Dreams Do
Come True – a birth story …
My son Damian Joseph is now over a
month old. He’s a bundle of innocent
cuteness and keeping my hands quite full, which is why I’m only now getting to
reflect upon his birth.
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| Damian Joseph Martin |
Damian’s birth was everything I
had hoped for and I almost didn’t believe it had really happened that way –
even as it was, in fact, happening. To
share the experience with you, please indulge me as I give you a little
backstory. (This is longer than my normal posts, but believe me, it will be worth
it.) This is my experience of
womanhood …
It was probably my mother’s
example that nudged me towards desiring a natural birth. She birthed seven children and six of them
without an epidural. She survived, and
talked about it not with disdain nor anxiety but a sense of confidence, a pride
in her mothering. Yet, she didn’t boast;
it was almost just a matter of fact contentment. I admired that naturalness, that trust in our
own womanhood to just go with it.
It really was never a question for
me when the time came for the birth of my first. I longed to give birth as all women have done
for ages and ages – without intervention, without fuss, letting nature take
over and letting my body do what it was made to do. This was my hope, my dream.
The problem arose when my little
body didn’t seem to be kicking in to do what it was supposed to. My first was 11 days overdue and that was my
doctor’s limit. I went in, they prepped
the cervix, and then my body finally kicked in and took over. I labored and gave birth without any pain
medication, but from start of the very tiniest contraction to finish I was at
the hospital. Afterwards, I thought that
was a stupid idea, that I was crazy and I didn’t get what the big deal was to
go “all natural.” Then I held my Gregory
and forgot the rest.
With each child after that the 2nd,
3rd, and 4th, my body needed a nudge to kick into gear
and then it would finally take over and I’d labor and birth without any pain
medication, but again – in the hospital from beginning to end. And despite how I swore I’d never go through
natural labor again when I was in the throws of it, I always did. I
just couldn’t not do it. I can’t
explain it, but it was like something within – compelling me to try again. It was with my 4th birth that I
caught a glimpse of what could be possible with a natural labor. I had a great nurse who, when she was in the
room with me, was able to turn an intense contraction into a moment of peace. Also, right after Emmanuel was born, they
placed him in my arms and let me hold him for what felt like an eternity before
they took him to clean him off and weigh him (it was over an hour). Right away, my heart melted into him and
bonded deeper and more profoundly than with the other babies because I was
given that extended time.
It was then that I thought there
must be more to this natural birth thing than I am getting out of it. Up until now, I was “just muscling through” the
labor. Sure I had accomplished
medication free labor and birth, but it wasn’t ever a beautiful
experience. I then went out and bought
more books on natural childbirth and how to exercise just to get in shape for
labor and birth. (I know, I know! You would think
after four kiddos that I would have had all these books already, but I
didn’t. And the funny thing was, I
wasn’t even pregnant when I bought them. I was just so curious about what other
women had gotten out of natural childbirth that I might have missed.)
The more I read, the more I prayed
for at least one more chance – at some point – to give this natural childbirth
thing another go. These women expressed
such joy and senses of gratitude for their labor and birth experiences. (My
only thought after my births was “thank God that’s over!”) God had answered our prayer for another child
and I was pregnant with Damian. What
also gave me hope that my body might work more efficiently this time around was
my eating. I did some detoxing juicing
and switched my eating habits to a plant based diet and after 6 months of this,
my menstrual cycle changed from a sporadic, irregular pattern to exactly 28
days every month. Getting pregnant after
that, I had hope that maybe – just maybe!
– that was a sign that my body will go into labor on its own.
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| All five of our handsome boys. Damian has four adoring big brothers! |
So, that was my dream. I wanted to go into labor on my own at home,
do most of my laboring in my home and then go into the hospital when it was
getting intense. (You know, like normal women do.)
I had so many preterm contractions and false labor though, that even
when the day arrived (that turned out to
be the real thing), I was doubting every minute of it. Yet, looking back, it was the loveliest
thing.
I had a few hours of contractions
the night before, but then they went away and I had a great night’s sleep. I woke up to my sweet husband kissing my
forehead and letting me know he was heading off to work soon. I got up, got dressed and got a little
coffee. The boys were scampering about
already – playing, singing, running – and I was about to make their breakfast
when the first hard contractions started.
I sat down and breathed, thinking “here we go again with the
phonies!” That went on for a couple
hours and then I had some bloody show.
That was the first thing that made me doubt my doubts. ;-) (Plus I
had an amazing group of online friends who blog at The Guiding Star Project giving me
great advice and support!)
They paused a little during late
morning, but picked up again around 11 am.
I alerted Pete and the gals I had lined up to babysit just in case. I made my darlings lunch and they were eating
when I told the sitter and Pete “I think it’s time.” By the time the sitter arrived and Pete got
home and changed, it was about 2:30ish.
We headed to the hospital and I called my friend, Summer. This was another piece of the puzzle for me
in order to set it all up to allow the best experience possible. Like I said, I had a great nurse with
Emmanuel’s labor, but then her shift ended and off she went before he was even
born! I know it was just her job but it
was startling to me at the time because I was relying on her. With Summer there, I knew I’d have womanly
help through out.
We arrived and I’ll spare you all
the details, but suffice it to say the nurse who checked me wasn’t impressed
with my progress. (My doubts to the “realness” of all this began to creep up again.) When my OB practitioner, I’ll call her S,
came in she gave me the run down of possibilities. The baby’s heart rate wasn’t coming in very
clearly so we would need to allow them to get another half hour of recorded
monitoring to make sure he’s okay. Also,
if the baby’s head was as high as the nurse thought, S wouldn’t want to break
the bag of water. If he was more engaged
and/or if I was more dilated, she would be okay with breaking the water, but
that would mean I’d have to stay. And
she felt inclined to tell me that if we broke the water and the contractions
slowed down, then we were stuck and would have to use Pitocin. (Well,
that wasn’t what I wanted AT ALL!)
Regardless, S thought I should just go ahead, get checked in officially
and set up in a room. Then I could spend
some time walking the halls, letting the contractions build and see where we
were at after the next shift change at 7:30 p.m. (It
also allowed them to get the monitoring of the baby they needed and get some
antibiotics in me, which they wanted to do because I had tested positive for
group B strep.)
Summer and Pete were keeping me
entertained through the contractions. I
sat on the exercise ball for a while and then tried different positions (like standing with one foot up on the bed
and rocking into that bent leg during a contraction). Summer timed them and kept telling me when
they ought to be almost over. Pete was
my rock as always and Summer was my cheerleader. The two of them together made a fantastic
team and were wonderful advocates for me – communicating to the staff exactly
what I needed.
Peter and I decided that if at 8
p.m. when S checked I was still at 3cm, then we’d go home. I wouldn’t want to break the waters if my
body wasn’t already in the motion. I
didn’t want to force God’s hand, and prayed that He would make the choice
clear. So, somehow then, I think I
convinced myself I’d be going home. I
imagined my soft, comfy bed and the peacefulness of our home. When she checked and said I was 5cm, she even
asked if I wanted her to break the bag right then, and I said “no! just leave
it!” I was still thinking (obviously not clearly!) that I could
still go home. I looked at Pete and he
said, “5cm is good.”
I said, “So we should probably
stay?”
Summer piped in, “Wait? You still think you have a chance of going
home?!” She laughed. And S overheard at that point and commented,
“Girl, you aren’t going
anywhere! You are having this baby
today! I bet he comes by midnight.”
“oh, okay,” I said. Ha! I remember being disappointed. Here I had been waiting and waiting for this day, but because of the doubt of the nurse that I was not “far enough along” and that it was “probably false labor,” I had talked myself out of believing it. I didn’t want to be disappointed if it wasn’t real labor so I convinced myself it wasn’t. I guess I did too good of a job, because I was then disappointed when they said it was! How silly I am!
“oh, okay,” I said. Ha! I remember being disappointed. Here I had been waiting and waiting for this day, but because of the doubt of the nurse that I was not “far enough along” and that it was “probably false labor,” I had talked myself out of believing it. I didn’t want to be disappointed if it wasn’t real labor so I convinced myself it wasn’t. I guess I did too good of a job, because I was then disappointed when they said it was! How silly I am!
I seriously had to do some
mind-adjusting. Honestly, part of the dilemma
was also a hesitation to embrace the labor.
Up to that point, we weren’t sure if this was the real thing. So when Summer (who was also pregnant and due a few months after me) would say,
“I wish I was in your place
already!” I’d respond with, “No you
don’t! We all wish it and then it comes
and this hurts!” Of course she just
smiled saying,
“You are doing so
wonderfully! I hope I am as brave as
you!”
Believe me, I felt nothing close
to brave, but at that point I didn’t yet have to commit to it. Now, S said I’m 5cm and not going home. This was finally it. This was what I was waiting for and now was
the time to embrace it. S saw me
struggling mentally (she is so fantastic
at reading my face!) and suggested I spend some time laboring in the
whirlpool tub. Now I could definitely get behind that! I had never labored in the tub before.
I spent two hours in the tub
without even realizing how much time went by.
Summer was telling me stories about (well
I can’t remember what!), but she kept making me laugh. The contractions barely hurt in the tub that
I wondered if this was slowing down the labor.
On the other hand, I was enjoying the break from intense pain, so I didn’t
mind so much. Summer warned that she had
labored in a tub before and was so relaxed that when she got out labor sped up
a ton and got super intense. Can anyone
actually look forward to that? I tried not to think about it too much and
just enjoy the water. After a while,
though, even that got boring because I was stuck in just one place and couldn’t
move around.
I got out around 10:30 p.m. and
sure enough, labor picked up a great deal of speed! Pete gave me back pressure and Summer talked
me through. It was more intense than
I’ve had before because there were no breaks between the contractions – one
after the next after the next after the next after the next after the next after the next after the next …
I tried moving, different
positions – rocking through them with Pete’s pressure help seemed to be the
easiest way to ride the waves of contraction.
Then the chills came. (Pete later told me that he knew I was
entering transition because I always start shivering. I was like, “I do???” Of course he’d have a clearer mind to
remember how the labor goes – I just try to forget! ;-) Shaking all over, they covered me with warmed
blankets. As intense as this all was, my
attitude was restful and enduring. I
usually start doubting and worrying in my mind (I never have the strength to voice it), but I felt completely cared
for.
When the most intense contractions
came, about 11:30ish, I sat on the side of the bed, leaning my head into
Summer’s shoulder and Pete kept pressure on my back. It was the only way I could get through and
it worked perfectly. I couldn’t have
gotten through it so beautifully without the two of them!
Then came the pushing
contractions, but wait! S was not back yet.
Usually, nurses are in a bustle at this point shouting orders to me,
“sit up!” “Knees back!” “We have you!” But they said nothing except,
“Hang on, S isn’t here yet!”
“But I have to push! I’m telling you these are pushing
contractions! You’ve got to get S here
now.”
“She’s on her way.”
“But I need to push!” – – – –
silence – – – –
I expected them to rush to action,
but they just stood there telling me S wasn’t here yet. I kept looking at them, waiting to hear them
tell me to push, but they didn’t.
Exacerbated, I said, “look, I really need push!” Finally one nurse said,
“Well, just let your body do what
it needs to.”
What was that supposed to mean?! I
thought. And then I was like, ‘well
forget them!’ I started barking the
orders “Pete prop me up! Use those
pillows!” “Summer, get over there – yes
– okay, help me like that…”
Then with the next contraction, I
thought he was crowning because I could feel the pressure of him descending,
but no one said anything. (I didn’t know why they were so quiet and not
on him; I really thought his head was almost out!) Then S walked in and said right away, “okay,
with the next contraction, give us a big push!” (“phew! Finally! I thought”)
So with the next contraction I did
just that. I pushed with all my might
and vigor! Remembering my karate
training, I focused all my energy to that one movement. And that baby popped right out! (At the
time, I thought everything was normal.
My body had pushed his head out itself and then I helped and pushed the
rest of him out. Only the next day (!) did I learn what really
happened. And I learned because the
nurses were all buzzing that morning, “we heard what an amazing one push wonder
your baby was!” “that’s a birth we’ll be
talking about for months!” So then I
asked Pete what was so different? His
eyes got really big, “you didn’t know?!”
And so he filled me in …)
What I had felt was my body moving
Damian down into position, but his head had not actually crowned yet. All they saw was the bag of waters (which was still in tact) bulging out a
little. When S finally gave the go ahead
and I pushed, all of a sudden, the bag burst, water sloshed out everywhere and
out came the entire baby! All in one
moment, bam! Peter said it
seemed like the baby just shot right out!
He landed on the bed, and the nurse said she had her hand on him;
however, S later shared she was really happy I was back far enough for him to
just land right there on the bed because no one expected him to come out so
fast. With the water bursting right at
the moment of birth and the baby coming out entirely all at once, apparently it
was pretty uncommon and even more amazing.
Indeed, it was “a birth to remember.” Damian Joseph was 12:04 a.m. on June 5th, his exact due date!
Immediately they placed Damian in
my arms and I just held him and stared at his amazing face. It never seems as real when you are pregnant,
but wow – there he is! Perfect in every
way and just waiting for me to love him!
All through this pregnancy I was like why do we do this? Why do women have kids, this is so difficult
to go through? But right at that moment
I knew – this was it, this was
why. Because his life is so beautiful,
precious, amazing. At that moment, I
could have agreed to have a dozen more just like him, I loved him so!
And I have been smitten ever
since. I have never been so blessed to
remember a labor before. This one really
was an answer to prayers. I started the
labor at home and my body didn’t need any help at all! I had two wonderful people to assist me and a
doctor who didn’t break the water because she could but wanted to give me the
labor and birth that I desired. I never
had to fight her or try to convince her; she supported whatever I wanted from
day one. Those last two hours were
probably the most difficult I ever experienced (pain scale and the lack of
break in between), but easiest in that it was fast and I had the best support I
could ask for.
I definitely would have been an
emotional wreck without my husband, my rock, my love. Together we brought another beautiful boy
into this world! Babies are beautiful no
matter how they come (whether C-section,
with epidural, forceps – whatever!), but it was my dream to have a
completely natural birth that I didn’t just grit my way through but actually embraced. I now know why women want to birth
naturally. Even though I “got through”
my other labors, I never had the full support I needed to really get the most
out of it. After the other births, I
always said “I’m insane, why does anyone ever do this?!” But not this one. It was different; it was beautiful, painful,
but deeply powerful. Some prayers do get
answered just how we’d like them too; some dreams really do come true. ;-)
I now have a wonderful birth
experience that I can remember with joy!
Indeed, this was “a birth to remember”!
(Thanks for letting me share it
with you!)
(All professional photos by www.hwportraits.com - she's amazing!)
your friendly new feminist,
Theresa
Get the book! Woman How Great Thou Art! Order on amazon today! (If it does say out of stock, order anyway, they are getting more in soon! They operate on a supply demand; so the more people who order, the more they will keep in stock! THANK YOU! many blessings to you!)
Well, that’s my view of it and I welcome yours! (Please comment below! And please use initials or first name or even pseudonym instead of simply “anonymous” so we can have some way to distinguish each person in the discussion. Thank You!)
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