Our slow morning continued and I thought to myself, if this is going to be the “slow build” kind of labor then let’s get outside because it could be awhile. Once Moses woke up we put him in the stroller and went out for Como Lake. It was the perfect day-breezy and sunny. I had to stop here and there for contractions, but nothing painful yet. We walked halfway around the lake and veered off the path to look at flowers and then bring Moses to a park. To my joy, Patrick and Moses played and laughed while I rested on bench, waiting for contractions. At this point I had to stand up and lean over the bench to breath through them-but they still weren’t as powerful as what I had with Moses right away. As my contractions grew in strength we decided to start the mile and a half walk home.
We had to stop a lot more frequently on the way back for me to put my hands on my knees and breath deeply through the contractions. I was surprised that my labor was starting slow and steady like this, and also enjoying the fact that I was outside with my family, and could distract myself with nature. How lovely, I thought, to look over a shiny lake and feel the breeze on my skin as I experienced a contraction. How interesting, I thought, were ants on the ground and the clovers under my feet. The most interesting contraction distraction was at the fields, where a Bald Eagle was being rehabilitated and flying with a string attached to it’s foot. That’s a sight to behold whether in labor or not!
About two blocks from our home I had about 3 contractions in a row, and at this point we decided to call our midwives to come to our house. It was around 11:30am. Moses thankfully fell asleep as we made our way into our yard, and after we went inside I got to curl up with him in our bed a few moments before I couldn’t take a contraction laying down anymore.
The next three hours was where it got intense. Midwives arrived and got busy preparing our home for delivery. Tub was set up in our living room and starting to fill. Contractions grew and no longer could I stay quiet-as it turns out I’m a loud “laborer”. My legs were shaking as I rested my head on the side of the bed and swayed my hips. Sleep overcame me in between contractions. These were big contractions and I wondered how long I had to go. It was around noon. I hoped to be done by 3pm.
Eventually the tub was ready...and blessed was that tub. I couldn’t stand standing any longer. I didn’t want to be in my bed. I didn’t want to be in the bathroom (where with Moses that was my birthing sanctuary!) That beautiful, beautiful tub welcomed me and all the vigor of my contracting body that followed. My doula skills really came in handy-I coached myself and talked myself through the irrational thoughts. Many things ran through my head:this is why people get epidurals! This is why people cry out for C-Sections! This is why people give up! Can I really have more kids? Can I do this again? Am I insane?? This is the most pain I’ve ever been in! On the outside I’m not saying a word. I’m drinking gatorade that Patrick offers. I’m taking a spoonful of honey. Sounds come out of me during a contraction that can only be described as primal. I reach down to see if there is progress-I feel my bag of waters just like with Moses. Things must be closer. I am encouraged. My body position shifts. My contractions get harder. I am sweating. I am sleeping in between contractions. All of a sudden I am awake to the moment-completely alert. I open my eyes. I look outside at the beautiful, sunny day. I don’t feel any pain-just clarity. Thankfulness to be in my home. Thankful for this afternoon baby. I recognize this moment as I’ve seen it in other women. The baby is coming out very soon.
All of a sudden it happens-the familiar shock of pain that runs through my body as she is ready to emerge. My insides will split open, my bones will break, everything is burning. No, I tell myself, this is the end and you can do it. I don’t want to tear so I take it slow. I slow my breath. I start to pant. Too fast...dial it back and breath slowly they say. She’s right there-you can do it-everyone says. Patrick is ready to help catch our baby girl. I am ready not to tear. I wait. I deliver her head, Patrick says she was still in her waters-then it breaks. A flood of relief washes over me. I ask if I can wait a few breaths to deliver her body. Yes. Breathe, breathe. I deliver her body and help grab my baby and bring her to my chest. An incredible joy of relief and pride overcomes me. She is practically white with vernix. It is 3 minutes to 3pm.
Too much blood is coming-my midwives quickly realized her cord broke from her body. They worked quickly to clamp it off. I hand her to Patrick, they get me out of the tub and on the couch. Patrick gives her back to me and they tie her cord with a string. I deliver my placenta with ease. They want her to cry, she only whimpers. I rub her back. I kiss her head. I am elated. I’m holding my baby girl, I just endured the most incredible feat of strength of my entire life, and I’m in my own home looking out at bright red and yellow flowers in my window sill. I can sense the midwives working quickly and with urgency, and I trust them. They are doing everything to make sure baby is okay and I am okay.
We find out her cord was very short-about 10 inches shorter than the average length. This is why I was in transition for so long. This is why her cord snapped upon pushing her out. This was a rare occurrence that my midwives have only seen once before. Birth is such a mystery. Every story is so different.
But all is well. She cried out. She nursed right away. She is perfect. 8lbs 4ounces of beautiful baby girl. This is our Athena Love.
