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Sunday Aug 23rd, 1 day overdue, I caved and took the
castor oil. I took it about 9:45 am. Maybe 10 minutes
later I had my first contraction. They were 4-6
minutes apart for a few hrs, then 3-5 for about 2
more. I wasn't convinced yet, since I'd been prodromal
and having these patterns for weeks already. Neither
was Jay. He went golfing from about 11-2:00. About
3-3:30 they got consistently 2 minutes apart and much
stronger.
I was having horrible diarrhea at this point. It
didn't cause any cramping, but it was irritating my
hemorrhoids to the point I just couldn't stand it, it
hurt so incredibly badly. I decided to get in the
bath, since hot water helps them. The contractions
continued to get stronger over the next 10-15 minutes,
so I called Kip (the midwife). She said she believed
me that this was the real thing this time and to meet
her at the birth center at 4:30. So I climbed out and
told everyone we were on our way. (My parents had
flown in from FL the day before.) Jay was in the
middle of cooking dinner and had to leave everything.
He left the chicken in the oven because he thought
we'd be coming back home within the hour still
pregnant. I was excited because I knew we wouldn’t.
When we got there the bath was already running and
Julian (22 months) had to get in the bath right
away. He was so cute, playing with his dinosaurs in
there. I just rocked and relaxed through contractions
while everyone else was in a flurry of activity around
me. They were all excited, but by that point I was
just hunkering down to do what needed to be done.
There’s a sense of calm that comes over you when you
know you’re as prepared as you could possibly be to do
the thing that you can do best. When you’ve practiced
day and night to do the most natural thing in the
world. We’d taken hypnobirthing classes at the birth
center and practiced religiously every night. I got to
the point where all I had to do was hear Mary’s (the
hypnobirthing instructor) voice
on the cd, or the music I’d chosen for the birth and
practiced with, and I’d be asleep in under a minute.
I was calm and assured, in good spirits.
Julian started to sense something was up and began to
cling to Daddy. Good thing I didn't really need him
yet. I was still doing fine through contractions,
relaxing completely due to hypnobirthing. But I
continued to have diarrhea and it hurt the hemorrhoids
so badly that I decided to get in the bath again, even
though contractions weren't bad enough to make me want
the "midwives' epidural" yet.
But it soon got there. My parents and Julian's
caregiver took him outside to play w/bubbles and run
around so Jay was able to concentrate on me. I was
glad because they were starting to get hard. I was
starting to do soft low moans on the out breath to
keep myself relaxed. The water was helping so
much. Around 6:30 they were hard and I was moaning
loudly on the in and the out breaths. Jay did an
awesome job keeping me calm and keeping my breathing
under control, etc. For about 10 minutes it was
getting stronger and stronger and I was starting to
feel like women always do when they cave and get the
medication. I was feeling a little apprehensive, like
it was going so fast it might hurt worse than my
first. Luckily I knew these were the famous signposts
of transition, but there’s always a little scared part
of you, way in the back of your mind, that wants to
take over. Jay also recognized that I was getting
there, and started doing some imagery with me to keep
me calm. We pictured ocean waves and he breathed
loudly and slowly to give me a pattern to follow.
Then 2 came right after each other with no break and I
started to lose control. They were what I would call
actually painful, and it was so overwhelming I cried a
bit at the peak. Kip had just been sitting in the
kitchen knitting, letting us do our thing, until she
heard me crying through those 2. She came in and
started setting stuff up. I said "It's close, huh?"
She said "Well I don't know anything..." I said,
"No. You heard it." She laughed.
The next one came. Jay was still trying to keep me
relaxing, but this one was different and urgent. I
knew it was the end and there was no more relaxing.
But I couldn't get the breath, energy, time,
brain-power, you name it, to communicate that. Then,
at the end of the contraction, I felt pressure. When
Kip heard
me say pressure she told Jay that if he wanted to
catch it on film he'd better get it set up.
He was gone for 5 seconds to turn on the camera and
another one came fast where I had to push. I
wasn't even doing it, my body took over all on its
own. Jay dashed back over and helped me into a squat.
I was starting to get scared (my one fear was tearing
and being in as much pain postpartum as I was last
time), because my body was so powerful and I didn't
think I could control it. A month later I was still
trying to put into words what it really felt like. It
finally occurred to me, it
was like a rollercoaster (both physically and
emotionally,
really). But not like that part where you're going
down hill and you feel really light like you'll float
out of your seat. It's that part right where you hit
the bottom and start back up at the same break-neck
speed. Where it doesn't feel like gravity is
pulling you down, it's pushing you from
above and all around you, crushing all the air out of
your body, and all you can do is hunker down, grunt,
and hold on until it's over. I don't know how women
on TV are always told to not push! That seems to me
now like the most horrible torture a woman could ever
experience. I literally could not have not
pushed. My body was doing it and I was just along for
the ride. There was no "urge", just a fact: my body
was pushing whether I liked it or not.
I had that split
second freak out, where I wanted to fight my body,
because of my fear. But something in me switched like
a light and I trampled right over the fear to do what
had to be done. I helped my body push.
Jay was doing a great job “coaching” me, though
and keeping me calm. The second pushing contraction
came and Jay yelled "Whoa!" I opened my eyes, thinking
something was wrong, but he was just totally shocked
because he couldn't believe he was seeing her head
coming out already. I kept pushing through that
contraction. My water broke like an explosion (it
wasn't a pop, it was like a bomb had gone off), and I
groaned "There's my
water". Then her head crowned and I couldn't stop or
even slow down. I grunted "Oh, that's why they call it
the ring of fire!" I expected it to get much worse,
since I had no actual concept of how far out she was.
But her head immediately just popped right out. Then a
fraction of a second later, her shoulders, then her
body. Jay had been supporting her on her way out and
he pulled her out to hand her to me. I was so
relieved it was over! If Jay was a guy who cried,
he’d have been blubbering right there. I think it was
the most exciting thing he’s ever done and I know
he would never trade the experience for the world.
I took her and sat back in the tub to look. Kip just
kept standing and watching. She knew this was just how
we'd wanted to do it, so she let us do it. Jay was
unbelievably excited and just kept saying over and
over, in this high joyful/excited voice, how beautiful
she was and how great I did. She nursed after about 5
minutes. We decided then to name her Eva Lillian. She
was born at 6:58 pm, 8 lbs 2oz, 20 1/2 in long.
I felt so good after the delivery, physically and
emotionally, and I still do. I can't believe that
part. I didn't tear at all, and she's better than me
at nursing. I feel connected to Kip now, too. She
was so great to me during the whole experience and
post partum. She encouraged me in just the right,
loving way. She feels kinda like a second mom.
I expected to feel kind of empty right after the
birth, like I did when Julian was born (in a hospital
and immediately whisked away to the warmer while I was
stitched up), or worse. But I really believe in
bonding now. Being attached to her by the cord for
her first 45 minutes, just sitting with her in my arms
in the tub and gazing at her, not having to give her
up for tests or anything… That is the only way
to do it. If I ever do it again, I won’t do a thing
differently (well, except the castor oil. I’ll
never do that again). If there ever was a perfect
birth, I’d say this was it.
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