The beginning
I had been born of a midwife, her first assisted catch. The midwifes mentor helped with advice and I was born in her house since my parents chose that option. So two midwives hald my mothers hand and the story was one that shaped the others and brought me to dream of my waterbirthed baby from a young age.
25 years later I was with child, lost it, had a d&c and was clinically depressed for five months and could not take pills because I could ruin my chances to attempt to conceive again. The Armed forces had plenty of resources for me to handle and work this through but my unit, sadly, was not one of them.
and five months after my loss I had a "positive" for pregnancy.
I had a high risk pregnancy from early on. My last had been tubluar. This one I was encouraged not to work out, to relax, to walk only, and to be careful.
I had a beautiful pregnancy, very sweet but also very tiring. I was lucky that my doctors had alot of homeopathic training and had alot of helpful tips that kept me from bedrest and diabetes which were beckoning from a fine line veil status.
Two weeks and three days early, so technially three weeks I had contractions, hard, long, stable and repeated and closing for six hours, lost the plug but not waters and had a day to check on it in the hospital. They were about to realease me when I popped from hard stair walking and squatting (hubby gave me a little massage in bed and it was incredible..sooo it was both) And my doula said five centimeters in four hours was promiseing. then six in seven hours..I was tacking quick and fine. Then I stopped. ENTIRELY. for two days. Everything, walking, squatting, two rounds of pitocin, no drugs, water, massage, all pressure points, belly massage and nothing. I decided one last dip in the tub before I signed the C section papers and delivered her safely before waiting would get worse and against all safety protocals (the germans had been kind and would have let me try longer but truely it was doing no good, My body had decided to stop opening and she was waiting quite impatently.
Completely unprepared in heart, mind, spirit and shocked that all my intentions, training, upbringing had fallen into a reliance on modern medicine and that I would not hold my DD in the first few minutes, that I would not see her until I had been safely restored like some bizarre defunkt human incapable of doing this one little thing I should be pretty good at I gave hubby the permission to wait outside. The doula who had trained in such manners was great, in a clinical manner she told me I truely had a skilled surgeon who would leave me with a tiny little ribbon of a scar. She was an angel, she spoke to me, told me stories, kept me from being overwhealmed and then the doctors uneveloped my whole soul by telling me they were graced to deliver my daughter WITH me. The doctor said I was very strong and brave to give them the ability to work upon my body and to leave my child in thier care for any amount of time. TYA, they spoke her name, only after they wrapped her and handed her to the doula for me! to talk to her and kiss her and nuzzle this child so sad, shocked and angry at the sudden arrival in such an undignified manner!
Born on holy ground, a church turned hospital four hundred years ago...a darlang angel princess, a little fairy all wrinkled and with a frown until I said she was so beautiful and she had every right to be scared and fussy, but soon I'd hold her and kiss her and then I did..I kissed her and breathed on her cheek and told her the beginning was over and it gets better from then on.
The doula gave her to my hubby, and came back to stay at my side.
My daughter learned kisses, gentle breathing and warm hugs from dada until I nursed her half an hour later.
Because I decided on a c section I had less then fifteen minutes worth of drugs before she was a part of the world...because I made a good decision in a very emotionally charged moment I had a 100% healthy daughter and know that I will never have to wonder if I did a good thing or if I could have something.
I always though it would scar my memories if I had a bad experience in a hospital, but this experience was painful, trying, hard, yet not bad. My daughter was healthy, safe, and very well attached and despite a little painkillers (the germans gave me 400 milligram ibuprpphen every 6 hours for the "harder pain and encouraged me to walk so I would heal faster.) drugfree and she nursed and slept in our arms more then half of the next eight days of my stay. I held a tiny, skinny, healthy, amazing child in my arms who snuggled and fell asleep on my chest with perfection. I could eat whatever I wanted, I could drink whatever I wanted, I could have my husband in the room. I was exceptionally lucky that I could experience the "scary" side in such a gentle, loving, wholistic manner.
My heart healed in a moment of her cry, my body has taken a good deal longer. Currently a tiny angel is eating her peanut butter and raisans on a spoon with utter delight and I'm assured that my 6 inch "smilely" is indeed quite small and indischipherable unless you look very close and as hubby says it is a permenent reminder of our blessings in life.,
Some things go better then you planned in ways you never imagined.
