It's taken me a week to finish this. Life moves at such a different pace now.
Cavan Alexander was born on August 15th (exactly 41 weeks) at 7:17 pm to the Rolling Stones "Gimmie Shelter". Odd choice for birth music I know but I have never envisioned myself birthing to monks chanting or Enya (not that there's a thing wrong with that). I wanted music that inspired, empowered and made you want to get up and do something.
I started getting contractions in the morning on the 15th. I didn't realize what they were at the time though, as they had no real pattern... I thought I had just eaten too much (a common theme in my pregnancy.) Once I was awake I couldn’t get back to sleep easily so I decided I'd tire myself out by cleaning my kitchen. When that didn't work I baked a torte. Finally I gave up and went back to sleep. Brent documented all of this because he was positive this was it. I was skeptical thinking I had a few more days.
We went about our day as usual and then out of the blue, at about 1pm-ish, contractions started to have a clear pattern and get close together. Virginia told Brent to put me in the tub and she'd be there soon (she was an hour and a half away at a Barbara Harper conference.) Labor was not what I thought it would be. Most of the descriptions I had read online described it as “the worst menstrual cramp you’ve ever had times ten." I had a hard time relating to this because I don’t get cramps. For me it felt like very bad gas pain. Our tub worked wonders in the early part of our labor. It allowed my body to feel relaxed and comfortable. I felt myself opening and it was amazing.
Occasionally I would moan to Virginia, "I need a break" and she would say, "well give yourself one." And I did! I could tell my body to hold off on the next one and it would! I'd then feel renewed and could get through the next one. The control you can have over your body during labor is something that just marvels me.
I knew vaguely that I had hit transition when I suddenly had the urge to vomit. That was fun. After that came an intense round of hiccups. By far the most annoying aspect of labor! I'd be in the middle of a wicked contraction moaning in pain and all of a sudden I'd start hiccuping and Brent would be laughing at me. I remember looking over at Virginia at one point and saying, "okay seriously… the hiccups need to go!"
That’s about the time when things started to change. For one, contractions started to feel different. Same pain but it was accompanied by a spasm that radiated through my whole body. Up until that point I felt some measure of control over my body (even through the pain). But this... well this was scary as hell. There was no controlling the spasms. It honestly freaked me out more than it hurt me but that little bit of fear was enough to start a very quick regression. I was not aware of it at the time (and thank god for that) but I went from almost 10 cm (just a teeny bit of cervical lip left to stretch) to 5 cm in a very short space of time (like an hour!)
The tub stopped working. And looking back now I think I know why. Throughout my pregnancy I never slowed down. Staying active was really important to me and I never took my personality into consideration when I envisioned what my birth would be. So while the thought of lounging in a tub made sense to my pregnant brain it just didn’t bode well with the real, type A, bouncing off the walls me.
I needed to get up and be proactive. I needed to move the baby out of me and I had been stagnant in that tub for 4 hours. So when Virginia checked me and found that I was 5 cm she said, "okay... out of the tub!" Brent and I walked up and down my stairs twice and then I felt a strong need to be in my kitchen. Virginia and I stood at the kitchen counter. She had me write (with my left-hand) words that came to mind in the middle of contractions. It forced me to focus through the pain and as I started verbalizing what was in my head a light switched on for me and I dropped to my knees when it became clear that the only thing holding me back was me. I was ready but I had to become louder than my fear. So the next contraction I yelled "I release I release I release."
That phrase got me THERE but he didn't come until I said, "I surrender." It was like he was waiting for that all along. On my knees, upright in front of my stove I faced my fear, surrendered and gave birth to my son. He was born in caul (which is just amazing to me.) In fact, Virginia tried to break the bag but couldn't! He shot out of me like a rocket… one push for his head and the next for the rest of him. He had been ready all along. It was me who had been the stubborn one.
I walked to my bedroom carrying my son minutes after giving birth to him. I think that was honestly my proudest memory of the whole thing for whatever reason.
My birth team never left me. Virginia and Michelle (my doula) are my heroes. I really don't know how to thank them and they will be family to me for the rest of my life. Brent was amazing. He knew just what I needed when I needed it and I fell in love with him all over again. My son has changed the way I view everything. I look at him and I regret every stupid thing I have ever done and every time I lost sight of what is truly important. He burps like a trucker and snores like his father so I may never get a full night’s sleep again but I've never been more in love.
A few pictures of him: One, Two, Three. He was 6lbs even and 19.5 inches long... my little string bean!
Cavan Alexander was born on August 15th (exactly 41 weeks) at 7:17 pm to the Rolling Stones "Gimmie Shelter". Odd choice for birth music I know but I have never envisioned myself birthing to monks chanting or Enya (not that there's a thing wrong with that). I wanted music that inspired, empowered and made you want to get up and do something.
I started getting contractions in the morning on the 15th. I didn't realize what they were at the time though, as they had no real pattern... I thought I had just eaten too much (a common theme in my pregnancy.) Once I was awake I couldn’t get back to sleep easily so I decided I'd tire myself out by cleaning my kitchen. When that didn't work I baked a torte. Finally I gave up and went back to sleep. Brent documented all of this because he was positive this was it. I was skeptical thinking I had a few more days.
We went about our day as usual and then out of the blue, at about 1pm-ish, contractions started to have a clear pattern and get close together. Virginia told Brent to put me in the tub and she'd be there soon (she was an hour and a half away at a Barbara Harper conference.) Labor was not what I thought it would be. Most of the descriptions I had read online described it as “the worst menstrual cramp you’ve ever had times ten." I had a hard time relating to this because I don’t get cramps. For me it felt like very bad gas pain. Our tub worked wonders in the early part of our labor. It allowed my body to feel relaxed and comfortable. I felt myself opening and it was amazing.
Occasionally I would moan to Virginia, "I need a break" and she would say, "well give yourself one." And I did! I could tell my body to hold off on the next one and it would! I'd then feel renewed and could get through the next one. The control you can have over your body during labor is something that just marvels me.
I knew vaguely that I had hit transition when I suddenly had the urge to vomit. That was fun. After that came an intense round of hiccups. By far the most annoying aspect of labor! I'd be in the middle of a wicked contraction moaning in pain and all of a sudden I'd start hiccuping and Brent would be laughing at me. I remember looking over at Virginia at one point and saying, "okay seriously… the hiccups need to go!"
That’s about the time when things started to change. For one, contractions started to feel different. Same pain but it was accompanied by a spasm that radiated through my whole body. Up until that point I felt some measure of control over my body (even through the pain). But this... well this was scary as hell. There was no controlling the spasms. It honestly freaked me out more than it hurt me but that little bit of fear was enough to start a very quick regression. I was not aware of it at the time (and thank god for that) but I went from almost 10 cm (just a teeny bit of cervical lip left to stretch) to 5 cm in a very short space of time (like an hour!)
The tub stopped working. And looking back now I think I know why. Throughout my pregnancy I never slowed down. Staying active was really important to me and I never took my personality into consideration when I envisioned what my birth would be. So while the thought of lounging in a tub made sense to my pregnant brain it just didn’t bode well with the real, type A, bouncing off the walls me.
I needed to get up and be proactive. I needed to move the baby out of me and I had been stagnant in that tub for 4 hours. So when Virginia checked me and found that I was 5 cm she said, "okay... out of the tub!" Brent and I walked up and down my stairs twice and then I felt a strong need to be in my kitchen. Virginia and I stood at the kitchen counter. She had me write (with my left-hand) words that came to mind in the middle of contractions. It forced me to focus through the pain and as I started verbalizing what was in my head a light switched on for me and I dropped to my knees when it became clear that the only thing holding me back was me. I was ready but I had to become louder than my fear. So the next contraction I yelled "I release I release I release."
That phrase got me THERE but he didn't come until I said, "I surrender." It was like he was waiting for that all along. On my knees, upright in front of my stove I faced my fear, surrendered and gave birth to my son. He was born in caul (which is just amazing to me.) In fact, Virginia tried to break the bag but couldn't! He shot out of me like a rocket… one push for his head and the next for the rest of him. He had been ready all along. It was me who had been the stubborn one.
I walked to my bedroom carrying my son minutes after giving birth to him. I think that was honestly my proudest memory of the whole thing for whatever reason.
My birth team never left me. Virginia and Michelle (my doula) are my heroes. I really don't know how to thank them and they will be family to me for the rest of my life. Brent was amazing. He knew just what I needed when I needed it and I fell in love with him all over again. My son has changed the way I view everything. I look at him and I regret every stupid thing I have ever done and every time I lost sight of what is truly important. He burps like a trucker and snores like his father so I may never get a full night’s sleep again but I've never been more in love.
A few pictures of him: One, Two, Three. He was 6lbs even and 19.5 inches long... my little string bean!
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Wonderful pictures too and very cool how they tell the story.
