Second Home Birth Experience

It's September, 2019. You're four weeks old today with a smile lighting up the world. I find myself in a unique place where the fog seems to have lifted just enough to put “pen to paper" and journal the story of your birth, yet close enough to remember details that will soon be lost in time. I’ve written a stream of consciousness in my paper journal about your birth, but I wondered if I could make it more coherent in this moment through typing so that my fingers can keep up with my thoughts. Here’s to trying!

Where to begin? I felt the transition into your arrival weeks before you arrived, in part due to how low you were stationed and how much my bump had grown. At 37 weeks, we headed out to the 50th Oregon Country Fair with the blessings of my midwives and their trust that I would follow my intuition and listen to my body should I notice any signs of labor. I certainly did not throughout the weekend, though countless people asked in awe, “are you going to have the baby here?! It seems like you are ready to pop!” or other such iterations. I FELT like I was ready to pop, too! I wobbled around Fair with a pulled muscle from dancing too hard at a space-themed wedding (in which you made an appearance as Totality -- an eclipse -- painted on my belly) and my first sciatica pains began. I’d respond to all inquiries with, “He could come in a week, but knowing me and my kiddos, he’ll come at 42.” And sure enough… My intuition was right! Love this reaffirmation of the power of Trust!

I ended my time seeing clients right before leaving for Fair, so arriving home, I found myself in recovery/preparation mode. There were so many “if-only’s” before I really let myself sink into birthing energy (made especially tough being accompanied by a toddler): Once the house is really clean… once I finalize all my billing and send needed referrals… once Anika is potty trained (which she did herself in the weeks leading up to the birth, though has since regressed a bit)… once August is here … the date in my dream (8/13)… sister’s half birthday… But alas, you were on your own schedule and waited till we nudged you with a Full Moon overhead and my best friend, Gabey, here from her adventures to be a part of the birth.

In the days leading up to the birth, I took is as slowly as I could with Anika in tow. We went to the pull to relieve some gravity. I took lots of walks, even a 1.5 hour walk on the Deschutes River Trail must to my surprise. I would take advantage of morning times to be more active, since the evening was when sciatica would spark with your big head movements. I talked a lot to your big sister about your impending arrival, and she would eagerly ask each day, “Is baby brother coming today?” and then break into song with made up words like, “welcome baby brother.” We made you two birthday cakes, decorated beautifully by big sis. She painted you pictures to adorn various doors in the house and put balls under her dress to pretend she was also expecting a baby. We learned a lot about patience together: for me, I was reminded how to be present in all the physical and emotional discomfort, and she was experiencing patience for the first time. It feels almost ironic that she be treading time in the impatience with me, since the last time I’d felt such a way was awaiting HER arrival!

Ryan decided to stop working on the Monday of your birth week. It felt really nice to have the extra support and also lean further into our family-of-four energy. Auntie Gabey arrived on Monday and we spent time cooking, eating out, taking walks, laughing historically at ridiculous “potential” baby names, such as “Leo Rionardo LaPoma” and doing induction pressure point massage. Uncle James also offered his acupuncture skills and we did two induction sessions, and I got membranes swept twice. I would have some Braxton Hicks but nothing consistent or substantial, so I knew not to get my hopes up. It was all feeling very familiar… and I had a sense it would take a bit more of a nudge to get you going, despite your ready position.

So the day before you were born, while on a walk with Gabey, I dunked fully in the cold Deschutes river to coax you out. We also got some black cohosh tea tincture, and I took that in the increments assigned by the midwives. We sent Big Sis to sleep at Lita and Opa’s house, along with Nana, knowing the next day would be breaking waters time. We awoke early on August 15th and I felt more confident and ready than I had in weeks. I think this truly was your wisdom coming through from the womb: you knew to give me some extra time to move through my anxiety, as well as make me SO eager to no longer be pregnant that I knew I’d sing and dance with joy once contractions started. (Gratefully, my pregnancy was really wonderful overall — it simply got super tough by the end with the summer heat and big sister’s big energy combined with my physical limitations.) We had to get yet another ultrasound to ensure that you were looking strong and ready for induction. You passed with flying colors again and we headed to eat a lox bagel before the midwives.

The breaking waters experience, along with the membrane sweeping, were surprisingly empowering. I think that I had felt a little disconnected from my lower half, being that I couldn’t see it and all, and so reaching into the passage from which you would emerge to greet and nudge you along felt like a relief.Two midwives had to try and break my waters, due to my cervix being tucked, and gave me great feedback like, “Wow, you’re tough!” as they did so — my heart echoed, “OK, I guess I AM tough… I can do this!” which helped lower my anxiety for labor. The third attempt at water breaking did not result in a big splash or even much of a trickle, but my midwife did notice a teeny tiny newborn hair on the tip of her finger condom. “Baby’s first haircut?” she asked with a grimace. We were pretty sure she had gotten through — and sure enough, gushes of water came about 1 hour later when a position change had you moving your head from plugging the hole.

My contractions began as the midwife appointment was wrapping up and at 10:30 I was sent home with instructions to take a walk and drink Castor Oil at noon if they were to fizzle. We got home and attempted a walk around the block, Ryan and Gabey holding me by the arms at a very slow pace. The contractions continued and were getting more frequent. Every five minutes at least, and by the end of the walk (which only landed us a couple of blocks) they were every three. We decided to settle in with some mindless comedy and put on Jimmy Fallon and Cher lipsinking to lipsink recordings, but it was quickly interrupted by stronger surges. To my relief, no Castor Oil was needed after all.

We took a final photo with the flowers Ryan got us and put on my “Resilient Birthing Mix”. I grabbed the yoga ball and bounced and sang, feeling delighted that labor had finally begun and we were going to meet you soon. Each contraction was met with Ryan’s warm, loving arms and attuned presence, which I welcomed and enjoyed. It felt so intimate, so true, so us, like he was literally moving the surge through with his touch.

By noon, active labor was upon us. It felt like things were intensifying quickly. We retreated to the bedroom and I had Ryan call the midwives. It was really good timing, because we got the birth tub all set prior to me being in transition. I really needed to be in the tub this time around!

Our bedroom was such a sanctuary, and following filling the birth tub, it grew quiet and still. The midwives, Gabey and Ryan held the most beautiful container for me. I could sense their presence and trust the whole time. They let me be in my zone, Gabey giving me a neck rub and Ryan holding me through each contraction. Their silence was accompanied by my favorite songs. When Somi’s “Ginger Me” came on, I felt her voice reverberate through my being, soothing me like a magical elixir and transporting me out of my pain. It reminded me of Blue Thunder Woman’s “Icaros.” I had mantras repeating in my mind through each contraction, ones I heard and ones that just came up, none that I remember now but all empowering and supportive. It felt good to know I could be a beacon unto myself in these moments.

I waited till I could not take NOT being in the water, and moved there by around 2:30PM (I remember because it was the only time I looked at the clock once labor really began). We put on the mantra mix and transition began. Phew. It was TOUGH!!!! I began getting double peaking contractions that seemed to last forever (though I think it was only about 3-5 minutes) and needed the in-between times to catch my breath. My vocalizations carried me through and I could hear them changing, growing more intense as each surge did. There were moments when they felt soooo intense that I wondered how much more I could take… but then they’d subside and I’d regain my presence. Giving birth the second time around allowed me to trust myself with the pain of the surges more. I’d done that before, I could do it again. The pushing, however, I wasn’t so sure about.

At one point I changed positions to hands and knees, arms propped against the birth tub. My midwife tried to check me with the doppler and it hurt when she pressed. Something wasn’t right. Suddenly, she said, “OK Claire, we need to find a different position. Baby doesn’t like this one.” Your heartbeat had dropped, most likely because of the cord being wrapped twice around your neck. I had to turn back over in the middle of a double-peaking contraction and it was so painful. But I did it and your heart rate improved. It had scared me, though. A lot. I wondered how I was going to manage the pushing that was about to come. She told me, “your job is to relax as much as you can through contractions. Just breathe. His heart rate is fine now.” So I did. I relaxed as hard as I possibly could. Even though I was beginning to feel a lot of pressure, I waited to push. I waited and waited and waited until I couldn’t do anything BUT push. And this worked to my favor, because I honestly wouldn’t have known “how” to push if I’d tried. I needed my body to help do it for me and my thinking brain.

This was by far the most miraculous and intense experience of my life. I felt my body completely take over and just begin pushing. While I pushed, the pain almost subsided and gave way to what felt like the worlds biggest poop (just like my dream). I felt myself open and out came your head! It was all so fast — three contractions in under 4 minutes! The midwives noticed the cord was wrapped and my midwife gently unwrapped it twice between contractions. Then a final push and out you came, though they had to help pull you (at least it felt like it). I have now been brave enough to watch the video but with the sound off. Too intense otherwise, but I guess a good way to answer a few of the questions once I finally get around to it.

All the details were behind me. You were in my arms. You cried and cried and cried. Your dad cried, too, bursting into tears once he saw you. We held you so tightly, and I didn’t even see your face for the first few minutes because I didn’t want to let go enough to turn you around. I was in utter disbelief and just kept repeating,”I can’t believe we did it!!! We did it!!!!”

—By Claire L.