Ed (husband)
Nicky (our 2-year-old son)
Maria (midwife)
Abigail (Maria’s apprentice)
My mom
A strong contraction woke me up at 3:00 Friday morning. I got up to go to the bathroom, then went back to sleep. Another woke me up at about 5, then another at 7:30. In between, my belly was really tight, but the few contractions I felt were not strong or rhythmic. I got up, went about my day taking care of Nicky, pacing around the house to see if that would help move things along. The day before had been very similar, but this time I knew I was getting closer because I had lost my mucus plug with one of the strong contractions.
It was a beautiful day, warm and sunny after several days of rain, and I was tempted to take Nicky out for a walk, but I was afraid to because I had been having nerve pain in my left leg for several days; when it hit, I couldn’t control my leg and would have to sit down right away. So I stayed at home but tried to walk around as much as possible. Still, the contractions were mostly light and irregular all day. I called Ed at work and Maria and told them this might be the day, but I wasn’t sure yet. My mom came by to take Nicky out for a while, which was great since it gave me some time to focus inward and pay attention to my body’s needs. I discovered that I was very hungry and spent most of this time stuffing my face!
By early afternoon, when Nicky went down for his nap, I was feeling very restless and wanted to get out of the house, but I knew I needed help to do that. So I called Ed and asked him to come home in a couple of hours, and meanwhile I went to bed, as I usually did when Nicky napped. I slept for an hour or so and then another really strong contraction woke me up. Like the other strong ones of the early morning, it sent me straight to the bathroom when it was over. My system was cleaning itself out in preparation for birth.
When Ed got home and Nicky woke up, we spent some time in the back yard, Nicky eating a snack and me pacing around. We also started filling up the labor tub, which had been sitting empty in the living room for more than 3 weeks. Finally we got to go for a walk around the block. As we walked, I started having stronger contractions, and we had to stop a few times so I could lean on Ed. We passed one of our neighbors standing in his front door, and he grinned and nodded knowingly. It seemed like everyone on the block knew that I was overdue and they were happy to finally see some action!
By the time we got home, my “bad” leg was feeling really sore, so I sat down on the couch for a while. Right away, the contractions stopped, and I started to think maybe it wasn’t really labor yet. I called Maria again and told her that things hadn’t changed a whole lot since that morning. She said it sounded like I was just having a long early labor, and told me to have a good dinner, go to bed, and call her when the contractions got stronger and more regular.
Ed got take-out from my favorite Mexican restaurant, and as I was eating my crab enchiladas, I started feeling stronger contractions again. It was around 7 pm when they started to feel somewhat rhythmic, and it wasn’t too long before I had to use my breathing and relaxation techniques to cope with some of them. Nicky didn’t seem too excited when we told him that Mama’s body was starting to work hard to get the baby out. I had practiced having “contractions” before so he would know what to expect and not be scared when I started to act funny.
I managed to participate in Nicky’s bedtime routine as usual, giving him extra hugs and kisses as I tucked him in, feeling a little sad that this would be his last night as an only child. We told Nicky that he might hear Mama making those funny noises tonight and that was OK; that was exactly what was supposed to happen. He didn’t seem too interested—we had been telling him that the baby was coming soon for so long, I think he had stopped taking us seriously!
Once Nicky was asleep, Ed and I settled down for a night of laboring. I tried going to bed but couldn’t rest, so I moved back to the living room and tried various positions, using my birth ball and various pieces of furniture until the contractions got so strong that I had to use relaxation and vocalization every time. I retreated to the bed and told Ed to call Maria. She came over about a half hour later, at around 10. Abigail arrived a few minutes later.
By then, I really wanted to get into the labor tub but the water was too hot. So while Maria took my vitals and checked the baby’s heart rate, Ed poured ice into the tub. Maria checked me and said I was 3 cm dilated. I was disappointed to hear this because I was already feeling like the contractions were hard to handle, and it seemed I still had a long way to go. I tried getting into the tub again and this time it felt good, although it was still a little hotter than the recommended 98-100 degrees. Ed kept pouring more cold water in until the temp came down a bit more. Being in the water was great. It didn’t ease the pain very much, but it was a lot more comfortable since I could float during contractions instead of feeling my weight pressing me down. I felt best when Ed, kneeling outside of the tub behind me, held me under the arms during contractions, keeping my head out of the water while I let the rest of my body relax. The water was nice and deep, enough to completely cover my big belly as I floated up off the bottom of the tub. Abigail checked the baby’s heart rate intermittently, something I was happy to see she could do in or out of the water, without requiring me to change position at all.
Eventually I had to pee, so I reluctantly left the tub. Afterward I tried laboring out of the water for a while, taking a couple of contractions standing up, leaning against Ed, and then, finding that incredibly painful, sitting in our big living room chair. Ultimately I just wanted to get back into the water. My legs were starting to ache with each contraction, something the water made more tolerable.
The contractions got harder and harder to handle. Ed and I were using all the tricks we had learned in our Bradley lessons, but I was barely coping. Also, the tub’s heater wasn’t working properly and the water was getting cooler than I liked. Maria and Abigail took turns holding me while Ed boiled a pot of water to pour into the tub. I was a wreck by then—wailing and complaining that this was too hard and I couldn’t do it anymore. Ed was doing his best to offer support, and Maria and Abigail thought he was being a great coach, but I needed something more, not knowing what. I turned to the women and whimpered, “Help me.” Maria knelt beside me and spoke in a calm, strong voice that somehow was just what I needed. It wasn’t her words exactly that soothed me—I don’t even remember what she said beyond a basic “take it one contraction at a time,” but something about her voice—maybe because it was a woman’s voice, or maybe because during my pregnancy I had come to associate her voice with wisdom—centered me and helped me focus.
Maria said if I started to feel the urge to push, or the need to poop, I should speak up. After just a few more contractions, I did in fact feel like I had to poop. Maria had me get out of the tub and go to the bed, where Abigail checked me and said I was at 8 cm. They reassured me that it would not take long to get to 10. Ed went to call my mom, who wanted to see the birth, and who we were also relying on to look after Nicky, whom we wanted to awaken for the birth. I stayed on the bed, struggling to cope with the incredibly powerful contractions that hurt from my ribs all the way down to my knees. I was alternately shivering and sweating, and Abigail and Ed patiently covered and uncovered me with a blanket over and over again.
When the urge to push came, it was a shock. I had never felt it with my first birth, so I hadn’t known what to expect. I don’t know what other women feel, but for me it was not an urge but a requirement. My body began to push all on its own, and at the same time forced me to bear down whether or not I wanted to. The pushing contractions were so forceful that I found my body lifting itself off the bed and my legs trembling uncontrollably. Abigail quickly checked me again and found just a small lip of cervix left, but there was no stopping my body. It was pushing and that was that.
I struggled to find a comfortable pushing position on the bed and could not. My legs hurt so badly that I didn’t think they would support me in a squat. So I said I wanted to go back into the tub if it was still warm enough. Maria said, “We’ll make it warm enough.” Ed headed back to the kitchen to boil another pot of water while the women helped me off the bed. Once I was on my feet, I practically ran to the tub, brushing Ed out of my way just as he came out of the kitchen, muttering “Get me into that tub NOW.” I climbed into the water and floundered around for a fewseconds, seeking comfort and not finding much. Maria wanted me to sit on a stool so they could reach the baby when it came out, but with the next contraction my body came right off the stool and Ed had to grab me to keep my head from sinking. I panicked and screamed, feeling like my body was running away with the power of its own intent, and I was scrambling to keep up. My water broke with a gentle pop, redirecting my attention.
After another contraction or two I finally got on top of them and was able to anticipate and cooperate with my body’s demands. We assumed our previous laboring position, Ed holding me up from behind, except that now instead of floating I had my feet braced on the floor of the tub and my arms holding onto the sides. With each contraction, my belly would rise, and Maria and Abigail found that they had good access this way.
Ed went back to the kitchen to check on the pot of water between contractions, but much sooner than he expected, Abigail said she could feel the head coming out. He abandoned the pot and came back to hold me up. As the head emerged, Maria and Abigail told me not to push, to breathe the baby out and let everything stretch. I did my best, panting and blowing between pushes, but couldn’t help pushing when my body demanded it. As the head crowned, it stung terribly, and I begged them to “get it out get it out get it out!” Abigail spoke reassuringly, saying everything was stretching nicely and to take it slowly. Finally she said that with my next push, the baby’s head would be born. I never looked forward to a contraction so much in my life. When it came, I bore down with everything I had... and I pushed... and I pushed... and I pushed... and at last! out came the head. Another push brought the body out, and in one fluid motion Abigail caught and lifted the baby out of the water and onto my chest. After just a few seconds, the baby sputtered and began to cry. I held my newborn close, our bodies still in the water, feeling all the hard work and pain float away and pure exhilaration set in.
My mom walked through the door just seconds after the birth. When she asked Ed what she should do, he remembered the pot of water and said, “Go turn off the stove, then wake up Nicky.” She brought our sleeping son out of his room. I said, “Nicky, look, the baby came out!” and suddenly he was awake, wide-eyed, taking in the whole scene. As I looked down to see if Nicky had a brother or sister, I thought I heard Ed say, “It’s a boy.” Intuitively, I had been certain it was a boy, so I was ready to believe it after a quick glance at the jumble of umbilical cord between the baby’s legs. But then Maria said, “Guess again!” So I carefully lifted the cord out of the way and discovered that my intuition had been wrong, and we had a baby girl! “Hi, Natalie!” we said, and introduced Nicky to his new baby sister.
I offered my breast to Natalie but she wasn’t interested yet. After a few minutes, I handed the baby to Abigail, who dried her off and wrapped her up in blankets. Ed finally got to let go of me—he had been holding me up so I could keep the baby’s head out of the water. He went to hold our daughter while I climbed out of the tub. Maria was ready with towels and a pot, and I delivered the placenta with one easy push. Then she helped me into the bedroom, where someone had already laid out chux (waterproof) pads for me to sit on.
The next few hours went by in a rush of activity, although at the time it didn’t seem that way. I felt very nurtured and well cared for, and SO happy to be in my own familiar surroundings. Eventually I had to get up to pee, and afterward rinsed off in the shower, marveling at how nice it was not to have to deal with a narrow hospital shower, unfamiliar faucets, and lousy water pressure. Maria stayed with me in case my legs got shaky, and when I came out of the shower, I held a pad under me to catch the blood while she dried my legs—such service!
Meanwhile, my mom had brought a small cake, which Nicky decorated, complete with a candle. They brought it into the bedroom and we all sang “Happy Birthday” to Natalie. This had been Nicky’s idea during my pregnancy—he told me that when the baby was born, he would sing “Happy Birthday” and then we would have cake. That sounded good to me, so I asked my mom to arrange it.
The sun gradually brightened our home as everyone completed their tasks—Abigail taking our vitals, Maria doing the baby’s first checkup, baby Natalie latching on and nursing like a pro on the first try, Nicky running around being a 2-year-old, and the proud parents feeling overjoyed and very calm amid the activity. Maria stitched up my one small tear, which was a repeat of the tear I’d had at Nicky’s birth. I felt like I should be exhausted, but I wasn’t. (Of course, that would catch up with me later!) I felt secure and loved and peaceful. And when everyone left, and we began our first day as a family of four, I was so happy to be at home!
Natalie Christine Aaronwas born at home on Saturday, March 4 at 3:28 a.m. weighing 9 lbs 3 oz length 21 inches head circumference 14 inches very little blond hair blue eyes, for now
