I've had a few people wanting to see this for a while, and a blog seemed like the easiest way to share it with them. The more I thought about starting a little family blog, the more I liked the idea of starting it where parenthood started for us. Sometimes I feel like when we had Jemima we truly began living.
Now we are three, and as happy as can be :)
(Note: I gave birth using a hypnosis technique called Hypnobabies. Hence the lingo: 'waves' instead of 'contractions', going "off" indicating dropping deeply into my hypnosis, etc.)
Jemima’s Birth Story
I
woke up suddenly on the morning of January 3rd. I usually don’t wake
up in the middle of the night, and I lay there trying to figure out why I had
awoken. Probably because I needed to pee; that reason seemed to be waking me up
a lot lately! And then I felt it. A sudden surge of pressure around my baby. I
hadn’t had any practice birthing waves, but this was unmistakable. I felt my
adrenaline kick in as my excitement rose rapidly. But I tried to stay calm.
Calm is what I need during birthing time, and calm is what will keep my body
progressing, I told myself. Stay calm. I
grabbed my cell phone off the nightstand so I could start timing waves. I
didn’t want to wake Chase up without a good reason. I noticed that it was about
5:00 in the morning. Another birthing
wave came, just seven or eight minutes after the previous one. The immediate
power of these birthing waves surprised me. I think for some reason I thought
they would be gentle at first. I instinctively began using my light switch. I
went off for each successive wave, and after four or five waves that were
consistently seven or eight minutes apart I felt that it was time to wake Chase
up.
He
took some shaking, but I finally got him awake. It seemed ridiculous that I
couldn’t wake him up; after the last half an hour of consistent waves that
seemed to tell me that this baby was coming today, and possibly soon, how could
he still be sleeping?? I remember that he asked me what was going on, and I
snuggled into him and kissed him and said, “I just thought you might want to
know, we are having a baby today.” He froze. He asked me how I knew and I explained
everything that had been going on. Instantly he morphed into powerful,
protective birth partner mode. He got me water, he got out his timing sheet, he
got me on the birth ball, and started timing those waves! I should have stayed in bed and slept, I had
honestly tried after the first few waves, but they weren’t long enough apart to
allow me to fall asleep. So up we got!
We
sat in the living room in the semi-darkness of the sleepy winter morning and it
all seemed so peaceful. I rocked gently on the ball while Chase sat near me. We
were so excited. Sometimes we talked, and sometimes we just sat in silence, and
always when I had another wave, I would shut off and let my body sink into peaceful
oblivion. I know they say in the beginning you should just go about your normal
day, but since I am not usually doing anything productive at 5:00 in the
morning, it seemed natural to just relax and let it all unfold.
We
stayed this way for a few hours. I couldn’t believe how the time flew by! In
what seemed to me to be about half an hour, it was nearing 8 o’clock, and Chase
called into work to tell them he wasn’t going to make it today. My birthing
waves were staying at a consistent 7-8 minutes apart, and that seemed too close
to let him leave me for three hours. We called Mom and told her what was
happening. She asked how we were, how far apart the waves were, and when we
wanted her to come. I felt wrapped in my own peaceful bubble of birth, and let
Chase talk on the phone. We decided to continue working together by ourselves
for a while longer.
Things
stayed consistent. The birthing waves didn’t get closer together, but they also
didn’t get farther apart. I wanted to stay positive and took this to mean that
we were progressing. And although they
weren’t getting closer together, they were getting stronger. I remember feeling
so calm. So protected and almost distant from reality, from anything but my
body and my baby and the joy of this time. We settled into a pattern of sorts. Every time
a wave would come take me, I would turn off and Chase would murmur cues to me
to help me focus. At one point we turned
on some of my hypnosis CDs, I think it was the Deepening one, that one was
always my favorite. We continued to just quietly soak all of this in, and I
remember starting to feel like I wanted distraction in between my waves. I wish I had followed this instinct and, I
don’t know, turned on a movie or something, but I think I was worried it would
disrupt my focus. So we continued to work as time continued to fly.
Maybe it’s because nothing changed
or nothing of significance happened, but I don’t remember a lot about this
early time. I remember the quiet and
peacefulness, I remember feeling relaxed, I remember how still and white the
world seemed as we saw the sun rise on what we thought would be Jemima’s
birthday. I remember trying to keep my excitement under control so I wouldn’t
wear myself out and so my mind wouldn’t go a million miles an hour. I remember trying to just live solely in the
moment. I didn’t want to think about how
long it had been, or what time it was, I only wanted to concentrate on the
birthing wave I was experiencing right now. I don’t know if there’s ever been
another time in my life when time truly ceased to have meaning for me. The fact that the world was going on in its
everyday activities seemed incomprehensible to me. There we were, Chase and I,
wrapped up in the wonder of what this day could bring.
A few
more hours passed, and things stayed the same. I was starting to feel like I
wanted Mom to come, so we called and updated her on things and asked her if she
could come soon. She said she would
start getting ready, to give her 45 minutes or so, and suggested that I start
walking to try and get things moving. I
also remember that Chase asked her to run to the store and pick up some Oreos.
We had been meaning to get some kind of snack for the nurses but somehow hadn’t
gotten around to it. But that was the
only thing that hadn’t been done. I loved feeling relaxed as I knew that the
bags were packed and the house was clean and I didn’t need to worry about a
thing. I started walking the length of our small apartment, and walked back and
forth and back and forth. For some
reason it didn’t feel like what I wanted to be doing. I really felt like I just wanted to be on the
ball, to relax. But I knew Mom was right
so I kept it up for a bit. I eventually
migrated back to the ball, feeling slightly lazy but trying to trust my
instincts. And they turned out to be right in the end. This birth ended up being so long that I know
if I had walked for hours and hours in the beginning I might not have made it.
Mom
came and the excitement of what was happening spiked again. We chatted for a second, gave her the news
that there was nothing new to tell, and she set to work. I loved her calming
presence. I always love being around my
mom, but there was something different about having her as my doula. She let me set the tone and make my own
decisions, and was always on hand for whatever I needed. She rubbed my feet
with essential oils and we talked between waves. It was such a strange way to
interact. I would be talking to Chase or Mom or they would be talking to me,
and as I would feel the unmistakable signs of another pressure wave, I would
turn to my pillows, drop my finger and leave this world. And when it was over, I would count up, or
one of them would count me back up, and we would resume our conversation like
nothing had happened. Not that anyone
was ignoring what I was experiencing, but what was there to tell? Sometimes I
liked the return to reality, and other times it seemed strange that I would go
off, experience such pressure and focus and change, and come back to everything
around me being unchanged. I think it was then that I realized that although
everyone around me was willing to do whatever I needed or wanted, this would
truly be an internal experience and no one could come inside me and fight this
battle for me. But their encouragement made it possible for me to stay strong.
I loved how calm Mom and Chase
were, and how easily they took cues from me.
Sometimes I would tell them another wave was coming, and sometimes I would
just go off. They would talk to me about my special place, help me deepen my
hypnosis by counting, or help direct my anesthesia. I spent a lot of time
resting on my blissful beach with Jemima. I felt so deep, so focused. The waves
were gentle pressure sensations that were bringing my baby.
Mom suggested walking again and I walked some
more. Time continued to feel like it was
on fast forward. Hours later, I’m not
sure how much later, mom suggested a bath. It sounded heavenly! The only
problem was that our tub wouldn’t run water as hot as I wanted. So, undaunted,
Mom and Chase started heating water on the stove in every pot we owned! We laughed about feeling like pioneers. I
continued to ride the waves while they worked in the kitchen and carried water
back and forth. I remember that Mom made
me a bagel because I was hungry and it was so delicious. Finally they had enough hot water in the tub
for a decent bath. I got in the tub and
Chase came in the bathroom with me. He poured water over my belly and back
almost the entire time, which was probably an hour. He was such a champion. The water felt incredible, but my pressure
waves were getting increasingly stronger, and it began to feel unbearable for
me to lean back against the tub like that.
I was starting to feel my waves strongly in my back, and although
everything was hovering in about the same place time wise, the power of my
waves was starting to overwhelm me and take all of the focus I had. I needed to go off. I had to leave the comfort of the water.
As I began to feel the challenge of
conquering each of these waves, I felt the tone of my birth shift. This was
getting serious. In the back of my mind
I also felt that this must mean we were getting closer, right?
I began experimenting with new
comfort measures. We tried standing, slow
dancing, sitting in my rocker, getting back on the ball, a bit more walking. At
one point I even remembered that my mom had a thick woven scarf called a robozo
and as soon as I remembered that, I wanted them to cradle my belly in it and
pull up to take some of the pressure off my back. I don’t know what made me
think of that, I don’t think I had talked or thought about a robozo in a few
years, but it turned out to be a life saver. I was starting to feel like these waves were
going to cleave me in two. All of my focus and energy was going to trying to
take any amount of pressure off of my back. And always, I would go off for my
waves. Chase and Mom worked tirelessly
beside me, cueing me, lifting my belly with the scarf, doing the double hip
squeeze a thousand times, and endlessly rubbing and giving me counter-pressure.
I still felt like it was easy to go
deep. It felt delicious to be so constantly relaxed. I hovered between off and
keeping my switch in the middle, and always my anesthesia was flowing and
powerful. Even after all my practice, who knew that giving birth could be so
relaxing?
Night fell. Despite the increased pressure, I was still
incredibly calm and although we were all working together, things were fairly
low-key. I decided that I needed some distraction. We busted out the Rummikub, and despite
having to leave the game for pressure waves every 6 or 7 minutes, I won! I do love games. We started to realize we were
starving, and Mom went to get us burgers. Wendy’s sounded delicious, and my
customary kids’ meal was devoured in about four bites. I seriously should have
gotten more food, because everything just tasted so scrumptious during birthing
time!
It must have been about 15 hours since
everything had started, and it still felt like such a short amount of time to
me. I was trying not to focus on how long it had been, but to just accept what
my birth was bringing me.
It got later and later, and I was
in the mood for some fun. We started
looking up funny ecards and memes on Pinterest and Google, and had some good
laughs. I remember that part really well. The lamps were on and it was late and
felt so cozy to laugh together. I
remember feeling like I never wanted the laughter to end. I felt like I was pursuing distraction like a
starving person pursuing food. I wanted to escape and feel carefree again,
probably because I couldn’t deny the seriousness of what was happening, and the
reality that it was about to get even more challenging.
My waves were continuing to
increase in pressure and length. At one point they were even nearing 3 minutes
in length. That felt hard. It felt difficult to keep my focus and remain still
for so long. The waves were still 6-8 minutes apart, and I was beginning to
think that maybe this was just the way I gave birth, and that my waves would
always stay about that far apart.
Around 2 a.m., I started thinking
about going to the hospital. I rolled the idea around in my mind for a while,
trying to gauge why I was thinking about it, and what I was expecting. I finally mentioned it to mom and Chase, and,
of course, they were completely supportive. I hopped in the shower to have my
“this is it” moment, and to relax and feel normal about leaving. I remember
telling myself, “The next time I am in this apartment, we will have Jemima with
us!”
The water felt divine, but my
pressure waves were starting to feel harder to cope with, and I felt like this
experience was starting to spiral out of control. Chase had to come in the
shower and let mom finish packing so I could lean on him during each wave. The pressure was so intense. I don’t even
know how to describe it. It felt like the pain and pressure in my back was
going to snap my spine in half. I started to feel this struggle between the
relaxation that staying still provided, and desperately trying to move and
relieve this pain through some kind of wiggling or position change during each
wave.
They got the cars packed and got
everything out the door while I tried to relax. I felt starving, and I snarfed
down a couple granola bars because I knew they wouldn’t let me eat at the
hospital. We left. It felt cold, and at the same time I felt impervious to the
cold; I was so wrapped up in this internal war being waged between my back and
front. Mostly it just bothered me
because it made my body tense up, and I was putting everything I had into
trying to relax.
The car ride was uncomfortable. I
had always heard that, but you just can’t understand how uncomfortable it is
until you experience it. When we got to the hospital, it felt like we had to
wait in the lobby FOREVER for someone to come get us. I thought we had taken
care of this whole registering/checking in thing beforehand! Pressure waves continued to beat at me, and
with each one Chase would bend at the waist and I would try and relax and go
off while I leaned on his back. I was
vaguely aware of the lady at the desk watching me, but I couldn’t really worry
about anyone else at the moment. Finally a nurse arrived with a wheelchair and
told me I could ride or walk, but it didn’t really seem like a choice; I had
felt like I could barely walk into
the hospital, let alone all the way through
it up to the labor and delivery floor.
The wheelchair ride up is so clear
in my memory. I don’t know why, but I can still feel the wheels moving under
me, and see the silent hospital corridors, and feel how uncomfortable it felt
to have pressure waves the whole time. Finally she said, “Oh, if you need to
stop, just let me know!” I asked her to stop almost immediately and writhed in
that horrible wheelchair. I couldn’t get out of it, and I couldn’t get
comfortable in it. Chase and mom were always there with each wave to cue me,
help me, and physically support me.
Finally we made it. They took us to
a room and gave me a gown and hooked me up to the monitor. It really is the
stupidest thing in the whole world. I had to recline in the hospital bed and
nothing could have been worse for the pressure in my back. I had to stay hooked
up for 20 minutes, and for the first time since it had all started, I watched
the clock. The nurse asked a million stupid and completely unimportant
questions, and now I question the intelligence of those who set up hospital
protocols. Idiots. Finally she finished her pointless interrogation and checked
my dilation. It was so uncomfortable. I tried to relax, I tried to go to my
special place, but it felt like she had jammed a log up inside me and was
digging around. As always, Chase and mom were there, helping me breathe, helping
me relax. I couldn’t have done it without them.
Finally she came out and said,
(like she wasn’t delivering earth-shattering news) “Well, you are dilated to a
2. She is still really far up there. So we’re going to send you home! Come back
when your contractions are more like 4 minutes apart, ok hon?”
This was my lowest moment. I had
been battling with these waves for almost 24 hours, and, for the last 6 or 7
hours especially, they had been stronger and harder than anything I had ever
felt before. If I had only progressed 1
centimeter in 24 hours, how long was this going to take?? Despite my best
efforts, panic started to claw up my throat until I thought I would choke. After the nurse left and mom and Chase helped
me redress, we were quiet. I think that they didn’t know what to say to me, and
I certainly didn’t know what to say to them. I tried to act cheerful, and
pretend that nothing had happened. I couldn’t lose it here. I would wait until
we got home before the floodgates broke. I had to hold it together. Somehow we
made it out of there, and between endless pressure waves, I felt so foolish.
“They must think I don’t know how this works. They must think I’m in idiot.
Don’t they know that we wouldn’t have come unless we thought we were somewhere
near the end???”
I don’t remember leaving the
hospital or the ride home. I just remember walking into the apartment, and
feeling bitter at the irony that after prepping myself to go and give birth, we
were back sooner than we thought and I didn’t have Jemima with me after all.
They dropped everything in the living room and we all looked at each other. And
then I lost it.
I don’t remember what I said, but I
remember how I felt. I felt so hopeless. I felt like my body had betrayed me. I
felt so confused. I felt exhausted. And mostly, I felt like I didn’t know how
much longer I could keep this up. I cried. Now each successive pressure wave
seemed to taunt me with its uselessness. What was the point?? They weren’t
bringing my baby to me! I was hitting a brick wall of exhaustion and my focus
was slipping.
Thank heaven for mom. Chase
comforted me, and held me, and helped me through the waves as we talked, but
mom helped me find some perspective. She
acknowledged that that had been hard to hear, but she also acknowledged that I
had come so far and done so much, and I could finish this. She said that my
instincts are always good, and that going to the hospital had not been a waste
of time. She said that she had been worried about Jemima being ok with such
long and strong pressure waves, and now we knew for certain that she was
handling everything fine. Then she said
that maybe this time was a gift, and that I should try to rest before the
sprint to the finish, since I would surely need it.
Rest. It sounded so tantalizing,
but then there was another part of me that wanted everything to just pick up so
this could be over. But since I couldn’t control how soon Jemima decided to
join us, rest seemed like the next best thing.
Mom said that there are some moms who can tell their bodies that it is
time to rest and their birth will slow down and allow them time to rest.
I am not one of those moms.
I told my body to rest, to let me
rest, to give everyone a break. I went and laid down in bed, while Chase went
to go get some sleep on the couch. Mom stayed with me. I was so tired. Mom
turned on one of my hypnosis CDs and it played while I tried to rest. I
remember this part of it because it was such a haze of pain. I was so exhausted
that I fell asleep between each wave, and was then rudely awoken by a pressure
wave 4 or 5 minutes later. This period
of time seemed harder than anything previously because while I was sleeping
during the breaks, I was never prepared for the next wave. I was awoken a
hundred times by sudden pain and pressure and because I was in a stupor of
exhaustion, I was struggling to cope and tap into my hypnosis training. I
remember this as the point that I started to make moaning noises with each
wave. The line between my switch being off and in center started to become
fuzzy. I felt off, but I was tossing and turning and making noise now. Mom was
a rock. She stayed awake and tried to help me focus during each pressure wave,
while allowing me to sleep in between. After a while, I don’t know how long,
she and Chase traded places and she went to get some rest. Chase was so sweet;
staying with me and cueing me, and trying to help even though I know he was
tired too.
The next thing I remember is that I
was on the ball in my bedroom, the sun was starting to come up, and mom came
in. I couldn’t really focus on what she was saying, she just talked to me while
I experienced wave after wave and I tried to concentrate on the meaning of her
words. She said that she thought we should call the midwives. They needed to
know what was going on, and we needed to start making some decisions and taking
action, because mom could tell that I couldn’t keep this up much longer. I’ve
never agreed with anyone more in my life. Mom even said that as much as she
believed in me and knew I could do this, we might want to start considering an
epidural, because if I couldn’t find the strength to push her out, this was
going to end in a C-section. I didn’t know what to think. An epidural still
didn’t feel like an option I would even consider, but her words sparked
something inside me, and I think made all the difference in my body picking up
the pace. It was crunch time. I had to finish this soon, or finishing would
cease to be an option for me.
Mom called and talked to one of
them, Helene I think, and set up an appointment for us to come in as soon as
there was someone in the office. Some
time passed, and then we started getting ready to leave again. I am telling
you, I don’t ever want to have to travel this much during a birth ever
again! I was starving and crammed some
more granola bars in my mouth as we left. We arrived at the midwives’ office,
and I could barely walk. Every step felt like it was going to cause my body, already
taut with pressure and pain, to explode. We stood in the foyer for a few
minutes, me leaning on Chase’s back while he bent over, riding the endless
waves. He was my champion. He bore my weight again and again for hours and
hours, and never complained, even though at one point I could feel him shaking
with the exertion. And this time was no different. He, without protest or
complaint, bent double and let me grip him in a death grip and put all my
weight on him. The secretary asked me if I would be able to give a urine
sample. I remember just staring at her. I think for a minute I thought she was
joking. A urine sample – NOW?!?!? Finally I found my voice, and tried to be
polite although I don’t know if I could completely mask my shock that she would
even ask, and told her I had just gone to the bathroom, sorry.
Pretty quickly they put us in an
exam room where we waited for a few minutes. I’ll just say that no one was ever
meant to have pressure waves on those tiny exam tables. Helene finally came in
and I didn’t know what to say. I had realized by now that although I was
experiencing so many sensations and emotions and struggles and battles and
body-wracking waves on the inside, what I was presenting to everyone around me
was completely different to what I was thinking and feeling on the inside. It
was the altered level of consciousness. I felt like all of my emotions and
expressions and senses were heightened, but for some reason communication felt
impossible. It was all I could do to survive on the outside. I couldn’t tell
anyone what I was thinking or feeling because I didn’t know how. I know now because
of what Chase and mom told me is that what I presented to the outside world was
a calm, deeply focused visage, despite everything going on inside of me. What a
strange mental experience.
Helene asked some questions, mom
presented her concerns about exhaustion, and then Helene checked me. She came
out and said I was dilated to a 6. We all breathed a sigh of relief. I thought
I might cry. Things were moving. Then I remember her looking at me and saying,
“Well, are your ready to go have this baby?” I don’t even know if I answered,
but she seemed like the bearer of glad tidings, and I remember feeling
emotional and so grateful that someone was telling me that there was an end in
sight. She left and came back with some paperwork she had filled out for an
epidural, not that I needed to get one, she assured me, but this would make the
process faster if I decided I needed one. Then we left.
We decided to try and make this
second exodus to the hospital faster. I stayed in the car while mom and Chase
ran upstairs and grabbed everything as fast as they could. We set off again.
This car ride was even more uncomfortable than the first one. Chase thought it
would be a good idea to take the back roads, but it turns out they just had
more bumpy, icy ruts. I told him to stop at a 4-way stop and not to move until
I told him to. I don’t know how many cars waited and waited for us, and thought
Chase didn’t know how to work a 4-way, but it was agony for the car to be moving
during a birthing wave.
We finally made it, and thankfully
got upstairs much faster this time. Everything seemed hazy and my memories of
arriving have blurry edges. I was so focused on the ceaseless powerful waves,
and had come to a place where I couldn’t spare a thought for anything but what
I was experiencing in my body. I had to be strapped to the monitor for 20
minutes again, but I don’t remember much about the second time. As soon as I
could be unhooked we went to the Jacuzzi room. Chase put his trunks on and got
in with me to help support me. Sometime around this time Lindsay arrived and
came to be with us. The tub was nice, and the jets felt incredible. Until I had
a pressure wave. Then the jets felt like
knives in my back that were stabbing me where it already hurt most. I remember gasping and ordering someone, anyone to turn off the jets! They were
killing me! We started to work out a
system in the tub: jets on, but off for a wave, and, as always, Chase
supporting me. At some point Lindsay put my hair up which I was so grateful
for. I don’t know how long I was in the tub, it didn’t feel long, but it
started to be unbearable to be sitting/reclining like that. I desperately tried
to find a way, any way that I could be comfortable in the water, but I
couldn’t. At one point I even made Chase get in a push up position in the water
so I could float on my stomach and hold onto him. He shook and shook, but he
held me up and never complained. I think it was shortly after that that I
realized I couldn’t stay in the tub much longer. Helene brought us towels,
which is a good thing because I had lost all inhibitions and was ready to walk
down the hall naked. It didn’t even matter anymore! Someone put a towel around
me and Lindsay helped me back to my room while Chase stayed behind to take off
his trunks.
We got back to the room and I got
on the ball. I didn’t put any clothes on; it was crunch time. The inward battle
raged, and just as I had realized in the beginning, no one could fight this one
for me. I remember this part vividly and at the same time distantly. I remember
the lighting in the room and how there seemed to be a flurry of activity going
on around me. Nurses coming in and out, Mom and Chase arranging our things and
cueing me, Lindsay rubbing my back, maybe there was a hypnosis CD playing?…it’s
like I can still sense how it felt, but I can’t actually pinpoint anything
specific that was going on. Except for that horrible, demonic nurse who kept
jabbing me to check Jemima’s heart rate. I didn’t even know what she was doing,
all I knew was that I might strangle her if she did it one more time. How about
you jab a hard, uncomfortable wand thingy into the huge muscle called my uterus
that is, at this very moment, about to snap me like a twig? Could you? Thanks
so much.
The next few hours were unreal. I
was past hitting the brick wall of exhaustion; I was dead on the ground and
being hit repeatedly WITH the brick wall. It had been over 30 hours in which I
had had waves consistently 4-8 minutes apart, and hadn’t slept longer than 7
minutes at any point. I was past the point of needing sleep, I felt like I was
blacking out between waves. It took 2-3 people to help move me anywhere. I
started doing the horrible shaking. I had been warned about it, but nothing
could have prepared me for my body’s reaction to such high levels of hormones.
It was like shivering uncontrollably for minutes at a time, but ten times
stronger. So weird.
While on the ball, I suddenly felt
a huge, involuntary contraction around my middle. It made me make a strange,
deep noise in the back of my throat, and Mom asked if I was feeling “pushy”. I
said no, I think I need to throw up! Turns out I was wrong and she was right.
Whenever I had thought of the pushing phase of birth, I thought it would feel
like the urge to push a poop out. Lots of pressure in a pretty low place,
right? Wrong. It felt like the involuntary, transverse abdominis clench right
before you puke. When it would come it would make me grunt and double over and
try to figure out how to work with it.
Helene suggested I move to the
toilet to start pushing.
I did not love that.
Haha, it is not a very comfortable
place to sit, that’s for sure! Chase stood in front of me for a long time while
I buried my head in his stomach and had him in a death grip around his middle.
I pushed. And pushed. And pushed. But I was so tired and weak that it was hard
to make any headway. I couldn’t make each push super effective, I was still
falling asleep and blacking out at times. But boy, I was trying. Helene and Mom
were patient and sweet and offered suggestions, and always, we were calm. As I
pushed I could feel the sensation that something was coming out of me. But it
didn’t feel normal. What is going on? I thought. Helene looked, and I was
pushing out my amniotic sac! After all of this time it still hadn’t broken, and
was so strong it was being pushed out rather than break. I can admire tenacity,
but this seemed a little ridiculous and for some reason it felt like if it
would break things would move faster. Not great logic, but I doubt I was making
many decisions based on logic at that point. So I told Helene to break that
thing. She did, with difficulty, saying it was a super strong sac (yay? Haha),
and nothing happened. Haha, what was I expecting? I still have no idea.
I was done being on the toilet. We
moved to the bed and they got me on the bed. I gripped the back of the bed that
they had raised, and tried to push. I just couldn’t be effective. I was so tired
my legs couldn’t hold me and I couldn’t summon the strength to push really
hard. I don’t know where anyone was at this point except Mom. She was at my
head, telling me time and time and time again, to push HARD, to bear down HARD.
With each push she coached and encouraged me again. She was so patient with me;
I’m sure it seemed like I wasn’t listening or something, I was, I just couldn’t
do it! I couldn’t take that position anymore, so I got down next to the bed. They
kept telling me to get on the bed and use the bar, but for some reason I
remember distinctly thinking, “I don’t want to do that, I don’t want to do
that, why can’t they hear me? Why can’t I talk?” And I couldn’t. I was so
wrapped up in this overpowering, overwhelming experience that I couldn’t even
communicate to anyone anymore. They kept tugging at me and I just kept tugging
away until they left me there next to the bed.
So there I stood, on my own two feet,
caught between the exhaustion of what had happened, and the exhaustion that
pushing would bring. A limbo, a teetering point – my last decision. But the
funny part was, I had made the decision days, weeks, months ago. I had chosen
this path, and I wouldn’t give up now. The power of why I had chosen to give
birth this way carried me to the end. I grabbed Mom’s hands while she stood
across the bed from me, and I bent over and pushed. It took a while, but it
started working. I could feel my own power, and I even remember thinking that I
might break something in Mom’s hands. They felt tiny and fragile in my crushing
grip. The pain moved from being all over my lower body into my birth canal. I
heard myself making sounds I have never heard before. This kind of pain in such
sensitive areas is impossible to describe. I also distinctly remember that I
was bracing myself with my knee against something sharp on the side of the bed.
I registered the pain clearly, but couldn’t move. Haha, I found a huge bruise
there later.
I made headway. Jemima moved down.
She began crowning. Pain beyond pain kept coming. I remember trying to stop
pushing so that it would stop! I just stood there for a bit, hating this pain,
knowing worse pain was coming, but knowing that after it came it would end. It
took everything in me to decide within myself to keep pushing. I know that
sounds silly, it’s not like I had a choice at this point, but choosing to step
into the fire instead of fighting it or trying to run away made all the
difference to me.
Helene told me to reach down and
feel her head, but I couldn’t. I had to finish this. I pushed and pushed, and
her head finally came out. Relief came. One last push, they said, one more. And
so I pushed, and Jemima was born.
Time stopped. Everything was
silent. I was bent over the bed, head in my hands, and began to cry. It was
over. I had done it. I had a moment to be still, to pause, to recover, and then
I saw her.
Helene had caught Jemima in between
my legs, looked at her for a second, made sure she started to cry, and then handed
her up through my legs and set her on the bed in front of me. I stood there
shaking and sobbing and looking at this beautiful person. We stared at each
other and both cried. I took ahold of my baby, and stepped into motherhood in
power and joy. I was too weak to lift her myself, but everyone helped me hold
her and climb into bed. I just held her and cried. She was so perfect, so tiny.
Peace and joy flooded my being as the tears fell. It was healing and spiritual
and life changing and perfect. The high that comes with giving birth is truly
God-given. I knew all that I had given for Jemima had created a bond that could
never be broken. I had found the power within myself to stand on my own two
feet after 35 hours of labor and do the hardest thing I’d ever done, and to do
it willingly, for her. In this heavenly moment of clarity I realized that my
sacrifice had sanctified our union as mother and child. I found a depth to my
being I hadn’t known before, a willingness to give anything and everything of
myself that I hadn’t been aware of. As I gazed in awe I glimpsed what God would
have me be, and it was a beautiful sight.
I looked at her and found myself.