Jemima's Birth Story

 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 3^rd. 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.