Eve's Birth Story

Believe it or not, this is a shortened version of  Eve's birth story.  It's important to me to begin this blog with her birth story because it was her beginning that prompted this beginning of writing.  If you don't have a strong cup of coffee and loads of extra time, I'll give you the super short version: I had her at home.  Yes, on purpose.  My labor took a total of 4 hours. Yes it hurt.  Yes, I have started to forget exactly how much already.  No, I did not have pain medication.  Yes, I know I do not get an award for that.  Yes, I would do it again.  Yes, when she landed on my chest I felt a depth of love and the delight of motherhood I didn't quite grasp with my first child's birth.  Yes, she is the answer to my what-the-heck wish on my 30th birthday candles.  Yes, I love her more than this birth story could ever relay.  A million times over.

Friday, July 31st, 2009 began as a cool, pleasant morning compared to the 100+ degree heat we’d been having all summer. I was 39 weeks, 6 days at that point. and becoming entirely too impatient for Eve’s arrival. My brother was getting married out of town the next weekend and I was bound and determined to have our baby and be there. I had actually talked to my midwife, Laurie, about the possibility of natural induction techniques at my 39 week appointment a few days before. She offered her education on the matter and left it up to me, but encouraged me to have faith in the wisdom of my body and assured me that Eve’s timing, whenever it was, would be right. After careful thought, I opted to forgo the induction and decided to just honor my baby’s right to come when it was her time to come, even if it wasn’t mine. Turns out I didn’t have to wait long, and Laurie couldn’t have been more wise. Eve’s timing was perfect, incredibly perfect.

It was a beautiful day out so Emery (then 20 months old) and I decided to go on our usual morning walk followed by a swim at the pool with our neighbor friends. At around 8:30 am, I noticed that the baby wasn’t moving much and that my Braxton Hicks contractions were stronger than before. Still, I had experienced false labor the week before and thought maybe the stronger contractions (still irregular) were due to my long, fast walk, so on we went with our day.

Around 1pm, I noticed I was still having contractions and that they were coming closer together so I timed a few. They were somewhere in the 5-7 min range, completely tolerable, and I wondered if I was having very early labor that would last to the next day (like Emery’s). I figured I might have the baby on Saturday, her due date, but I wasn’t going to get excited because of the false labor episode from before.

I decided to wait it out until I knew for sure, but I called Cristian, and gave him the heads up that I was having contractions and that maybe he shouldn’t stay at work late today as he mentioned he might. What I didn’t know then was that my little brother, who had come to eat lunch with me, called Cristian and told him that I looked different.  He came home immediately.

3 pm came and the contractions continued to get closer together. They were easy to tolerate, nothing more than a big squeeze every 2 and a half minutes or so, and I was still talking through them and doing housework. They were only lasting 45 seconds so I still didn’t know if this was the real thing. It felt almost exactly like the false labor the week before, so I imagine that’s why I was so hesitant to believe I was in true labor. Deep down, I suppose I knew this was it, though I didn’t say it out loud, but I certainly imagined we had lots of time, perhaps even a day’s worth. I never expected labor to unfold as quickly as it did.

At 3:30, I called Laurie. She listened to me talk through a few contractions and since I continued to be able to talk uninterrupted through them, she advised me to touch base with her in another hour unless things changed.

3:45: Still not knowing what was ahead, we decided to take Emery to our neighbor and friend, Cris’s house where I knew she would be in good hands. I got a little emotional as she left hanging on Cristian’s shoulder grinning ear to ear with excitement for her play date. It was the last moment of just us three. I wondered how on earth I could love another just as much as I loved this one little girl.
3:50 I decided to take a shower both for relaxation purposes and because I needed one. I was in the shower for just a few minutes before I realized my contractions were much more difficult to tolerate. I had Cristian time some. He told me they were two minutes apart lasting 50 seconds to 1 minute each. I didn’t really seem to care about the data anymore and was annoyed with timing them. I was having trouble focusing on anything but the contractions. I tried to talk through one and realized it was very difficult. Cristian watched me lean against the wall and sway through a few contractions and said he’d seen all this before and suggested we call my midwife. I agreed.

He spoke with Laurie at 4:10pm. She said she and the second midwife, Christy, were on their way.

4:45pm Christy, one of the midwives, arrived. She greeted me gently and checked the heartbeat first thing. The baby’s heart rate was strong through my contractions and in the 140s throughout labor. Contractions were 1 and a half to 2 mins apart at that point. I could talk in between contractions, but I had only a minute of rest and couldn’t focus on anything but pacing through the house then leaning on a piece of furniture and swaying through each one. I remember Christy immediately making up the bed for the birth and it hit me that this was it. This was real labor. My heart skipped a beat. My baby would be here soon.

5pm: I no more than wrapped my head around that concept when Laurie walked in the room. I felt like my labor had the green light to do whatever it needed to do when I saw her. I greeted her quickly as another contraction began and I walked out into the living room. With that very contraction, my water broke.
As the midwives set up the birthing pool in the bay window of our bedroom, I waded further into my labor. I leaned on my bathroom vanity and had Cristian press on my low back through each contraction. The contractions were very close together and I was beginning to quietly vocalize with them.

Cristian was some kind of tonic for my labor. I wouldn’t let him leave me. He felt like my safety net and as long as he was there, with his quiet encouragement and his strong hands on my back, the contraction didn’t seem to phase me as much. He was there for every single contraction. I don’t think he went to the bathroom at all.

It wasn’t until after labor that I could fully reflect on the incredibly intuitive, wonderful labor partner he was for me, but even then, I remember feeling a sense of connection with him to a depth I hadn’t felt before. This was a sharp contrast to Emery’s hospital delivery where there were so many people around us and between us that we couldn’t have possibly had this kind of intimate connection and experience. This time, it felt like just the two of us, finding our way through the effort together in the house that we built for our family. It felt safe. It felt right. It felt like I was discovering a part of him I’d just glimpsed before. This was a gift I hadn’t anticipated.

By 5:30pm I was in the labor pool on my knees with my arms draped over the sides and my head resting on the puffy plastic tubed edge. Cristian continued to press on my low back and give counter support and quiet verbal encouragement with each contraction. I remember thinking that the contractions weren’t really all that bad, even in the depths of labor. The pain wasn’t what annoyed me, it was the energy that they swiped from me and the focus they required that made me wish I was done with it already.

6:00pm Contractions were strong. I was groaning in low voice with each one. I was in laborland at this point and feeling a little spaced out. Time and events seem to blur at this point. I remember feeling nauseous and shaking strongly between contractions and realizing I must be in transition. I was grateful because I knew I wouldn’t be too much further from meeting my baby.

Somewhere around this time, I remember being thoroughly annoyed with labor and between contractions firmly and loudly telling Cristian that we were never having another baby. Ever. Cristian later told me that when I said that the midwives looked up from their knitting, smiled and remarked something about getting close.

Around 6:30pm I remember feeling a little pressure and asking Laurie if I should push. She offered to check me to see if I was fully dilated yet. It was the first time she’d checked me since she had arrived and she reported I was about 8-9 cm. When she told me, I whined “Noooooo!” with disappointment. I was impatient. I was ready for 10cm. She encouraged me and told me I was close. I digressed and recommitted myself to waiting it out.

I started having some strong muscle cramping in my legs and hands so the midwives suggested I stand up, which solved the problem almost immediately. The contractions were so strong at that point that I could barely hold myself up during them. I must have put all my weight into Cristian, who held me up each time. I think I even pulled his hair once or twice. A few contractions standing up and my body started pushing on it’s own. It was surprising to feel the pushing come without me making it happen, but it did. Laurie said “let your body lead” so I remember putting all my trust into the wisdom of my body, which seemed to know more than my brain at that point so trust it, I did.

At 6:45pm I was squatting in the tub again and Cristian was behind me supporting me as I began to push. I could hear him saying positive things to me in my ear. I noticed my contractions had spaced out a bit and I knew I was ready. I took a deep breath and said a little prayer for what I knew was coming next.

Pushing was the painful part. Painful doesn’t even begin to describe the sensation of my pelvis feeling as if it was being sawed apart. The contractions were nothing compared to the feeling of a baby coming through me and into the world. Likewise, being partially numb to that feeling pales in comparison to feeling your child move through you, pushing you apart in ways you feel you shouldn’t be pushed, stretching, pulling, opening your heart and your body to another life. I can hardly describe the intensity of it, but having done it both ways, I can honestly say that for me, being present to such an all consuming sensation and experience is more impressionable and more incredible and in my eyes, even preferable than to being numb to it, pain and all.

I didn’t curse or say horrible things to my husband. I just screamed. A lot. My midwives suggested I send the energy down and out with the baby instead of through my mouth. That guidance helped immensely and I redirected my efforts.

My contractions while pushing were ocean waves. I spent their approach looking for a way around them, bracing against the strength of them, wishing for a way out of them, but once they were upon me, I knew that the only way to the other side of them was to dig in deep and ride them, to climb up them, and to surrender to the peak of their height so I could coast down the backside to a valley that allowed a moment’s rest. I wish I could say that I finally fully surrendered to the pain, but apparently I’m not the fully surrendering type. I tried, really, I did, but the surrender came and went with each contraction. I spent some of the contraction’s beginning screaming and then was reminded that the only way out of the pain was straight through the depths of it. I spent the rest of the contraction pushing with every bit of strength and determination I could muster, surrendering to the pain, momentarily fighting it as it intensified, then agreeing to surrender to it again. Over and over I did this. 40 minutes of oscillating between fighting and surrendering to pain. 40 minutes of convincing myself to push into and past the pain instead of backing away from it. 40 minutes that felt like 40 hours. It was the most difficult 40 minutes of my life.

The midwives said all the right things at just the right volume at just the right moment. It’s amazing how they have that kind of intuition.

Through the dense fog of labor, I remember hearing thunder rumbling outside my window, a sound I hadn’t heard in so long with this summer’s drought. It was appropriate, I thought.

7:23pm Finally, my baby’s head was crowning. Between contractions and at my midwives’ encouragement, I reached down to touch a dark fringe of baby fine hair and feel the top of my baby’s head and was shocked to discover how tiny it felt. To my hand, her head felt the size of an orange, but to my pelvis, it was an overgrown watermelon. I was so close now. One more contraction and the hot fire in my perineum had lessened as her head was out. The cord was wrapped around her head 3 and a half times, which Laurie removed gently without me really noticing. In a matter of seconds and one big push, I felt her feet kick off the top of my uterus, and she slipped out of me as quickly as if I was exhaling her in an easy breath.

I went from the most intense pain I’d ever imagined to complete and total relief and a soaring high a matter of moments. A drug-like fairy tale high as my baby, long and gorgeous, emerged from the darkening water. With that, my second child, my surprise miracle was born. And my life changed forever. Again.

The moment she slipped out of my aching body, Laurie laid a tiny, dark haired, quiet baby on my chest and my heart was twice as full as it ever was. At the same time, the skies opened up and the long awaited rain poured down outside the window. I’ll never forget that moment. It is etched deep in my memory for life. She was born in the water. She brought the rain. It was as if they sky opened up for her and the rain that came down may as well have been tears of happiness quenching my soul.

In my memory time stood still for that moment, but the next two minutes were intense in a different way. Eve’s heart rate had dropped to 100 beats per minute likely from the 3 cords around her neck at delivery. She required a few rescue breaths and lots of rubbing and coaxing. The midwives moved quickly and calmly to bring her around and reminded me to talk to her to tell her to be present. She began coughing and pinking up as I asked her to come around to us. A few minutes later, she was crying and wriggling like none of it had ever happened. I was so grateful that my midwives never took her away from me during that time, and remained so calm and collected that the concern of the situation never quite reached me.

7:32pm Her Apgar came up from a 5 at one minute to an 8. After I knew our baby was okay, I wondered if baby was a she or a he. We still didn’t know! We lifted the blanket that covered her and I picked up her leg to discover that we indeed had a girl.

Eve Analee 6lbs, 8 oz, 22 inches long

7:40 pm The midwives helped me up and out of the pool and to the bed, just a few steps away. They cleaned up the labor pool and everything else labor related as Cristian and I talked to and loved on Eve. Laurie brought me a snack, fixed me an herbal tea and snapped a few pictures as Emery and my parents arrived.

My parents oogled at our Eve, put Emery to bed, fixed us all a fantastic late night dinner and we all just awed at this new life, this beautiful little love that snuggled in bed with me and nursed like a champ. Cristian and I didn’t get but about 2 hours of sleep that night because we were up talking about what an amazing experience it was, recounting all the funny and not so funny moments (which I will NEVER reveal) of my labor. And of course, we couldn’t stop staring at our beautiful girl.

Overall, Eve’s labor and birth was an amazing, unforgettable journey for me, and knowing that I had a baby without an ounce of intervention or medication in my own home with my husband as my partner makes me feel as if we can take on anything life presents. Absolutely anything.

The home birth itself was as peaceful and easy as I had wished for it to be. I’m so lucky there weren’t complications and all went so incredibly well. Mostly, though, I’m just lucky I got to experience the power of such a birth, heal from the stress and disdain from Emery’s hospital postpartum stay, and truly allow my faith in my body to reveal itself.  It wasn't orgasmic or painless or silent as if I was on one of those dateline stories.  But it wasn't horrible or unbearable or frightening either.  It was just labor in it's purest form.  Raw, miraculous, incredible.  It hurt like hell and it didn't all in the same breath. 

Perhaps the gem of it all it is that in the end, all that was left of labor was a thick blanket of love and a dark haired beauty named Eve.  My baby, my new love, my daughter, and all was right in the world.