Maris

I had my 40 week appointment with my midwife Traci and up until that point had not experienced any signs that labor was coming. My due date was October 15th. In the afternoon, I had some contractions that were semi consistent but not nearly strong or serious enough to be taken seriously. I did have some bloody show, took a shower in the evening, and things seemed to stop. I decided to rest and stayed up watching Schitt's Creek. Something funny to make me laugh.

Things started picking up later. It was about 1:40am that contractions felt a little more legit. I timed them for an hour and tried to take another shower. The water didn't make them stop and they continued to be consistent. After some texting with my doula and midwife and a solid hour of labor passing, I gave John the nod to make the official bat signal call for the birth team to assemble. My mom and doula Britany arrived, followed by my midwife Traci and her team and then my birth photographer Kathryn. Around 3am, contractions were still consistent and slowly growing stronger but it was relaxed. Britany massaged my hip area and after awhile, recommended we try to get some rest if we were able to. I wasn't able to sleep but it was nice to just try to relax between contractions and being in the comfort of my own bed and home was amazing. John was able to get an hour of sleep which I knew we'd need.

After awhile, I couldn't lie down any longer and Britany suggested we take a walk in the cool early morning air. That was a first. Things you get to do in a home birth! If it had been any other time of year, I would have said no thanks but the thought of the changing October temperatures and the quiet of the morning sounded appealing so we set out with my mom for a turn around the block. I won't say it was the funnest walk of my life but Britany helped me work through my contractions and walk through them to better aid baby girl in her migration downward.

When we got home, I was fed snacks and juice and asked Traci to check my progress. I was only a 3-4 dilated. I was disappointed. But I also could feel the brewing labor in my body and knew that things were going to progress fast. I don't know how to describe it. There's an unspoken momentum and I was especially aware of it with Moses and with this baby. I knew once we got a little closer, things were going to pick up. Traci asked if I wanted her to strip my membranes and even though I swore I'd never do it again after Moses (shudder), I said yes. I wanted progress and I wanted it faster.

It wasn't until about this time that I began to get the impression my birth team was not as aware of this momentum as I was. In fact, I started to worry they weren't expecting things to happen for a while. And a water birthing tub takes time to fill. I did not want to miss my chance to use it because it wasn't ready (something that happened to a dear friend of mine. But I also wasn't supposed to get in until I was at least a 7. 

Now, natural childbirth is as much a mental hurdle as it is physical. Sometimes more mental than anything else. Each labor has taught me different things that I brought to the table, ready to improve or do differently or successes to tap into. But one thing all of my labors have had in common is having to push (no pun intended) mind over matter and fight the fleshly battle of contractions in whichever way was called for. For my first two babies, I had to fight the urge to push for literally hours. Now, I kind of question if that was entirely necessary but it did teach me to reign in control of my body, even when I didn't want to. With my third baby, I had to lie down during the most intense stage of labor and being someone who highly relies on being physically active when needed during labor, this was HORRIBLE. But again, it taught me, and my doula helped me learn, to mentally climb over each contraction as they came since I had no physical distraction to pull from.

So, when my birth team said maybe they should go out and get some breakfast, I was more than a little concerned. But I digress. Being a mental battle, you are very, very preoccupied. Beyond a certain point, you do not have the mental capacity to think through, "Oh, they don't think I'm as far into labor as I believe I am...I should probably speak up." I remember just thinking that that was a bad idea, and I fixated more on the tub being ready, and me being ready for the tub. 

Contractions grew stronger. After using the birthing ball for a bit, Britany suggested another walk, this time with John. On our way out, Sabine came out of her room. As soon as she saw me, the biggest smile broke out across her face. She KNEW what was happening and she was giddy. 

On our walk, Britany brought a heated rice sock and laid it across my neck. The heat contrasting with the cold of the early morning was a nice distraction from the growing storm inside of me. I found it hard to work through each surge and almost asked to turn back several times. But we made it around the block. I could feel my body shaking around this point, both from cold and also from the transition stage of labor.

Back at the house, I made it back to my room and ran into P in the hallway. Her demeanor was definitely more anxious than her sister's but she was also excited.

In my room, I tried to listen to music and sit on the birthing ball but it became too much. I asked to be checked and Britany, knowing I wanted to be in the birthing tub, suggested I try to take a bath in the meantime. That lasted all of 3 minutes. I could not get comfortable in the bath tub and struggled being in any position. Which told me we were getting close. 

I got out and again asked to be checked and while they went to get Traci, Sabine sat with me and gave me a kiss. I could hear Britany telling her how strong I was as I worked through another contraction.

My blood pressure and baby's heartbeat were checked (both great) and then Traci checked and I was 90% effaced and 7cm! It was time for the tub! I could hear them working to fill it as I focused inward and entered this kind of daze. Penelope came in at one point to say goodbye as they were going to school soon. I could tell she was still nervous about what was happening.

Contractions were impossible to work through with just breathing anymore and I turned my head and rubbed my face and made noise, anything to focus through to the other side.

FINALLY. The tub was ready. Sabine showed up one last time and said she wished SHE could get in the tub (LOL). I stepped in and it was much warmer than I expected and it was a welcome relief as soon as I hit the water. I remember thinking, "We're here! We made it!" After so many unknowns leading us to the end of this journey, I had released the hope of a water birth from my hands and mentally prepared myself for the possible plot twist if any complications arose (my blood pressure had been a continuous concern). Birth cannot be planned but it can be prepared for and those are two very different things. I prepared myself for another outcome and so when I actually hit that water, I felt a deep rooted sense of victory. We had gotten this far.

Something about the pressure and the load that water takes off just being in it is so very soothing. But contractions were hard and strong and even in such nice warm water, I struggled to find the "right" position to be in. Because nothing felt good. Nothing felt right. I finally settled on kneeling and holding onto the side and resting my head while John (although I didn't know it was him until later) poured water over my back, which was a nice distraction. Sabine stayed by my side until she was ushered off to school. I'm pretty sure if she had had the choice, she would have stayed to catch. 

I began to feel the urge to push and told Traci. Her words: "And I think you should honor that. If you feel like pushing, go ahead and push, or if you want to wait until you have more of an urgency, you can do that too." What?! I couldn't believe it. After 3 births where pushing very much felt like something taken out of my hands and control (people literally pushing you into a certain position and then telling you what to do), it was bizarre and empowering being told I got to call the shots. Because, after all, why wouldn't I? Is it my body and labor or not?

I allowed my body to push at will to see how it was and it was nice to have no urgency, no panic, a completely different mood from every other time. A few contractions in, I decided to get a little more serious and I could tell we were getting very close. I didn't realize at the time that my last doula had taught me to push silently very well...maybe a little too well. Because it wasn't until later that my birth team would tell me they had no idea I was about to give birth. I could feel her descent and thought I should say something because I wasn't sure if everyone was aware. So, I said, "She's coming." And within the next contraction, I felt my water break. She crowned and was out within 2 or 3 pushes and I heard Traci say, "Baby is born! Mama, your baby is below you." And then she said the birth time was 8:08am. I had imagined catching her but found myself so physically spent that I couldn't move. Traci guided her out and John was the first to hold her, lifting her out of the water, without her uttering much of a cry but saying a lot of mutterings. She had been picked up from behind through my legs so, with some assistance, I stepped over the umbilical cord and sat back and laid eyes on my girl for the first time. John handed her to me and she laid in my arms and a towel was wrapped around her. 

As with my other babies, my first reaction is just to marvel at this new little face that I don't quite recognize yet but soon will and at the incredible softness of her skin, even the softness of her umbilical cord that was still uncut. I was struck with how very much vernix covered her and resisted the urge to wipe her clean as I knew it would aid her in regulating her temperature among other things. I was struck with her serene temperament, as if she hadn't just been squeezed from her cozy home into a strange new world full of new and confusing demands. I'm not kidding when I say she didn't give us a legit cry until her first night. We tried to nurse right there in the water.

I think it was about this point that it all hit me. I've never cried after delivery, at least not right away. But the tears came and I choked out, "I did it." I don't know if I had really realized how much of a dream this had been for me and it had been realized. I did it.

As I soaked her up, I began bleeding a little more than we wanted so the cord was cut (by John) once it was done pulsating and I was moved to the bed where we were wrapped in towels and assessed. I was given some pitocin to stop the bleeding and I delivered my placenta which Traci later showed to us. It seemed kind of little! The perfect little home for a little baby. Baby and I were checked out and footprints were taken. Maris Daphne Esperanza was 7 lbs 15.5 oz, so basically 8lbs, and 21 inches long, my longest baby. She was and is pure perfection and joy embodied. 

I had zero tearing and bleeding quickly became more manageable. 

My mom returned from dropping off the girls and Moses had heard a new little voice protesting during Maris' exam from the hallway and he said to my mom, "Baby?" When we gave them the okay, they came in and he got to meet his baby sister for the first time and asked to hold her right away which about killed me with cuteness. I was glad he got to meet her on his own with no one else to compete with. Needless to say, he was smitten.

After a bit, an herbal bath was drawn for me and I was assisted to the bathroom to relieve myself and soak. I swear that bath was amazing. I swear whatever was in it helped me experience less swelling than ever before. Britany, my mom, and Traci each came in to chat and praise me on an amazing labor. I broke down again and thanked Traci for supporting me and offering a different option than everything else out there. I don't remember what I actually said. Something like that. Hopefully it made sense. I remember she gave me a hug, soaking wet naked in the bath and all. There are so many moments during and after labor where I was naked and I remember not caring and wondering if anyone else cared and assuming they didn't because they were obviously in this line of work. Labor entails a lot of gore and nudity. And by the end, you just don't care. You hand off some blood clots to your midwife like it's nothing and she takes them like it's the most normal thing in the world. This is real and this is the truth.

After the bath, I was helped out and dried off by multiple people (by now, I began feeling kind of like an Egyptian Princess), assisted into my Depends (definitely less of an Egyptian Princess), given a shirt, and then led back to my room. What met me there was shocking: the tub was already gone. I didn't even notice them emptying it or putting it away. I remember hearing the rustle of cleaning but not seeing it. My room was now clean, my bed was made and the covers turned down and baby and I (and John!) were tucked into bed for a nap. Our room and bathroom was left cleaner than it had been when everyone had arrived.

John's take away was that the experience was so peaceful and relaxed and dare I say quiet. He keeps saying he wishes we could have done it with all of them!

A few final thoughts: 

I had no IV and no blood draws. I had no heart monitor worn or blood pressure cuff. I had no unasked for cervical checks. I had no one forcing me into the "right" or "normal" position for pushing or anything else. I was never told I couldn't do something. I got to sleep in my own bed, not woken every 2 hours for labs, tests, or other random hospital disturbances. My baby and I had 4 people dedicated to our care and focused on our well-being. And that's not counting John.

Your birth experience is kind of like a tattoo. It's a part of you forever. If the only tattoo you ever had was a tramp stamp you let the discount tattoo artist draw on you without you seeing it first, you might still think it was pretty good. You have no point of reference, after all.

But when you get a real piece of art by a tattoo artist who loves what they do and has worked years at their craft, who has made every effort to understand your desires and vision for this tattoo that you will wear for the rest of your life. That is when you get it. You understand the value of research, of finding someone who is not only good at what they do but also a pleasant person to interact with. It's something you can't unlearn once you've learned it. And it's a much better experience to put the effort in from the get-go of learning all you can about what you hope your birth experience to be versus going in blind and hoping for the best, resting your once-in-a-lifetime birth experience in the hands of someone who simply put DOES NOT value it like you do. They can't. It's not their experience. It's yours. Treat it like the gift it is. And don't leave it to chance.

I felt deeply that the date Maris would arrive would be significant. I don't believe in chance and often find God in the minute details we can easily miss. At a glance, things seem so ordinary...and then you see it and it screams to you of His hand.

Several feast days of significant saints passed and I wondered who she might share a date with. On October 15th, her due date and the feast day of St. Teresa of Avila, the day closed and I tried to rest in the words of my midwife at our 40 week appointment that day: "She's just going to pick her own birthday."

October 15th is also Infant and Pregnancy Loss Awareness Day. Having Maris be our 2nd rainbow baby, I found this deeply significant. In the evening, we lit a candle to honor our two babies in heaven, Simeon and Matilda, and to ask for their intercession as their baby sister began her journey into the world. 

Then labor began. When things seemed to be truly progressing, I tried to rest and looked to see whose feast day it was on the 16th. And I was left speechless.

October 16th: the feast day of St. Gerard Majella, patron saint of children, the unborn, childbirth, expectant mothers, and mothers.

WOW.

Photo: Kathryn J Birth Stories