula and husband were amazing! I found myself feeling so incredibly peaceful and relaxed.
(As a side note, because of past life experiences, I have a hard time just letting others love on me. I usually have to be in control of myself, and can't just let go and rely on someone else's comfort...)
But I found the more I relaxed in their arms, the more peaceful I became. My mw commented that I was incredibly tranquil I was. My doula and husband brushed my hair, rubbed my feet, wrapped their arms around me, held me and murmured gentle words to me. I honestly cannot remember labor being frightening or difficult! As each contraction washed over me, I drew so much comfort in my doula and dh's gentle effleurage. They played with my hair. They praised me. I felt God's hand sheltering me through each contraction. I can't even describe how incredibly loved and cared for I felt. I couldn't escape labor; my only choice was to relax in the arms of love and accept the pain and the comfort...and trust that God was guiding the whole experience. (darn it, I'm even crying now...) Truly, it was such a healing experience for me personally. I labored this way for several hours
Barefoot Man and the mw's assistant filled the birth pool, and I was cleared to get in at 7cm. The warm water was amazing. And I went from 7cm to complete in 10 minutes!
Debi never checked me to see if I was complete, she just encouraged me to trust my body's urge to push. And what an urge!! (Since I'd been medicated for Mirth's birth, I'd never felt it before!)
I think that was the most earthy, primal feeling I've ever felt in my entire life. The pressure was overwhelming, and the only thing that possesed my thoughts was, "Push this baby out!! NOW!!" All pushing was self-directed, and I felt so incredibly respected through the whole delivery. It was truly empowering. She came at me so furiously, and descended so fast, and I had no idea she was already crowning after three contractions! All I could think was, "I can't do this much longer!!"
I screamed a primal scream, I think I shocked Barefoot, and was shocked myself to find that the only thing I could think to cry out was the name of Jesus. I kept hearing myself say, "Be here, Jesus! Be here with me!" I don't even recall cognitively thinking it, it was just pouring out of my mouth over and over. And He was.
Lark was born after three contractions, and Barefoot Man got to deliver her at my mw's direction. He was so thrilled. I was shocked and overjoyed when she was suddenly plopped on my breast...like: "that's it? She's already here??" She is beautiful. 8lbs 5oz, 21 inches, daddy's-chin and-mommy's-eyes beautiful. I felt limp as a noodle and ready to conquer Everest at the same time!
She nursed like a pro, and with great enthusiasm. I remember her looking up at me in a worried way, and then pooching out her lips in (what's now her trademark) pout, and then shudder-sighing and snuggling in once I reassured her with my voice that all was as it should be. Soon after her birth, Barefoot, Mirth, baby Lark, and I were napping together on our bed. So, so different than anything I'd ever experienced before, in such a lovely way.