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October 5, 2002
So there I was, about 4:30am, grinning like a crazy woman. May 27th, Memorial Day (right, not Labor Day as I mistakenly said in a previous entry. Well, sort of a labor day, but in a different sense...)
In my last weeks of pregnancy, I had spent many an hour trying to get someone (someone, anyone!) to explain to me in detail exactly what a contraction would feel like. Every woman I talked to tried in vain to describe it. A few said things like "well, it sort of feels like cramps, but much worse......and well, it really doesn't feel like cramps." Very helpful, thanks. So I swore that I would REMEMBER and I would find a way to accurately describe the feeling of a contraction. But nope, I can't. I've tried.
So, I had a contraction and immediately KNEW. This is IT. I was the happiest woman alive. I got up, went downstairs and baked chocolate chip cookies.
We took birthing classes (6 weeks of them, once a week) from Penny Simkin. A wonderful, amazing woman and advocate of natural childbirth, and a founder of DONA (Doulas of North America). I highly recommend doing a google search with her name and reading up on her. She's up there on my list of favorites, along with my midwives. But I digress--so I made chocolate chip cookies because Penny had recommended having some sort of "project" during the long hours of early labor. I really dislike baking, so making chocolate chip cookies amounts to a "project" for me.
I hunted down my stopwatch, and timed a few contractions. 5 minutes apart-? Is that possible, I wondered-? They remained 3 to 5 minutes apart, but they weren't uncomfortable (just a tightening sensation) so I went about my baking.
It was a beautiful spring morning. I read my book (Poisonwood Bible,which will always hold a special place in my heart--"the book I read while in labor"...ahh) in my glider. The sun slowly rose and the sky changed from dusky gray to rose to sepia to pale blue. Describing the changing sky, from dusk to dawn, is a hallmark of sentimental writing, and not very original of me. But the changing sky was so true to those moments, sitting in the glider, looking out the window watching the sun rise and knowing that I was going to meet my baby that day. It was so peaceful and serene.
The contractions continued to come 5 minutes apart (almost to the minute), but I was able to manage them easily. When a contraction began, I would lean over (forward), breathe deeply, let it ebb and subside, and then go on with my reading. At 6:30 I took a shower and then woke Mike up. I went in the bedroom and kissed him and said, "I think we're going to meet our baby today." I'll never ever forget the big sleepy smile that crept across his face. It was very unlike the sitcom scene of husband jumping out of bed in a panic. Mike just looked at me very peacefully and his smile said it all.
Mike got up and showered while I walked around the house and cleaned up a bit (the cookies were now cooling on racks--what a domestic goddess I was that morn). When Mike got out of the shower, we timed some contraction and by then they were 7-10 minutes apart. Boo hiss. I was ready to get this show on the road, and slowing contractions were not what I had in mind.
I called our midwife, henceforth known as Wendy. She was at another birth ("of course she's at another birth," thought I with feigned amusement) but told me to just keep checking in and to try taking a bath. Well, if you've been paying attention, you'll remember that I had just gotten out of the shower AND didn't want to slow things down, so I stayed away from the tub.
Mike & I hemmed and hawed around the house for awhile. What to do, what to do. Frankly, I was getting a bit bored with these lazy contractions and was ready for some real action. We pondered going for a walk at Greenlake (3 mile round trip) but Mike, the sage advisor, reminded me why that might not be such a good idea (get trapped halfway around in hard labor...). Smart man.
So we went for a walk down the block. Yowzer. That really made the contractions stronger. They had moved back up to 3-5 mins apart, but up until the walk, they were pretty manageable. We got about 2 blocks away when I had a little panic attack (OUCH!)and wanted to get home. Got home and decided to get in the bath. While Mike drew a bath, I sat on the birth ball awhile, which was really nice. Somewhere in this, we called Wendy again, who scolded me for not getting in the tub earlier.
Into the warm bath I went, and it felt great. Wendy felt that the bath would help determine "where I was at." Well, it really didn't slow things down. They remained 3-5 minutes apart, but continued getting stronger.
I think I stayed in the tub about 30 mins or so. Mike had a cup and was pouring warm water over my back, which felt sooo good.
I found myself leaning forward with every contraction, and moaning through them. As one would come, I would lightly breath, and then eventually moan through the worst part. I also found myself counting them out. It seemed like 13 was the magic number--the peak- and then I could count on it going back down. Mike was counting with me too, which really helped keep me focused.
He was so great about helping me keep a rhythm with my breathing/moaning/counting.
Some time after I had gotten out of the bath, Wendy called and at that point Mike had to talk to her; I wouldn't get on the phone. She listened to me in the background through a contraction and decided we should meet her at the birth center. It was about noon. Wendy had to leave the other birth she was at, because I appeared to be progressing more quickly.
Things get a bit fuzzy for me at this point...I don't really remember getting ready to go, and I don't remember much of the car ride either. I do recall looking out the window at one point, and thinking how strange that this gentleman in the car next to me was just going about his day, not realizing that a miracle was in progress in the car right next to him!
The birth center is about 15 minutes from our house. By the time we got there, I was really in pain. Wendy checked me and I was only 3cm....and suddenly I was VERY upset. I kept insisting that I needed to go to the hospital; that I couldnt do it, couldn't handle the pain. I think somewhere in my mind I associated going to the birth center with having the baby, so I was expecting to be farther along when we got there--and was crushed when I wasnt.
Wendy & Mike & Melissa (the student midwife) were very encouraging and listened to me (made me feel like they were hearing me--very important to a crazy, emotional woman in labor). They asked me if I would mind trying a few things first, and if I didn't feel better, we would go to the hospital. They got me in the nice big jacuzzi tub, lit several candles, dimmed the lights, and I felt much better. They tried to put on some music, but I protested. I wanted QUIET. And so they began a day of tiptoeing around me...
Anyhoo, I got a hold of my emotions (i.e the panic subsided a bit) but also feel like that was the point I went into the "zone." I was less focused on the fact that I was in pain, and went into a zone, letting my body take over. Looking back on it, I realize how incredible that is--how intuitive the body and mind are in labor.
So from that time forward, I don't really remember details. I know I mainly labored in the tub, but also some on the toilet and a bit on the bed. Mike was with me the entire time. He had a small buffet of items with him, and he had to continually offer me this menu of choices--PowerBar? No. Yogurt? No. Water? No. Gatorade? Yes. Cool washcloth? No... Etc. etc. He was my source of support and I drew strength and comfort from him.
"Time" is a strange concept in labor. Its odd to look back on it now; the way the hours just melted together and my awareness of time ceased to exist. What I do remember is a sense of calm. The room was quiet and serene, with dim lights, candles flickering, and three caring people around me, attending to my every need. I felt very safe and very loved.
My position of choice was leaning back in the tub, then leaning forward during a contraction. I continued to breath and count through them. Mike says he that there were a couple of times that I didnt count through them, and he could see me "losing it." As soon as we got back the counting rhythm, I was able cope and get through it. He also says that it amazed him that I was so quiet; that aside from my whispered counting and quiet moaning, I was almost silent and withdrawn inside myself. I would love to say that I was having grand notions of being in touch with all women in the world through time, but I must admit....I don't remember thinking anything at all. In fact, I don't think I was thinking at all.
At some point I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to push. It really scared me. I looked at Wendy (with panic in my eyes, I'm sure) and told her. She checked me and said "getting close, but you're nto quite there yet." She told me to try little grunting pushes & breathe through it when I felt the urge, but don't push hard. Once I got the hang of the little mini pushes, it wasn't such a scary sensation.
At about 5pm Wendy checked me and said that I was 10cm. I remember thinking that she said it so casually: "OK, you're at 10 centimeters, so whenever you feel the urge to push, go ahead." I wanted to scream "10 CENTIMETERS???? THIS IS HUGE!!!!!!!!!!!" But I didn't. I think I just turned to Mike for a bite of yogurt before we got into this pushing thing.
I decided to try pushing on the toilet for awhile, but that was more painful and I said a few choice words during those contractions that I'm glad weren't recorded. Mike started cracking up because I was swearing and he had to leave the room to stop laughing. I had been so quiet and then suddenly I busted out with "OH F*&$!"
We tried several positions for pushing--on the bed, hands & knees, side lying, then they hooked up this birthing hammock thing that you kind of squat/lean into, but I didnt like that. Back into the tub, but that also wasnt quite right. Tried the birth stool, but I didnt like that.
I don't remember pushing being a relief. I mean, when I had the urge, it felt good, but I didnt get this huge sensation of relief that I've heard people talk about. Mostly it HURT!
Wendy said that she felt I was being most productive in the side lying position so we tried that again. That is how I birthed her. I think I pushed in that position for about 45 mins and Mike knelt on the side of the bed and stayed in my face the whole time. I remember being so thankful that he was right there and I could look into his eyes. It made me feel very safe.
They (the midwives) didn't direct my pushing at all. It was totally up to me and my body, and at some point during that last side-lying part, I finally felt like I really got the hang of it, and then suddenly I could feel her moving down. That was such an incredible sensation....I could FEEL her moving down inside of me. I felt very connected at that point, and also knew birth was imminent. At some point they used compresses on my peri, which felt great and also helped me to push towards that.
I vaguely recall the "rim of fire" sensation when she was crowning; it was a painful bulging sensation, very weird but also incredible b/c I knew that was my baby! Mike was talking to me and telling me he could see her head. They asked me if I wanted to look, but I really couldn't even open my eyes at that point, let alone move to look at her. I just wanted to get her OUT!
At 6:22pm, Hana Margaret McFarlane was born. I don't remember this, but Mike said I leaned down immediately and grabbed her! He was surpised b/c I had always said I wanted them to clean the baby off first. :)
She was beautiful; perfect in every way. I remember looking into her eyes and we knew each other. I don't know how to explain it in any other way. We both looked at each other, and we just knew each other.
Ten figures, ten toes. Everything was right and good. The midwives asked what her name was and Mike & I looked at each other and both said "Hana." We hadn't 100% decided prior to her birth, but we both just knew; she was Hana.
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I need to go rescue that beautiful babe from her crib soon, so I will post the post- birth story next time.
But before I go, I would like to say a few words about natural birth. This is my opinion, and I certainly don't expect everyone to agree with me, nor do I feel there is a right or wrong way to give birth. Please know that I only know my own experience, and I am happy & proud. But certainly not righteous.
That said, I am thrilled that I gave birth to Hana with no drugs and no interventions. People say things like "its not like you're going to win a medal," or "why experience the pain when you don't have to?"
But for me, it has nothing to do with "accomplishment" or with pain. I just feel that interventions are unnecessary and are often times a hindrance to the body's natural ability to birth. Every time I say "painful" or "pain," it just doesn't seem quite right. There needs to be another word in our vocabulary for the sensations of birth. Yes, it is painful, but its so much more than pain. The pain is a byproduct of the overall experience, and it is instructive--not what the experience is defined by (see Jeanette's birth story on Babies Today for a more eloquent description than I can write right now).
I would not trade my experience of Hana's birth for anything in the world. I feel that drugs would have altered and colored the experience. I also feel that my body naturally knew how to cope. I said I went into a zone, and it is true. It was other-worldly and very surreal. It was such a TRUE and natural and miraculous experience, and I am elated and proud that I was so completely present in it, and in every sensation.
With that, I must go save my waking girl from the confines of her crib.
Until next time,
Jessica
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