After a month of prodromal labor, complete with painful contractions, loss of mucus plug, and other seemingly obvious signs that labor was imminent, I was extremely fatigued. I wasn't sleeping at all and my energy levels were very low. This worried me quite a bit, as I had labored for twelve hours and pushed for two with my first baby, and figured I'd need as much energy as possible to have this baby at home.
By the time I hit 40 weeks I was utterly exhausted and incredibly uncomfortable. I went to 41 weeks with my son, so I thought I might go late with this pregnancy too--but it was still rather disconcerting when my due date came and went and still no baby.
At 40 weeks and two days, I awoke from a fitful sleep to some very strong and painful contractions that kept me awake for several hours. I tried to stay in bed and rest as much as possible, and at one point I fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later and the contractions were completely gone. Annoyed but somewhat used to it by then, I went about my day in the usual tired stupor.
That night at around eleven o'clock, DH and I settled into bed with our toddler, who had been put to bed hours before. I felt strangely unsettled and nervous and told myself it was just hormones. I dozed lightly for a couple of hours, until sometime after 1AM a strong contraction gripped me. It was sudden, very powerful, and enough to make me gasp. The pain was sharp, not achy and crampy as in my first labor. It radiated from my back to my front and seemed to last forever. I leaped out of bed and began to pace our creaky bedroom loft while DH and our son slept on, oblivious. And then as suddenly as it came, the contraction was gone. I crawled back into bed and tried to relax, only to be bounced to my feet again by another strong contraction, this one more intense than the first.
I got up and went downstairs and tried to pace as quietly as I could as the contractions began coming in huge waves. It was happening so fast that I was sure it couldn't be labor, not real labor, because I remembered being able to joke and talk through early labor with my first baby. This time I was serious, very serious, right away. Time was a blur as I paced the living room and guest room and occasionally spent time on the toilet moaning my way through contractions. At one point my bowel emptied itself and I began to fully understand that this was the real thing.
Some time later (we estimate it was about thirty minutes after that first painful contraction), DH woke and noticed my absence from the bed. He paused to listen for me and heard me moaning in the bathroom a floor below. I remember him coming to me in the guest room and asking if he should call our doula, Lisa, who fortunately lived nearby. I told him yes but not to call Denise, our midwife, just yet as I was sure it would be at least a few more hours before we needed her.
He called Lisa, who told him to call Denise when the contractions were four or five minutes apart. During that brief call he and Lisa heard me moaning through two contractions very close together and jointly decided to call Denise right away.
Meanwhile, DH ran around like an efficient machine getting the birthing pool ready. He moved our coffee table out of the way, threw down a large painter's tarp, and set up the birthing pool. As it inflated, he got me a cold drink and held me while I groaned and swayed through the contractions. They were getting so strong I could barely stay upright, and although it sort of embarrassed me to do it, I found I had to loudly moo and groan like a cow to get through them. Leaning forward hurt incredibly, as did sitting or lying down. All I could do was clutch DH's arms and lean backward, swaying my hips from side to side and trying to rock the baby down.
Lisa arrived and took over the job of supporting me through contractions while DH finished setting up the birth pool and hose. It began to fill and I was getting increasingly desperate to climb in. I hadn't stripped off my nightgown yet but wanted to. My teeth were chattering and my knees shook and I couldn't seem to make it clear that I was simultaneously hot and cold and just miserably uncomfortable. Words weren't coming out right and it was then that I realized I must be in or getting close to transition. And then I totally lost track of everything as wave after wave of contractions hit me and I became a laboring animal, completely drowning in the birth.
If I'm honest with myself, it was terrifying. I kept repeating Ina May's mantra that the pain wouldn't get bigger than me, because it was me. I tried to stay grounded but felt totally surreal, almost dissociated. I knew I was safe, but I felt like I was dying. And through it all my body kept swaying and I kept moaning, just going with what felt instinctively right.
At some point Denise arrived and at about that time the pool was halfway filled. Unable to wait any longer, I stripped off my gown and climbed in, kneeling and leaning against the soft inflated side of the tub while first DH, and then Lisa, held my arms and supported me. I felt nauseated and asked for something to vomit into, but didn't actually get sick. I yelled out something like, "I can't do this, oh, please, somebody help me!" and then suddenly I had the urge to push. It was totally involuntary and very surprising; during my first birth, I never felt a pushing urge at all.
We hadn't turned the hot water heater up high enough and the water was getting cold as it poured from the hose near me, but I didn't care as I started letting my body push the baby down. I could actually feel her arms and legs wriggling as she moved through my body, which was the strangest feeling. She was coming fast, so fast that Denise gently asked me to hold back for a few seconds so I wouldn't tear. I found out later that I crowned so quickly she didn't even have time to put on her gloves. After a few hard pushes that were mostly involuntary but did require a little bit of work, the baby's head emerged with a pop. Her shoulders were a bit locked and Denise had me turn to the side so she could gently dislodge them. Once the shoulders were out, the rest of her slithered out like a wet fish and Denise was telling me to lean back and take my baby in my arms.
I sat back in the water, somewhat in shock, and brought this gray little mewling alien to my chest. The bag of waters was intact, just like with my son's birth, and the midwife gently tugged the caul off her face as she pulled her from the water. The baby no longer looked alien; she was beautiful and perfect. She pinked up and latched on to my breast almost instantly, nursing before her cord had even stopped pulsing. A few minutes later I painlessly delivered the placenta and DH cut her cord. The whole thing had taken about ninety minutes from start to finish.
Despite the speed of the birth, I had no tearing and very little soreness, especially compared to my first birth with DS. The placenta was huge and healthy and Lisa and DH immediately began preparing it to be dehydrated and encapsulated. Cleanup was a breeze, since I hadn't had time to make much of a mess, and within two hours of Matilda's birth everything was put away and we were all snuggled up together in the bed, staring in awe at the beautiful little girl who'd come at last.
I'd hoped that my two-year-old son would sleep through the labor and birth, and he did--mostly. DH told me later that when I was pushing, he looked up and saw Felix standing at the railing of the bedroom loft, a floor above, staring down and pointing at me and signing "baby". This, despite him never having watched a birth video. How he knew what we were doing still eludes me. After Matilda was born, DH brought Felix down to meet her. He was signing "baby" over and over again and when he went to gently touch her face, he was so excited his little hands were shaking. He spent the entire night and next day running around and signing "baby" and touching Matilda's feet and hands constantly. Now, a week later, he proudly reaches for his baby "essstah" at every opportunity.
At 3:12AM on October 25th, 2010, Matilda Charlotte (Maude, for short) was born at home in the water. She weighed nine pounds even and was just over twenty inches long. Her birth was very fast and much more intense than I'd expected, but she was born healthy, happy, and whole--just as I'd prayed she'd be. She makes little kitten sounds, nurses enthusiastically, and is a champion snuggler already.
We are very blessed.
Matilda, at just a few hours old:
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1947
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1948
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1949
By the time I hit 40 weeks I was utterly exhausted and incredibly uncomfortable. I went to 41 weeks with my son, so I thought I might go late with this pregnancy too--but it was still rather disconcerting when my due date came and went and still no baby.
At 40 weeks and two days, I awoke from a fitful sleep to some very strong and painful contractions that kept me awake for several hours. I tried to stay in bed and rest as much as possible, and at one point I fell asleep. I woke up a few hours later and the contractions were completely gone. Annoyed but somewhat used to it by then, I went about my day in the usual tired stupor.
That night at around eleven o'clock, DH and I settled into bed with our toddler, who had been put to bed hours before. I felt strangely unsettled and nervous and told myself it was just hormones. I dozed lightly for a couple of hours, until sometime after 1AM a strong contraction gripped me. It was sudden, very powerful, and enough to make me gasp. The pain was sharp, not achy and crampy as in my first labor. It radiated from my back to my front and seemed to last forever. I leaped out of bed and began to pace our creaky bedroom loft while DH and our son slept on, oblivious. And then as suddenly as it came, the contraction was gone. I crawled back into bed and tried to relax, only to be bounced to my feet again by another strong contraction, this one more intense than the first.
I got up and went downstairs and tried to pace as quietly as I could as the contractions began coming in huge waves. It was happening so fast that I was sure it couldn't be labor, not real labor, because I remembered being able to joke and talk through early labor with my first baby. This time I was serious, very serious, right away. Time was a blur as I paced the living room and guest room and occasionally spent time on the toilet moaning my way through contractions. At one point my bowel emptied itself and I began to fully understand that this was the real thing.
Some time later (we estimate it was about thirty minutes after that first painful contraction), DH woke and noticed my absence from the bed. He paused to listen for me and heard me moaning in the bathroom a floor below. I remember him coming to me in the guest room and asking if he should call our doula, Lisa, who fortunately lived nearby. I told him yes but not to call Denise, our midwife, just yet as I was sure it would be at least a few more hours before we needed her.
He called Lisa, who told him to call Denise when the contractions were four or five minutes apart. During that brief call he and Lisa heard me moaning through two contractions very close together and jointly decided to call Denise right away.
Meanwhile, DH ran around like an efficient machine getting the birthing pool ready. He moved our coffee table out of the way, threw down a large painter's tarp, and set up the birthing pool. As it inflated, he got me a cold drink and held me while I groaned and swayed through the contractions. They were getting so strong I could barely stay upright, and although it sort of embarrassed me to do it, I found I had to loudly moo and groan like a cow to get through them. Leaning forward hurt incredibly, as did sitting or lying down. All I could do was clutch DH's arms and lean backward, swaying my hips from side to side and trying to rock the baby down.
Lisa arrived and took over the job of supporting me through contractions while DH finished setting up the birth pool and hose. It began to fill and I was getting increasingly desperate to climb in. I hadn't stripped off my nightgown yet but wanted to. My teeth were chattering and my knees shook and I couldn't seem to make it clear that I was simultaneously hot and cold and just miserably uncomfortable. Words weren't coming out right and it was then that I realized I must be in or getting close to transition. And then I totally lost track of everything as wave after wave of contractions hit me and I became a laboring animal, completely drowning in the birth.
If I'm honest with myself, it was terrifying. I kept repeating Ina May's mantra that the pain wouldn't get bigger than me, because it was me. I tried to stay grounded but felt totally surreal, almost dissociated. I knew I was safe, but I felt like I was dying. And through it all my body kept swaying and I kept moaning, just going with what felt instinctively right.
At some point Denise arrived and at about that time the pool was halfway filled. Unable to wait any longer, I stripped off my gown and climbed in, kneeling and leaning against the soft inflated side of the tub while first DH, and then Lisa, held my arms and supported me. I felt nauseated and asked for something to vomit into, but didn't actually get sick. I yelled out something like, "I can't do this, oh, please, somebody help me!" and then suddenly I had the urge to push. It was totally involuntary and very surprising; during my first birth, I never felt a pushing urge at all.
We hadn't turned the hot water heater up high enough and the water was getting cold as it poured from the hose near me, but I didn't care as I started letting my body push the baby down. I could actually feel her arms and legs wriggling as she moved through my body, which was the strangest feeling. She was coming fast, so fast that Denise gently asked me to hold back for a few seconds so I wouldn't tear. I found out later that I crowned so quickly she didn't even have time to put on her gloves. After a few hard pushes that were mostly involuntary but did require a little bit of work, the baby's head emerged with a pop. Her shoulders were a bit locked and Denise had me turn to the side so she could gently dislodge them. Once the shoulders were out, the rest of her slithered out like a wet fish and Denise was telling me to lean back and take my baby in my arms.
I sat back in the water, somewhat in shock, and brought this gray little mewling alien to my chest. The bag of waters was intact, just like with my son's birth, and the midwife gently tugged the caul off her face as she pulled her from the water. The baby no longer looked alien; she was beautiful and perfect. She pinked up and latched on to my breast almost instantly, nursing before her cord had even stopped pulsing. A few minutes later I painlessly delivered the placenta and DH cut her cord. The whole thing had taken about ninety minutes from start to finish.
Despite the speed of the birth, I had no tearing and very little soreness, especially compared to my first birth with DS. The placenta was huge and healthy and Lisa and DH immediately began preparing it to be dehydrated and encapsulated. Cleanup was a breeze, since I hadn't had time to make much of a mess, and within two hours of Matilda's birth everything was put away and we were all snuggled up together in the bed, staring in awe at the beautiful little girl who'd come at last.
I'd hoped that my two-year-old son would sleep through the labor and birth, and he did--mostly. DH told me later that when I was pushing, he looked up and saw Felix standing at the railing of the bedroom loft, a floor above, staring down and pointing at me and signing "baby". This, despite him never having watched a birth video. How he knew what we were doing still eludes me. After Matilda was born, DH brought Felix down to meet her. He was signing "baby" over and over again and when he went to gently touch her face, he was so excited his little hands were shaking. He spent the entire night and next day running around and signing "baby" and touching Matilda's feet and hands constantly. Now, a week later, he proudly reaches for his baby "essstah" at every opportunity.
At 3:12AM on October 25th, 2010, Matilda Charlotte (Maude, for short) was born at home in the water. She weighed nine pounds even and was just over twenty inches long. Her birth was very fast and much more intense than I'd expected, but she was born healthy, happy, and whole--just as I'd prayed she'd be. She makes little kitten sounds, nurses enthusiastically, and is a champion snuggler already.
We are very blessed.
Matilda, at just a few hours old:
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1947
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1948
http://www.mothering.com/discussions...pictureid=1949
Thank you for sharing your powerful story and beautiful daughter!
