The belated Birth Story of Electra

I'll preface this by saying that I'd been having off and on prodromal labor for a week or so, which is pretty normal for me. Because of various emotional journeys during her pregnancy, including the pregnancy itself being a surprise, I felt like I was on a crash course of processing all the change in too short a period of time.

I knew beforehand I'd "go over" my estimated due date, mostly just because emotionally, I didn't feel ready enough. My third birth was a beautiful but drawn-out homebirth, and I'd experienced a really intense pushing phase in the water, a baby that was so focused on staring at mama that she forgot to breathe (and needed mild resuscitation), and a retained bit of placenta that had needed to be manually retrieved.

Two nights before labor started, I felt like a burning ball of energy; I literally felt like I was 100 degrees, but the thermometer told me I was "normal". My body felt FULL of energy, as if I were about to be the source of a nuclear meltdown, and I panicked. I started crying, and then sobbing, finally realizing that my heart and body were letting go of fear and apprehension. I breathed-it was almost as if I were going through emotional labor two days early.  I started having a few earnest contractions, but a phone call (full of insensitive questions and suggestions) shut things down pretty quickly. Let that be a lesson to you, my sisters. If you're pregnant, unplug your phone and avoid those that shut your energy down. If you're a supporter, ask yourself: "Is what I'm about to say kind/thoughtful/necessary/uplifting?" 

Thursday morning (41 weeks!), dh announced that he was taking our three girls boating for the day, to get them out of my hair, so I'd have time to relax and visit my MW in a leisurely way. The sheer bliss I felt when he offered this told me it was exactly what my soul and the baby's needed. SPACE. 

My doula brain said, "If this were a client, I'd be getting excited about now...it's always when they let go and have no one around..." But, of course, that would never apply to me. I was going to be pregnant forever.

I took a bath, watched a movie, ate a snack, and headed out to do errands. In the car, the song "A Thousand Years" came on, and I started flowing with love and oxytocin and talking to my baby...whatever I needed to be, whatever I needed to do; this wasn't about me anymore, or how tired or desperate I was. Whenever and however that sweet person needed to enter the world, I considered myself a vessel. I was filled with insane LOVE. The force of it surprised me. I could feel the baby feeling loved, too. It encouraged my heart.

MW confirmed that nothing exciting was going on. :lol I started driving home, content, and feeling that it was coming SOON, when contractions started. Ho-hum. Whatever. :lol

When I got home, I relaxed and did a little laundry until Daddy and the girls got there. I mentioned that I'd been contracting. Things picked up. I shut myself into the bedroom, feeling like being alone. Nothing I couldn't talk through, but I felt the instinct to burrow into a sunlit room and breathe.

Around dinner time, things felt a little more organized, but not "for sure". I called my MW and told her, "Head's up...it's probably nothing, and we're going out to eat Mexican food. I'll call back in an hour and a half or so". She agreed it was a good plan, and we went out. I contracted and ate chicken soup and tittered with my funny family, getting up to go to the bathroom periodically.

Back at home, I was glad I'd called for help to come get the girls. It was obvious that I was in early labor, and I couldn't handle anyone needing anything from me. With the house quiet around 9:30pm, Barefoot Man and I watched Portlandia with me blowing through contractions, until the show stopped being funny any more.  (This seems to be a pattern for my labors!)

We moved back to the bedroom, where I continued to breathe through contractions, and dh kept my rice sock heated for me and brought me drinks.  Around 10pm, my MW arrived, and suggested I hop in the shower to see whether labor slowed or sped up. A niggling suspicion told me that I'd use up all the hot water and it might not have time to refill before I needed the birth pool, but since I was only an hour into "real labor", I agreed a shower sounded lovely. :heart

I started unearthly sounding in the shower..."mmmmMMMMmmmmm. ohhhhhhhhh. mmmmMMMmmmmm", and must have sounded convincing, because when I got out of the shower, the birth tub had been completely blown up and was ready for filling.  (Dh asked if he could snap a few photos over the curtain, and I'm SO glad he did!) Inside the shower, I felt the baby turning down into my pelvis, and started an internal mantra of "I'm ready baby. Come as soon as you're ready. I'm ready-I'm open to bringing you earthside, love." I could feel the baby speaking to me and responding in a cooperative way. This was very different from anything I'd ever felt/thought in labor before, but I could feel the endorphins and oxytocin flowing, and it felt oddly nice. I decided to go with it, and let birth be a cooperative effort. She was such a little soul-talking, even during her birth!

When I got out of the shower, I never did put clothes back on. I didn't want to be touched or talked to or bothered in any way for the next 30-40 minutes! I could feel the baby slipping down, inch by inch, I could feel my cervix giving way, and could sense a pressure not dissimilar to orgasm (I know, I know, I lack a better description! ) during rushes. I was surprised at how *tired* I felt already, surprised at the early intensity, surprised at how easily my body was giving way to birth...and suddenly decided I needed to take a nap!

I started muttering, "I need to lay down; fill the pool-you need to go boil some water! I'm going to go to sleep for a while!" At that point, I was contracting every 1.5 min or so.  (I'm not sure how I thought I was getting a nap! Remembering it with my lucid mind makes me giggle with affection for my cute, irrational birthing animal-self. ) Then, a STRONG rush hit, and I yelled, "Somebody press HARD on my tailbone, NOW!!" Dh was there, and literally leaning into my back as hard as he could with me yelling, "Harder!! Press harder!" (I didn't realize it, but I was complete and she was descending into the birth canal at that point.) Again, my doula brain knows this too well, but we operate from a completely different place while bringing babies earthside.

I tottered from the foot of the bed where I'd been leaning on the birth ball to the side, ready to take my nap, when another rush hit me, and again I yelled for pressure on my back, when, "POP!!!" My water gushed into the floor with a fury. I felt eyes widen with a flicker of fleeting horror, as I realized that nap wasn't going to happen. My jaw dropped, and baby descended SO quickly and hit my pelvic floor very quickly, making my knees wobble with pressure, and I panicked. In one hospital birth and two water births at home, my water had never broken until a few minutes before the baby arrived, and I liked my cushion of water during labor. I braced for hours of misery.

My mw said, "Get up on the bed, honey! Climb onto the bed, sweetie." At that point, my brain completely went dumb for a minute or two. I couldn't for the life of me understand what she was saying, why she was saying it or how I'd accomplish such a feat. I just stood there dumbly, as if english weren't my native tongue, because, for the moment, it really wasn't. (What I didn't see was dh motioning "should I fill the pool?" and my MW mouthing, "The baby is here. NOW!!")

I whimper-yelled hysterically, "I don't know how to do this!! *grrrrrrunt* What do I do?! I don't have my pool! Somebody tell me what to DO!!", as I waved my hands in the arm in front of my face.

At that point, somehow, I magically landed on the bed on my hands and knees. (I later learned that my MW grabbed me under my armpits and Barefoot Man grabbed my hips and they hoisted me onto the bed...color me impressed! :lol :heart) And then, I *did* know what to do. I knew that grunting feeling.

For some inexplicable reason, I yelled, "Sorry, guys, I'm pretty sure I"m going to poop! >.<*GRUUUUUUUNT*" My MW laughed and said, "That's no poop; that's your BABY!" My brain and emotions were miles behind this information. My WHAT? I'm pushing??

And, again, my mantra of, "Come on, baby...I'm ready when you are" came back to me, and I decided, "Okey doke..here we go!" As if I had a choice! :lol The urge to push, as always, was a force that will not accept no for an answer. The urge to push will have it's way. :heart So, like we all do, because it feels good, because it means the promise of relief, because we have no choice..I pushed through the fear. I was vaguely aware of my fingers digging into the sheets as I grunted and blew instinctively *puff puff puff puff* (with my mw saying, "That's it, thatta girl, blow through and bring 'im down slow...") and more grunting.

What I wasn't ready for, and nearly laughed out loud when I realized it, was that the baby was *crowning* on push #2. I made a comical face into the mattress.  I was grunting and crying and laughing all at once. I was pushing on land! On the BED! On all fours! And my tub was 1/4 full and still filling, and the ring of fire was a-burning! Whose birth WAS this?

Two seconds and a slithering, slick, warm little body later, I found out whose; our smallest, gorgeous fourth daughter! My MW put her in my arms, and I promise it wasn't my birth-addled brain; the child smiled at me from the crook of my right arm. :lol :happytears I started laughing to myself. I couldn't believe it was over, couldn't believe I'd just had exactly the birth I'd always been terrified of, couldn't believe how *easy* it had been, and couldn't believe the tiny pink gal who was practically chatting me up already with her facial expressions. #gigglemelthappytears

I did end up with some clotting and bleeding, but some meds and belly binding set that right again (though it did leave me a little sore in the belly from the kneading, and very tired).

Little Electra, 8lbs 3oz, 20 inches-our smallest little one yet...after a 9lb 22" 14.5cm head #3, she seemed so tiny! Our hearts are blessed. I feel like I won the love lottery.

Mirth and mommy, late in pregnancy

I'll spare you the details of the three day prelabor...suffice it to say, it was emotionally and physically trying, and had I not gotten enough rest, good positioning advice and encouragement, I might still be in labor. Really. My good friend reminded me on the phone that since I was contracting away with no progress, I might want to stick my bum in the air to try and dislodge and re-position the baby in my pelvis. BINGO!  I did get rest and the baby did turn, and so I went into labor on Sunday evening after a day of hip lunges, dinner with Barefoot Man and a couple of funny movies.

Around 9:3opm or so, it suddenly hit me that my contractions were actually growing more intense. A few minutes later, Robin Hood Men in Tights ceased to be even a tiny bit amusing. Suddenly, the hilarious men looked like ignorant buffoons who had no place in what was quickly becoming a sacred space. That was my cue to make phone calls! ;OP

I gripped the bookcase and swayed my hips through the next contraction, and as it eased, I told Barefoot to call our midwife and heat my rice sock. Through the next pressure wave, I leaned over the arm of the couch and wished my rice sock were already hot.

I retreated into the candlelit bedroom, and leaned forward through the next half hour of rushes, finally settling on my knees with my arms draped over the bed. I mused inwardly at the fact that I could feel the baby rotating downward through my pelvis, and the back pressure was intense! At that point, I realized I'd reached the point of no return. Ready or not, my baby was coming, and I needed to get to a place of release and surrender. A small amount of hesistation and fear crept in for a short while, and I didn't want to accept that I needed to change my physical position. I'd just stay on my knees forever!!

I was vaguely aware of front door opening down the hall, and of my MW calling hello softly, but I didn't look up. I was lost in a celtic drumbeat for the moment, still convincing myself that I could just hang out at the end of the bed forever.

rebozo aiding pendulous belly..amazing! 

Somewhere in the middle of half an hour in the draped on the bed position, the song "Everyone's got Something To Hide Except for Me and My Monkey" by the Beatles came on my iPod. Dh snorted and teased me for having such a weird song, and it broke my tension. I heard Michelle, the MW's apprentice giggle, too, and that did it. I laughed, and the endorphins from the fast guitar riffs and laughing with Nate saw me easily through that intense contraction.

After my first and only cervical check of that labor, Debi let me know I wasn't ready for the birth pool yet. Four centimeters. I was incredulous. I could feel my body speeding towards transition, and suspected they should fill the tub soon anyway. She suggested a hot shower (I suspect to coax me off my knees!), and I lept at the chance.

I spent 15 or 20 min in the shower, and being on my feet intensified the contractions. (Barefoot commented later that in the pics of me in the shower, you could tell by the shape of my belly that the baby descended quickly into my pelvis at that point!) Barefoot leaned halfway into the shower and braced his arm across the end of it for me to grip, and I squeezed his arm with my hands through the powerful waves, puffing a steady stream of air out of my cheeks. The feel of his sturdy, sinewy arm and the hot water pounding my back made standing up much more bearable. In the back of my mind, I knew I'd be complete soon, and got out of the shower sooner than I would have otherwise...I wanted hot water for my birth tub, lol! I shuffled my way back to the bedroom, and Michelle tied a red rebozo around my belly and encouraged me to stay vertical. It was at this point that I surrendered completely to the idea of meeting my baby soon, to opening my body to let my baby out. I became instinctual, and my thoughts were more like a consciousness hovering above my body than my own. My mind became an observer of my most primal instincts, and only interjected enough dialouge to inform my body on a "need to know" basis. :oP

For the next 45min, I gripped dh's hand and stood and swayed my way through powerful waves. I gripped Barefoot's fingers so hard, his normally pale strong Dutch knuckles turned an even more ghostly white. At one point, I called out, "Someone hold my other hand!!", and the instant I felt a strong, womanly hand in my own swollen left hand, the edgy fear left me.

I could feel my cervix stretching and quivering, and a voice that didn't sound like my own was making low, moaning sounds. My doula brain informed me that those were very "birthy" noises, and I smiled inwardly as I heard my MW chuckling in happy agreement somewhere across the room. She whispered, "Nate, go start up the hoses!" I suspected as much..and the water sounded GOOD. I was ready to meet my baby. I trembled all over, and stated the obvious: "I'm shaking."

I don't remember taking off my lounge pants. I remember feeling the heat of the water slither up my ankles, calves, and around my middle as I sank myself into the water. It took every ounce of courage I had to relax and accept the knowledge (gained from experience with my second birth) that I would soon be doing the hard work of pushing a new child into the light of the room.

My legs were in a weird position, but another rush had already started, and I heard the earthy voice shift from a low moan to a rumbly growl. Was I feeling push-y already? I gripped the handles of the pool, and fought the impulse to tighten my lower body in a fight against birth. I rested and breathed. I knew I'd be pushing with the next contraction.

I never asked for permission; when the next contraction came, I growled and pushed. As it peaked, I pushed HARDER, because pushing was the only relief that was to be found in that intense moment. I vaguely remember hearing Debi call, "That's it, girl, bring that baby down! Reach down and touch your baby!", but by the time I let go of the handle to feel, the rush was over. It made me mad, and it fueled my determination to hold her soon, lol. Come hell or high water, this babe was going to be BORN.

With the next contraction, I felt like a strong mother cougar, throwing a screaming growl into the night, fighting to bring my baby into the world. The feeling was so very intense. I could feel the baby crowning, but didn't dare to believe I could get her out this time. I pushed and growled in frustration, not realizing how CLOSE she was.

I did this for another contraction. And one more.

The next contraction, I was so very exausted, using up every last bit of energy I had in a mighty effort to push that little head OUT. I thought it would be stuck there forever. I stopped screaming and grunted and felt my face glowing with the effort, and finally gasped in air and yelled, "Oh, c'mon, get the frick OUT!!!!" (At least that's what I vaguely recall saying...both Nate and Debi have asserted that I actually dropped an F-bomb)

One last angry, determined push, and I heard the amazing words: "Head's out!!" I perked and happily pushed the rest of a slick body easily into the water, and was astounded at the big, healthy GIRL that landed on the top of my now-puffy belly.

Barefoot's face was streaming tears. I hadn't seen him cry that freely since our wedding. And she was lovely. So very lovely, and I was completely exhausted. She stared at me, stunned and alert, but not wanting to take the first breath. I felt a bit stunned, too. The MW puffed a breath into her mouth and rubbed her back, and she began to cry. I was relieved, and so, so tired. I had to be coaxed to push out the placenta, lol. I was happy to just sit there, grinned dumbly and blissfully, and listening to Nate mumur contently to himself, "I knew she was a girl!"

I was so in awe, and so exhausted. Hello, new life! 

At 1:16am, Grace was born, 9lbs, and 22inches. And we were in love. <3 I retained a bit of placenta, which wasn't fun, but a manual retrieval (yowch!) and lots of greens and chlorophyll and floradix set me right again, eventually, and it was a pretty spectacular babymoon, all in all.

sweet MW's apprentice, M, weighing Grace! 

Home visit

I had my home visit from my midwife yesterday. I do love her.

You've got to love a lady who's full of faith enough to pray with you, and not so uptight that she can't cackle in amusement when you let a colorful word slip in response to her latest outrageous birth story, and then blush in realization...and sigh with relief when you realize you won't be put on the spiritual doo-doo list because of it. :P AND, she put my cranky, snotty 2yo down for a nap. Gotta love that. :D

My baby's LOT position, which isn't half bad for this late in the game! I'll take it. I was secretly pleased to have my personal opinion of his/her postion confirmed by a second and third guesstimate. (Her MW in training took a whack at it, too, and drew the same conclusion.)

(baby position chart from Spinning Babies...left occiput transverse; a short turn from being optimal. A few good weeks of decent birth ball posture should have us all set!)

My BP was initially a wee bit higher than usual (for me), until she encouraged me to stop talking 100mph. *blush* I sat back, snuggled my 2yo and they giggled at me trying SO hard not to talk for a minute, and my systollic magically went down to 120. I'll take it. For whatever reason, I was especially high strung yesterday about having visitors...it was nice to get a fair do-over.

I laughed at the timing of the arrival of my birth kit...I had just trekked to the bathroom with my pee cup in hand, while discussing what I still had on my "to do" list for the birth, when the doorbell rang and my MW accepted the birth kit box from our mailman for me. Whoohoo!

Now, all that's left is emergency pitocin, a birth pool liner (hopefully, for the La Bassine, as I prefer the squishy sides to the rigid sides of the aqua doula, I think), and a bottle of celebratory champagne and an ice cream cake for the "Birth Day Party" afterwards. Thankfully, my MW owns both the Aquadoula and the La Bassine, so all we have to purchase is the $20 or so liner. AND, it comes with it's own hoses and pump, so no one is left siphoning water with a garden hose out back, leaving the neighbors to wonder WHAT sort of crazy, kinky things we DO in our home. Straight into the tub the water goes, and cleanup is super easy. Gotta love that.

And, now, finally, I leave you with the best baby cake ever. I love me some Cake Wrecks.

The Waterbirth of Lark

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.