So. Here goes. A year after Scarlet's birth. Her birth story. Warning: it's lengthy.
This
third pregnancy caught me off guard. I have to be honest that it
began in a place of dismay. It wasn’t that pregnancy and birth
weren’t on my mind—I’d just completed my doula training and had
been so excited to begin attending births. Knowing I’d have a
newborn in a few short months felt like being yanked back into the
house again. I knew I’d spend a couple of months being miserably
sick, and that my doula-dreams would be limited in the immediate
future. Then I had a talk with my husband that lifted my heart—I
came to realize that going through my own experience with natural
birth would help me be a more effective, more empathetic doula. I
would have my own memories and strength to build on instead of just
philosophy. I began to see this pregnancy part of the fulfillment of
my hope to empower women, not robbing me of those experiences.
I
endured the wintry months and the wintry feelings (and pukey
feelings) until they gave way to excitement and wonder. Finding out
that I was carrying a girl brought new energy. I was having a girl! A
GIRL! Part of me had fully expected to have all boys. On both sides
of my family, boys are abundant and girls a rarity. “I only make
boys,” I used to joke. Deep down I had a sweet secret dream for a
daughter, but I buried it, not wanting to get my hopes up. When the
tech announced the gender, it didn’t make sense and I almost didn’t
quite believe it until I had another ultrasound that confirmed it. I
was so used to boy names, boy sounds, boy toys and boy clothes
littering the house, the thought of planning and buying clothes for a
little girl made me giddy. I thought, I can put bows in her hair! I
looked forward to seeing my husband David being gentle and
compassionate with a daughter. When I think of that tenderness in
contrast with the kids he works with, the damaged children without
kind parents, it felt exciting. I wanted this new child, this little
girl to feel secure and loved and cared for. I wanted that sweetness
to belong to her.
Our
big issue while planning for the birth was finances. We at first
considered that it might be easier financially to birth in the
hospital. I’d had my other children there before I had my
“awakening” and although they were not particularly positive, I
hadn’t had traumatic, awful experiences as some women had. I hemmed
and hawed and chewed over the dilemma. The person who finally
convinced me was my brother, the accountant. He crunched the numbers
with me and determined that at the very least, birthing at home or in
the hospital would cost the same for us—and, he explained, chances
are that in the hospital I might want an epidural; that and other
intervention could add to the cost. I liked being pampered in the
hospital, I liked the attention and calling the nurse, having
everyone come visit. Slowly that stopped mattering. After attending
both home and hospital births as a doula, I couldn’t imagine
laboring in that antiseptic environment. Harsh, cold, bright. The
thought of laboring at home surrounded by everything I know that is
comfortable was more compelling. I witnessed birth after birth and I
saw how effective doulas were. I knew I was going to have a lot of
support, a lot of people who would know how to help me. Hypnobirthing
helped with my mental transition, too—I could let go of what my
conception of “pain” had been and just experience it as
intensity.
I
was immediately drawn to my midwife, Lisa Pugh. She was incredibly
warm, and I liked her energy. I felt comfortable and calm with her.
Once I made the decision to birth at home, the whole pregnancy became
a blur. Because we were building an addition to our home, I was busy
every day cleaning and pulling up carpet and floorboards and tack
stripes and renovating as well as taking care of my boys. At the same
time, my body was working hard, putting the finishing touches on our
other “new addition.” I kept scraping wallpaper, cleaning,
designing, and praying I wouldn’t go into labor before we were
finished, all through the months of September and October.
I
attended a birth two days before my baby was born. It solidified that
I wanted a home birth, and I was so glad not to be going to the
hospital. I kept thinking that the mom could do this so much more
easily if she weren’t surrounded by beeping and loud noises and
bossy nurses who told her “Don’t you dare get out of that bed!”
She was never left alone. I remember aching for her, thinking, if
only she could be left alone without interference, she could discover
what she’s made of. The hospital gives an easy out. I’d made the
right decision for this birth.
The
night next, Laura (my sister-in-law and one of my doulas) came over to do a fear release with Wendy (another sister-in-law and doula) and some
other birthy friends visited—it was relaxing and fun. We never got
around to the fear release, but some positive energy must have
reached me somehow, because the next morning, November 5, I woke up
with a backache. As I became conscious, it slowly ebbed away, and my
groggy thoughts were, okay, am I in labor or…? It was definitely
coming and going, very mild back labor. I decided to get some more
sleep. It was not intense, but it was enough to keep me awake. I
didn’t want to tell David yet because I wanted him to rest, too—he
had a lot of work ahead of him, just like I did! He did wake up
eventually to get one of the boys, and I told him to cancel work that
day.
We
went through the motions of our morning routine with the boys, since
I could tell things were still really early. I created my birth
soundtrack. It was a playlist of songs that seemed soothing and
captured the “right” emotions for this labor. It wasn't until later that I realized I had chosen mellow,
mostly female voices--Sara Barrellis, the soundtrack to Pride and
Predjudice, Imogen Heap, Enya.. Throughout the morning I was very
calm, able to interact with the boys and other people coming in and
out of the house as the surges continued. I texted my mother and my
phalanx of doulas (Wendy, Laura, Sarah, Erin, etc) to let them know
where I was, and not to come over yet since I was still in really
early labor. My mother and Sarah bounded over at the ready and seemed
disappointed by my lack of urgency. They left, and then returned
around 2 PM, when “things started to pick up” as they always say.
Laura and Wendy did a fear release with me and I slept through most
of it. I was trying to focus on my relaxation techniques, releasing
tension. Every time I felt a surge, I would visualize something that
would help me remain focused. My favorite visualization was me
running towards a huge wave and letting it crash into me while
thinking all right, bring it! It’s gonna be huge, ride it out and
it’s gonna feel awesome. That image helped me remind myself, the
surge is going to be big, but I will be on top of it and it’s going
to rule!
Things
get a little blurry from then on out. The intensity increased, with
back labor and normal surges alternating. Baby girl was moving,
trying to get in a good position. For most of the afternoon I lay down.
Laura and Wendy had me lay down in the extended sims position. I
loved that because it made my back labor go away. What I loved most
about this time was that Laura, Wendy, Julia and Sarah somehow
intuitively knew when I was surging although I wasn’t making any
noise. They sat with me quietly, always right there to do massage and
counter pressure. They were attuned to me during that time, with
wordless, silent assistance and kind hands. In between surges, they
stroked my hair and relaxed me. Someone was touching me at all times.
I was trying to keep my mind clear and focus on the relaxation.
Pushing the intense feelings away. Getting lost within the
sensations. David hooked up the music and that was so welcome. Either
Laura or Wendy suggested I change positions and I wanted to sit cross
legged on the floor. Around this time things were getting even more
intense. It felt like a wave of pressure squeezing me and everything
was so tight. I couldn’t control anything that was happening, I
just had to surrender to it. Around that time I started singing along
with the music. I remembered watching a woman sing on a birth video and tried it.
I sang “Gravity” and “The moment I said it.” Laura and
sometimes David were singing with me, harmonizing and singing softly
along with me. Singing helped me release tension and emotions. I loved it. I got lost in the harmony, the instruments, the surges, the voices. Around that time, I started getting a buzz of endorphins and
I felt like I wanted to marry everybody in the room. I was swimming
in love for everyone, I was dizzy and woozy. This was the "birth high" I'd heard so much about! I couldn’t wait for
the next surge to come so I could get another flood of that feeling!
Lisa
arrived and checked me; I was at a 5. She went out of the room and
told Wendy and Laura that I was at a 5 but “super rigid.” She
suggested that a little something (or a little somethin’ somethin’)
to soften the cervix couldn’t hurt. Wendy came in and although I
was “surging out of my mind” she ordered me to spend some quality
alone time with my husband. Then everyone left and went to lunch. I
was overwhelmed but intrigued by this idea. I’d never envisioned
myself as the type of birther who passionately makes out with her
husband during labor, but when I first started having kids I’d
never imagined having an unmedicated birth at home, either, so why
not go for it? I was determined, but hesitant. David saw this as a
natural extension of his duties as birth partner and nobly stepped up
to the plate.
Making out during surges wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever,
but I became so obsessed with kissing my husband in my vulnerable
state. It was so warm and loving. He was so sweet to me and I was so
crazy about him, and only a little embarrassed that everyone at lunch
was probably speculating about us.
We
must have created some potent endorphins, because very quickly, my
labor became much stronger and I panicked because I’d been left
alone. Where was everyone? The next couple of surges were a little
scary because I had a tiny bit of fear creeping in. I didn't think I could do it without all my supporters. My "wood nymphs". David was holding
my hands and talking me through it. Suddenly Sarah showed up and
rushed in. She sat down behind me, grabbed me and pulled me in really
tightly, like a full body hug, and that grounded me again. I was so relieved! I thought,
I’m not alone in this! She held me so I wouldn’t fall apart.
There was something powerful about her just having birthed Karina a
couple of months before, and I was her doula then, something tender
between us. Women should help women birth.
People
started to file in. At another point soon after, I was leaning over
the birth ball and uncontrollably shaking and crying. Julia or Erin
said "is she okay?" someone answered "That’s transition." "She’s crying!" "Yeah, that’s
transition." I had the endorphin buzz again but was still crying and
shaking really hard. I remember thinking, oh dear, things are getting
really intense. I’m hanging on. Crying felt so amazing, a cleansing
release of whatever I had been holding back. David kept trying to get
me to eat and was annoyed that I could not have been less interested
in eating. He brought me salads and smoothies and ice cream and
honey. From my perception, I thought I was eating a ton and wanted
him to stop shoving stuff down my throat; he was worried because I
wasn’t eating more and wanted to ensure I didn’t starve. Cutie.
My
memory gets even fuzzier from here on out, but I was aware of them
filling up the tub in my bedroom. The thought of lifting my foot over the edge gave
me anxiety. I sort of lost touch with reality at that point and lived
in the moment and tried to handle whatever was coming. I managed to
get in the tub, and David got in with me. I thought, what’s he
doing? We hadn’t talked about it, I was little alarmed but then
very relieved he was there shortly after that. I felt the warmth of
the water relaxing me a little more.
Doula hands. Lisa, my midwife is at the far right.
Soon,
the water was too hot. I got so hot, someone got a cold cloth and
David would place it on my back, then take it off and blow on my
skin. That was the most amazing thing of my life at the time. Lisa asked if I
wanted to be checked again and the thought was unacceptable. I
couldn’t stand it. She never pressured me, I said no and that was
okay. I loved that. I knew I’d get hung up on the number if it
wasn’t what I wanted it to be. I lost track, I started feeling like
I needed to die and someone needed to do it for me. No one could, I
knew I had to do it, I felt disparaged. I screamed "Lisa help me! Get
it out! Take over for a minute!" When I think about it even now it takes my
breath away, how I was almost suffocating in those surges. I was
making lots of noises. Moaning, ohhhmming, David would join in
occasionally on a harmonic note, the vibrations connected us, and I
could focus on that instead of the intensity. Occasionally a note of
desperation would leak through, but there was always someone there to
ground me and bring me back. Laura said “This is going to be really
big, just let it be big, accept that feeling.” During all this,
they were constantly at my sides, kissing my face and stroking my
hair. I felt carried, understood, deeply loved. There was one point
where I managed to make a joke. Laura mentioned that her back was
hurting and I said “Oh Laura does your back really hurt? I bet
you’re really uncomfortable aren’t you?” Everyone laughed and I
felt proud of myself for being able to recognize humor. Someone
joked, “Oh Laurel, you’re still with us!”
I
never really felt the pushing urge. Even with an epidural during my
boys’ births, I had felt that urge intensely and unmistakably. I
think at that point in this birth, I needed something different to
concentrate on than just enduring the surges. So I started pushing,
and it was difficult to know if I was even doing it right. I was not
processing a lot, just very suggestible. I became desperate and
frantic, I checked the station of the baby on my own and she felt so far away,
to my knuckle. I’m not making any progress! It was maddening. She
was still so far away. Second knuckle. It wasn’t close enough; I
still had so far to go. Suddenly, her head shot through like a
cannonball, the most intense pressure I’d ever felt, then
I felt like I needed to push. I heard someone shrieking a high
pitched shriek and it took me a moment to realize it was coming from
me. It was so primal and instinctive. Laura said later, it was like
my butt was screaming out of my throat.
Her
head was out of the birth canal, resting briefly between the bones
and the skin (which was the craziest thing! Everyone said they’d
never seen that happen before.). I felt that instant stinging and I
knew if I pushed as hard as I wanted to that I would tear, so I
panted and held back until Lisa said I could push again. Then the
head was finally out. It would be smooth sailing from here, right?
Her shoulders were still inside. Lisa told me to push to get the
shoulders out and I couldn’t believe what she was suggesting, I
thought she was insane. Just pull her head, just get her out!
Suddenly the shoulders were out and I felt an immense relief.
When
the baby came out I was almost confused. I looked at this slippery,
squishy, purple-faced person little person, and it seemed impossible
that she was really here, this was my baby girl. My little girl. I’ve
had babies before, but I’ve never been that intimate with them
right away because both my sons were taken away from me so quickly.
It was too much to comprehend. All I could do was mumble, “She’s
here, she’s here!” I could barely hold her up out of the water. I
was so exhausted, but at the same time I felt amazing. Did I just do
that? Did that really just happen? Did I really just birth a baby in
a tub in my bedroom, with no drugs?
The whole day seemed like a miracle: the singing, the making out, Sarah holding me from behind, my loving, knowledgeable doulas Laura and Wendy, everyone who came and stayed for hours and hours, loving me, consoling me, cheering me on and breathing hope into me when I doubted. I couldn’t believe it. I needed a minute to process what had just happened and I felt offended when they told me to push out the placenta. Are you kidding me? How dare you ask this of me! With a little effort (and more than a little whining from me) The placenta was born, and Lisa made the comment that it was really heavy. Getting out of the tub was so hard, I felt like I had no muscles. I was a floppy ghoul girl; I was so weak and spent. I crawled on the bed to rest and my sister Erin lay behind me to hold me up. The baby nursed instantly and was very calm from the moment she was born.
While I was resting and getting examined (No tearing!!), I started to hemmorhage a little, so Lisa gave me a shot of pitocin to clamp down my uterus to stop the bleeding. Sarah brought me a homemade fresh mint milkshake and my mom brought me some bottled fruit. It was some of the most delicious tasting food I'd ever had.
The whole day seemed like a miracle: the singing, the making out, Sarah holding me from behind, my loving, knowledgeable doulas Laura and Wendy, everyone who came and stayed for hours and hours, loving me, consoling me, cheering me on and breathing hope into me when I doubted. I couldn’t believe it. I needed a minute to process what had just happened and I felt offended when they told me to push out the placenta. Are you kidding me? How dare you ask this of me! With a little effort (and more than a little whining from me) The placenta was born, and Lisa made the comment that it was really heavy. Getting out of the tub was so hard, I felt like I had no muscles. I was a floppy ghoul girl; I was so weak and spent. I crawled on the bed to rest and my sister Erin lay behind me to hold me up. The baby nursed instantly and was very calm from the moment she was born.
While I was resting and getting examined (No tearing!!), I started to hemmorhage a little, so Lisa gave me a shot of pitocin to clamp down my uterus to stop the bleeding. Sarah brought me a homemade fresh mint milkshake and my mom brought me some bottled fruit. It was some of the most delicious tasting food I'd ever had.
After I was cleaned up, Zackary was sent in to see his little sister for the first time. He looked so excited and awestruck. I'm glad my friend and insanely talented friend, Katie was there to capture that moment. He kissed her and touched her and excitedly said "She has her own bones!!" Someone asked him what her name was, and he announced "Scarlet" (although we didn't settle on that name for sure for about a week. Zack knew).
Total labor was 15 hours, 6 active. Scarlet weighed in at 10 lbs, 4 oz., 21 inches long, 14 inch head. My recovery was very quick and if I was to have another baby, I would without question do it at home again. I found what I was made of that day, and it surprised me. This birth was much more intense, beautiful, powerful, difficult, and emotional that I could have ever known. I'm forever changed because of it.
*All photographs courtesy of Katherine Loveless www.katherineloveless.com
