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Here are the winners of our Home Birth Story and Oops Birth Story Contest, May 2003.
We live at the end of a bumpy dirt road with no sign to identify its name. Giving directions is a little tricky. But our midwife, Yolanda, had come for home visits, and knew our area from previous births with other families. However, her pre-scheduled trip to Africa was set to begin just three days after my estimated due date. My husband, Gary, and I had developed a very special friendship with Yolanda and trusted her completely. Our hope was to birth before she left. Yolanda assured us that if she was gone when we went into labor, her back-up, Laura, was very competent and we would be in excellent hands. We were nervous about not having the eight months of close prenatal history with her back-up. We barely knew each other. Yolanda had said many times during our prenatal visits that she wanted her moms to believe in their strength; to go into their birth knowing that they didn't need to have a midwife next to them to birth their babies. I was, and am, a believer.
My due date came and went, and Yolanda left for Africa. Before leaving, Yolanda set up a meeting with Laura, so that we could get to know each other a bit. We felt very good with Laura. She was calm, confident, and gentle. At the end of our meeting, we gave her directions to our house and she gave us her phone numbers. She and I planned to speak on the phone every few days.
Several days after my due date, my best friend, Carla, came from Chicago to stay with me. We had planned on her assisting our birth. Our days together were very relaxing. Carla kept my mind off what seemed like a never-ending pregnancy.
Thursday, August 10th , was a very lazy day for me. I laid around in my bathrobe, moping and eating, the entire day. Labor didn't seem to be anywhere in sight, and Carla, who by now, had been with us a week, was planning to go back to Chicago for a couple of days to see her husband. About 10:15 that evening, the three of us picked out a movie to watch on the VCR. As soon as the movie started I began feeling queasy. I went to the bathroom and noticed that I was feeling nauseated. Once I stood up, I felt a strange achy contraction. I had had many nights of questionable contractions and false labors, so I was slow to respond to these strange sensations. I went back to the movie, but as soon as I laid back down, the achiness and nausea returned and I went back to the bathroom. I eventually got down on my hands and knees and worked through these cramps quietly, not wanting to make it official, until I knew I was in labor. I then went to the bedroom to lie down. After Gary and Carla came to see what was going on, we timed the cramps that were beginning to grow in intensity and form a pattern. They were consistently one minute long and 3-4 minutes apart. About 12:30a.m., we called Laura. She heard two of my contractions on the phone and said that it sounded like I was in labor. She then told me to, "let it be night," meaning we should keep the house quiet and dimly lit. Laura also advised me to spend some time in the bath tub, pouring warm water over my belly, and call her when I felt like I needed her to come.
I spent about 30 minutes in the bath tub, with Carla pouring water over my belly and Gary preparing the house for the birth. I found that I felt most comfortable on the toilet during this early part of labor. Not knowing how long this labor might be, I decided to lie down and get some rest. I fell asleep briefly and awoke in the middle of a contraction. This feeling was incredibly startling and uncomfortable. I wanted Laura to come, and fast. I should mention here that Laura lived about 45 minutes away, and had never been to our house. Carla called Laura, and Gary persuaded me to move toward our hot tub outside, where we had planned to spend part of early labor. At this point, I was beginning to feel very uncomfortable and had to pull inward to concentrate on the task of focusing through this hard work. Gary's encouraging words kept me going.
Once we entered the hot tub, the water felt very warm and relaxing. The pressure seemed to immediately lessen. The darkness of the night around us felt peaceful and safe. Shortly after entering the water, I began to wonder when Laura would arrive. The pressure in my cervix was intense and I recognized the feeling of having to go to the bathroom. We assumed that I was not yet in the transition stage of labor. After searching for our house and getting lost, Laura made it to our house at 4 a.m. Carla gave her an update and showed her the birth supplies. Laura came outside and sat quietly . Feeling her presence was a great comfort. I knew she would want to check me to see how dilated I was, and I stalled, not wanting to be touched. I told her that I felt the pressure to go the bathroom, but it wasn't time to push because I hadn't hit transition yet. The contractions were intense, but if everything was perfectly still and quiet, I could handle them. After Laura checked me, she said sounding pleasantly surprised, "You're further along than you thought." She estimated me to be around nine centimeters! Out of relief and happiness, I could have kissed her. We were refreshed and stimulated by the news and ready to prepare to push. Laura told me that we needed to decide where we wanted to have this baby. I had planned earlier to push and birth our baby inside the house, but the water felt too good to get out. Laura also informed us that the contractions change and feel more intense on land. That confirmed my instincts to stay in the hot tub. Why change everything when I, at least, had a handle on these contractions? We then changed positions in the hot tub. Gary got behind me, and Laura told me to try pushing with the next contraction. I could not believe how uncomfortable it felt. I had always heard that it was a great relief to push. For me, this was a new sensation that I was not at all prepared for. I was very discouraged and scared. The force that took over during these contractions was out of my control and no amount of focusing could tame it. Laura kept telling me to push "down and out." I didn't even want to push. Laura held my hand through each contraction, as she stood beside the hot tub. Laura worked with only one hand the entire time because she never let go holding mine with her other one. She also worked in complete darkness without a flashlight. She did both of these things so that I could be more comfortable.
During the breaks between pushes, I was able to look up and notice the dark sky, speckled with bright stars. The moon had set and the stars were even more pronounced in the black sky. It was a mild August night and we later found out there had been an Aurora Borealis to the north of us. I began routinely looking up at the Little Dipper between pushes to catch my breath. It's fixed position somehow kept me anchored and steady as I worked with my baby.
The night began to fade as we pushed for over an hour. Gary and I noticed the woods we faced taking on a slightly pinkish glow. We were facing east, and we would soon see the sun rise. My initial thought was of my neighbors. Not only had they heard my shouts and bellows, through out the night, but now they would be able to see me, naked, howling, in the hot tub, as they calmly walked out of their doors to their cars for their morning commutes to work, trying not to notice the woman birthing a baby in her back yard. The thought of my neighbors was brief.
Suddenly, an overwhelming force to purge this baby from my body came in an instant. I had to give into it. I roared as my body transformed into motherhood. Just as I was slapped down from the enormous wave of life pushing itself into the world, flashes of light blinked in front of my eyes. I hallucinated that firecrackers were going off in the sky for me and my astounding strength, either that or I had died from the insurmountable challenge. Then, I heard a man's voice say from behind our deck, "Ottawa County Police Department. Do you need a paramedic, ma'am?" I couldn't answer him, because I was so stunned at the sound of the baby crying in my arms. It had all happened so quickly. The officer commented that they had received "numerous phone calls" from our neighbors. Laura cleverly replied, "Women tend to make noise when they are having babies." I climbed out of the hot tub with the assistance of Gary and Laura, while Carla escorted the officers back to their cars.
A short while later, I birthed the placenta and crawled into our bed with our new little boy, Lucas Weaver, and my husband. We laughed about our unexpected visitors, and awed over the beauty of the night. Laura said that it was a poetic birth: laboring under the dark night sky and birthing as the sun comes up. It was a perfect night for a birth.
On January 13th, we went to the midwife in Grand Coulee (a little over an hour drive) for our weekly appointment. She checked me and said I was still 4 cm dilated and 90 % effaced, however she said the baby had moved back up. She assured us it could not be much longer.
We got home that afternoon and I started having some mild contractions. I really didn't tell anyone because I started feeling like that little boy who always cried wolf, as I had been having contractions almost every night since January 1st. (As a matter of fact, we spent the night of January 9th at the hospital because my contractions were coming every 4 minutes. This lasted for about 4 hours and stopped.)
I showered and took a nap, and pretty soon the contractions stopped again. I had reached the point where I did everything I could to take my mind off of the labor I thought would never start. We had an uneventful night, and I trudged off to bed one more time still pregnant. At about 1:30am, Marlee (our 20 month old) woke up. She had been particularly clingy to me (which is unusual…she is daddy's little girl in every sense of the word) the previous day, and I asked Troy (my husband) if he would please get her. He brought her to bed with us and she quieted down.
At about 2:00 am, I had to go to the bathroom. The minute I got out of the bed, our daughter started crying again. So, I got her up with me. I started having contractions, and I thought, 'Great! Another night of no sleep, a cranky 20 month old, and I am STILL pregnant.
Finally, at 2:30 am, I woke Troy and asked him to sit up with our daughter so I could take a shower. I got in the shower and the contractions dissipated a little. I noticed that they were a lot stronger than any of the contractions I had been having, but they were only lasting about 30 seconds and did not seem to be getting any closer together or forming any true pattern.
I got out of the shower and Troy asked, "Don't you think we should go?". By this time, I had no clue. I had been having so many different contraction patterns that I didn't know if it was real or not. We put a call in to the midwife and she said to come on up. It was now 3:00 am, we loaded up Victoria (our 9 year old), Jacob (our 7 year old), Marlee and my Mom and headed for the hospital.
I could no longer talk through these short, very intense contractions. About 16 miles up the road, my water broke. I told Troy and he kept reassuring me that we would be there in no time and to just hang on. He was wonderful in keeping us both calm.
The next contraction hit and I told Troy I thought the baby was coming out. He asked me what I wanted him to do, and my mom said, 'Keep going!!!'. Of course, I countered, "Pull over!". We just happened to be coming up to a friend's house (Scott and Cindy Carroll's). We pulled into their drive, Troy laying on the horn. Troy got out and came over to my side of the van and helped me get my pants down. He said he didn't see anything, but the contraction had passed. My mom said, "It's not coming…let's get to the hospital", which was still another 40 minutes away...Mom continued in this fashion with all sorts of words of wisdom, like 'the baby won't come until we get to the hospital...now get in the car and DRIVE!
The next contraction hit, and Troy said, "Oh, there it is!". Troy immediately called 911 to let them know what was going on...and then made a quick phone call to the midwife to let her know what was happening. The next few minutes were amazing. Troy really couldn't see a whole lot as it was very dark outside, snow was falling, and all we had for light was the dome. My mom, Jacob and Marlee were watching closely from their vantage point over my left shoulder. Victoria was sent into the house to wake our friends and to get some towels and blankets. During all this, Troy slowly delivered the baby's head. The baby then turned his own body (that's innate for you!), and Troy gently guided him out with the next contraction and placed him on my belly. We had no blankets in front with us...as this was totally unexpected and so we grabbed our 20 months old 'blankie'...she didn't fuss too much over this. All this happened in a matter of 5 minutes. By the time Victoria got back to the van with the Carroll's the baby had been born!
After a minute or so of reassurances going back and forth between Troy and I, and making sure that the baby was 'pinking up' and breathing ok, I asked Troy what we had…he had forgotten to look! He peeked under the blanket and said, "It's a Boy!". We also forgot to check the time when the baby came out, which Cindy asked when she got out to the van. Troy had been timing my contractions, so we estimated the time of birth to be 3:38 am. Cindy and Scott were wonderful. They were very concerned over a 'sterile' environment and Scott felt like we needed more light. He went running off to get his spotlight, which plugs into the cigarette lighter. He then was off again and came back with his truck. In all his nervousness he had forgotten we could have just as easily plugged the light into our van!
By the time the ambulance crew arrived everything had been done. Living in a small community with no birthing options, the crew was very excited about the call. The only man on the crew acted as though there was some sort of force field around the van...He did not want to get too close! The two gals were happy that everyone was all right, but disappointed that the baby had been born before they got there. The real kicker was my husband was in the middle of taking the EMT classes (ours is solely a volunteer system), and all during classes it was well known that the 'ultimate' call would be a childbirth call...which none had ever received!! Needless to say, when Troy went back to class some of the instructors were a bit jealous!
The cutting of the cord was funny too. They had a 'birth kit' in the ambulance as protocol, but the gal felt like the alcohol pads weren't quite sterile enough to clean the sterile scissors in the sealed pack. So off Cindy went into the house and comes out with this huge bottle of alcohol. The EMT worker then poured alcohol all over the scissors before she would allow Troy to cut the cord.
The ride in the ambulance was quite fun, too! One of the EMTs wanted to give the baby oxygen. I asked her why...and she said, well he needs it. I said, 'he looks just fine, his breathing is even and he is nice and pink.' She then offered me the oxygen. I said I didn't really need it, but perhaps Troy could use some. She then got very excited at the fact Troy needed oxygen (which he really didn't). I think the poor gal was just flustered and really, really wanted to give someone something!
After a brief visit to the ER in our hometown, we were released to our midwife. She said to just go home, since we were only 5 minutes away and to call her if either of us seemed to be having problems. We were safe and sound at home by 8:00 am.
All in all it was a wonderful birthing experience. We were blessed with a beautiful, healthy baby boy weighing in at 7 lb. 13 oz. and measuring 20 inches in length. Mom faired well with only a small tear that did not require any stitching, and Dad has been on Cloud 9 ever since! Our three older children were able to take part in the joy of the miracle of birth, and Odessa's first Millenium Baby was born in Odessa, not to mention Odessa's first baby born in the town in over 10 years!
The day hangs heavy and humid, as I am ripe with the promise of my child. I have scrambled thoughts and pasta for lunch, not focusing on much beyond the gripping strength of my back muscles. The surges build and linger for a staggering five minutes. Can this be right? Mid afternoon I call my midwife, Carey, and she reassures me that it is back pain I am feeling and not interminable contractions. She comes over to govern and reassure. She is a short round woman who usually wears her long dresses with tights and Birkenstocks. Today she is wearing purple scrubs, her attending birth clothes. I am surprised at what this means to me. Whose birth is she planning on attending? Oh, mine! I don't feel ready, but she decides that tonight will be the night and unloads all her needed supplies. I don't feel that it will be soon, I don't have a good sense about when it will be. I trust Carey implicitly, with my life and that of my baby.
She seems the most intelligent person I have ever met. She has sensible short hair and plain features unadorned by makeup. Her blue eyes are small and round, piercing, from her moon face. She has softly freckled arms that end in small capable hands, and her movements with the stethoscope, blood pressure cuff and Doppler are quick and sure.
With her suggestion I have made two recent trips to the acupuncturist to encourage labor. Now she says I need a visit to the chiropractor to alleviate my back pain. She drives my mother and myself to the Dr. and I feel immediate relief after the adjustment. The contractions seem to straighten out into a more recognizable pattern, lasting the usual minute in length.
It is still early in my labor, however. Back at my apartment we convene on the couch in the sparsely furnished living room. I had just moved the day before, not an easy feat when you are in early labor and having your baby at home. I would lift heavy boxes I wasn't supposed to and contract. I would stand and point where to put more boxes and contract. I would silently waddle and fume in the oppressive heat and contract. I did not care anymore where I was living or what was unpacked, I wanted my baby.
I felt comfortable here in this large old building, more so than in my other cramped space. At my other apartment the labor tub took up the whole living room. Here the quiet beauty of the tall ceilings, the plate rails and ornate woodworking, and the well-worn patina of the wood floors were comforting. It seemed appropriate to be giving birth as women used to a hundred years ago, in a hundred-year old building. I imagined the other souls that had been welcomed within these walls. I felt release. We had set the portable tub up on the sleeping porch off of my bedroom. The glossy green leaves of the overhanging oaks lent the air of being in a tree house.
Carey used midwife tools of the trade, herbs and homeopathy to encourage my labor. They act as uterine tonics and make it contract more effectively. My labor was still limping along, with the contractions coming every five to fifteen minutes. Carey suspected a mental block, more than a physical one. She asked me,
"If you had an giant imaginary chalkboard that represented your life, what kind of things would be written on it? What unfinished business do you have that is keeping you from having this baby? What do you need to wipe off that chalkboard?" I uneasily assure her that I can think of nothing. I am not honest, even with myself. I am estranged from my baby's father and I have not finished paying Carey the money I owe her per our contract. She has said nothing about the money, but I feel like Atlas under a terrible weight and I am wracked by guilt. I feel badly that I was not able to finish paying her before the birth. I know by her presence though that she is not dwelling on it and is here to support me unconditionally.
We settle in for some needed dinner. My mother makes spaghetti and salad. I have Tobasco sauce on mine at the suggestion of the acupuncturist. This is to help with my climbing blood pressure and sluggish labor. A wall of bay windows brackets the dining room, and the sunset is beautiful and bright, but the air hangs heavy and quiet like my dormant body about to wake up. It is summer, no matter that my calendar says September. Soon I feel my labor picking up and my mother reassures me while rubbing my back pain away,
"You are doing great, take them one at a time," my midwife says.
I think that giving birth can be no worse than throwing up the dinner I just ate. It made me feel weak and hateful, and I cried. An energy shift is apparent; my body chugs along-the little labor that could. The surges are more frequent now. I moan as they move powerfully through me. My mother takes me downstairs to walk. The dark lends the air of coolness to the old oak trees. The brick buildings in my neighborhood return the heat they have been collecting all day. The ground beneath my feet radiates the same warmth that I do. Strong, rich and fertile are we, the roots of the oak and myself. My surges are intense and I feel too small for this intrusion of public space around me. I need to be sheltered and cozy; this is too big and vast for me. I am uncomfortable with strangers seeing me and not understanding the mighty task with which I have been presented. I need to be with women who know and respect the hard work, who will protect the sacred wholeness of the journey until it is completed.
I sink gratefully into the lullaby warmth of the bubble tub. It sends me spinning away in my mind, barely floating, and barely breathing. Then I snap back with the red-hot force of my labor inside me. I doze in between, comforted by the gurgle of the jets and the bustle of the matrons around me. They are believing in me and waiting for this travail to end. In their eyes is the reassurance that I need. I clamber out of the tub, to the bathroom and back.
Everything has changed suddenly, but I can't remember a time when it didn't feel like this. The white light will consume me as the floorboards open and I sink beneath them. But no, there is work to be done yet that only I can do. I am seated on a birth stool with my mother next to me. The surges no longer move through me, I am the whole sensation now. With uncontrollable force I feel the urge to push down, like throwing up in reverse. I am unable to stop and scared to continue. I will break in half. I stand in the middle of the road and wait for someone to tell me where to go. Kari, the nurse, whispers in my ear,
"Each one, just like that. You are doing it, only you can do it. Push again."
I am treading water in the waves of sensation and only coming up for air. Time stands still for me, while the breeze finally picks up through the white Victorian shutters. Everything is surreal. I appear to be operating at half time, just seconds behind everyone else. I can hear them, but through a fog. I have to open my eyes and concentrate really hard on their lips to make sense of the words. I feel drugged and like I am moving slower than the rest of the world. I float in between, struggling to keep my eyes open. Then with each contraction I snap back. I push down uncontrollably as hard as I dare. Slowly it seems the baby's head is finally just visible at the opening.
"Your baby has hair, come on Jessica, give us another good push you are almost there." Carey is seated on the floor in front of the birth stool, her lap covered with towels and her gloved hands ready to catch my baby.
"Give me your hand, reach down. That is YOUR baby!" she says.
"No! I know! I can feel it!" I say shakily, and everyone chuckles. The realness of the situation is apparent. In another minute my baby will be born. With a final push I ease his head out and then up to his shoulders, they turn and he comes in a gush of fluid up to my flaccid belly. Carey disentangles the cord from around his neck and he breathes easily. I can't believe it is over just like that. The hours before are gone, it seems too quick almost to have him here. I breathe his name out loud for the first time- Quinn. The bargain we struck is immutable, I brought him here, and he made me the woman I am. I will have other babies, but never another firstborn. I will attend many births as a midwife, but none like this. I tell my son,
"No mother can love a child more. I won't love you the best, I will always love you the first."
This was to be my second labor and birth in 18 months
and I was so ready for it. My first birth left much
to be desired, I learned much more during my second
pregnancy and was determined to give birth this time
with dignity and without lots of people interfering.
I went to bed at 10 pm on a Saturday night exhausted
from a day of playing in the snow covered woods with
my 18 month old and my husband. All that fresh air
really takes a lot out of a 9 month pregnant woman on
the verge of birthing(little did I know). I was
contracting a little and had a small amount of blood
tinged discharge and knew labor was soon to be , but I
just wanted rest and lots of it. I told my husband
what was happening and off to bed I went. I fell
asleep fast and slept hard for what seemed like a long
time. I awoke about 2:20 am to a contraction that
made me rise up out of bed very quickly! I went to
the bathroom and noticed a lot of blood tinged mucus
and knew it was time to get busy. I decided a warm
shower would feel good and wanted to enjoy the early
morning alone, not waking my husband. I felt on top
of the world and was so excited. I began talking to
the baby and really surrendering to the way my body
was feeling. I so wanted a different experience. I
wanted to love this baby out, not climb walls and
scream bloody hell like I did the first time.
All of a sudden I heard my husband saying "honey are
you ok?" I had woken him with my deep moaning that I
didn't even really realize I was making. I said "yes,
but it is time you should call your mother." We
planned a hospital nurse midwife attended birth. I
hadn't up until that point been able to make the leap
to home birth, but deep inside I knew thats where I
should have my babies. My husband called his mother
and asked them to come in to watch our 18 month old
son while we made the move. They live about 20
minutes away. I then got dressed and called my sister
and mom who lived about 3 hours away. The last time
I talked to my sister it was 2:50 am. (1/2 hour after
I awoke) I was beginning to feel quite out of sorts
and was working really hard. I began complaining to
my husband(Bob) that his parents were taking too long.
He gently reassured me and said they would be here
any minute. Upon my next contraction I told Bob I
needed to poop, so off I went. As I sat on the toilet
pooping I heard myself grunting and knew I wasn't just
pushing poop. I reached down and felt my baby's head
crowning. At first I was afraid, thinking something
was wrong. His little head was all wrinkly to the
touch and at first I thought it was the cord. But
then the burning sensation took over and I felt again
and knew it was his head coming out. I yelled for Bob
and said "the baby is coming". Bob reached for me and
said "ok lets go to the hospital now". I laughed and
said" No! The baby is coming out of me!"
Just then I heard my mother-in-law say "Hello". I
called out for her and she came running. I yelled the
baby was coming and she said"well , get off the
toilet!" I got down on my hands and knees
instinctively and just as my husband said what do I
do, I yelled "CATCH THE BABY!" He didn't quite make
it, the baby slid out onto the floor in the caul!
(3:11 am) I had to tell Bob what to do and then he
passed him through my legs to me as I sat there and
cried. It took me a couple of minutes to just observe
the baby to see if everything was ok. I thought
surely something must be wrong for him to come in 50
minutes. He was perfect! I delivered the placenta
about 10 minutes later with no problems. My bathroom
baby's name is Rio, he was 7lbs 6 oz and 21 inches
long. My labor was about 50 minutes in total and my
mother-in-law is still in total shock over it!
I am now a childbirth educator ,doula and student
midwife. I feel in my heart I was meant to have two
totally different birth experiences to share with my
students and doula clients. I learned so much about
trusting my body to birth. The way I prepared the
second time around, mind, body and spirit was what
lead me to Rios birth. I feel blessed.
I have heard special stories about babies being born
in the caul, maybe I am biased he is my baby after
all, , but I swear there is something really special
about this one. Watch out George W. Bush!
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