I heard her scream. The woman laboring next door was an echo of myself 3 years ago, real, and
somewhat loud. My performance less than 24 hours ago played fast again, just
like last time... Her scream reminded me of the place I didn’t want to remember,
my hospital bed almost 3 years ago... I wrote it down, if I
wanted to revisit it at all, my torture chamber experience...
Before her sound entered the sunset, the evening matured beautifully
as the nurse prepared my first bath. I glanced over. The window framed a
perfect clear sky. I sat moving ever so slowly to the edge of my bed, trying to
recall what that first time was like, of an unprepared natural childbirth.
Unsuccessfully my mind seemed cloudy. Soon there would be phone calls. Explanations
of “how it all went.” I was quite exhausted. But mostly I was hesitant about the real phone calls, from the ravenously
curious or from the moderately amused. I attempted a stick-your-neck-out-there kind
of birthing-hypnobirthing. And if it worked, those who’ve experienced the pain of childbirth
would be surprised to know it was all in our heads and that the silly little thing
we loathe, labor and delivery, is no more than an uncomfortable walk in the
park. It held great promise. We just needed to find out if it was true. I was
just as curious.
But today, now, I wanted to remember that Anne's tornado of
labor and delivery. Every part of it. Like a picture to hold up in front of my
eyes to see again what hell felt
like. I had to…I let out a sigh.
There wasn’t much more I could do. The settling dust of yesterday’s events left
my mind weak and blurred. I couldn’t force the memory to come even when I
willed it. Why can’t I put it into words…?
I thought to myself as I settled into my hot, lavender smelling bath. I’ve got to make logical sense of yesterday
too. What does that canvas look like?
I needed to know...before I could explain it to anybody else.
The difference.
The woman screamed again which made the walls of propriety
carelessly thin. Confrontation was upon her. Unexpectedly she awakened my
sleeping memory of Anne's birth, shattering the peace of relaxing music, transforming it into
my own screams and converting my hot bath into the burning of the moment. I saw
myself lying down, head dancing back and forth trying to slow the wave of each surge
as it rose and fell against my will. I watched myself frantically grabbing for a
resemblance of control. I saw fear in my eyes. I felt myself clutching my husband’s
hand. No, no, NO!!! I felt it all
again through her screams, the feelings of helplessness…
And pain…
Uncertainty…
Agony.
But mostly…helplessness.
The nurse moving back into my room established my presence. With
rushing speed I returned to what was real. Sleeping baby only a few feet away,
caring nurse. I took a deep breath in and laid back. Yes…yes. I found it. I could see them both. Anne and Claira's births,
as displayed works of art, side by side.
The peace of a new healthy baby within arm’s reach held
electrifying calm to my soul. I looked over to the crib with the realization that
each birth made sense according to context. And the fact that my time was
finished, made me say a silent prayer for the woman that soon too-her
experience, unlike mine this time, would be over.
* * *
I rolled over in bed. More like a planned move from one
continent to another, carefully shifting contents with precision and efficiency
in order to fall back asleep as soon as possible. It was 4:30 a.m. It was only
minutes afterward checking my phone that I knew sleep wasn’t coming. I lay on
my left side turning the gears of my mind over things I needed, or simply wanted to
think about, since there was time, uninterrupted by the needs or wants of
others. Three little girls asleep in the room next to me and one man directly
behind me.
Yesterday was busy. I made a plan to get so much done, and though I was sort of a grumpy mother doing it, at least it was done and over with. I was like a video game that had to complete certain tasks before making it to the final level. I was amazed and thankful at how much got finished, even with unlocking secret levels, that I felt prepared for not worrying about a “to do” list after the baby came for a while. The due date was actually tomorrow, yet honestly, I was giving myself another week…During the busyness of the previous day, contractions were coming and going, but so what? I didn’t pay attention because I’d have to stop working. If my breathing changes on its own, I’ll know something’s getting serious. Nothing did.
I turned on my phone again. 5:02. Might as well time these contractions. I had nothing else to do.
The blah, blah, blah of my mind kept on. I
wonder what I’ll do today? Maybe I
should practice guided mediation now? No, that would wake Joe up. I could read
my scriptures? No, the sun’s not high enough to see without totally squinting.
Darn, I think I’m going to have to get up and go to the bathroom…Ok, Ok,
there’s a little pattern here…Let’s see…about 12 ish minutes apart. Maybe I
should do the dishes. I know I’d be happier if I did them when the girls
weren’t awake. That way I could spend more time playing with them…Why I am so
awake? I should be sleeping now…I may just have to take a nap later…
5 hours later…
“I don’t know!?” I said into the phone all wound up. I didn’t
want to sound stupid, but c’mon, how many labors are perfectly predictable?
This pregnancy so far was not like the others. And for the most part, I wasn’t
complaining.
“You can come in if you want, or you can wait till it
changes.” Boy I was glad the midwife on call was a mellow person. I was even
happier that Joe opted to stay home from work. He probably did for the fact
that I was awake completing the dishes after having done 10 other household
chores before 6:15.
“Nesting again?” He said with a smile. I’m glad he was
smiling. If he was upset about anything I wanted to do around the house when I
had enough energy to do it, he might be missing a limb.
“Or,” the midwife said, “You could take a shower or a bath.
The warm water usually speeds things up or slows things down.”
“Ok, I think I’ll do that.” At least I could do something,
I thought. “I’ll call you back if I think I’m coming in…” I hung up the phone.
3 hours in the tub…breathing with my contractions.
I couldn’t feel them.
It caught me off guard when I practiced the specific breathing with early
Braxton Hick’s. The books I read told me that I’d be unable to feel the common
pain of contractions-just by breathing correctly with the muscles of the
uterus. I skill I understood and was in
awe of, almost laughingly.
But after many hours I was not fascinated by the miracle. I was hanging
in limbo experiencing gentle waves in the bath. Waiting for something. To feel the magnitude and
intensity, sometimes I wouldn’t breathe with them. They were getting slightly
stronger. All I wanted, now, was for more of a change. For the last 3 hours
they hung out about 10 minutes apart. Very frustrating for a 5-minutes-apart-for-the-last-3-labors
girl.
“Joe, I need to get my mind off of this…get a book…no, with
Sherlock Homes I have to think…I don’t know…how about Twilight?” Familiar.
Simple. Flowing. Joe’s melodically deep voice helped me to relax.
4 something, afternoon.
4 something, dilated.
“It looks like you’re going to have this baby today!” I sat
up more straight in my hospital bed. What
a nice midwife to give me my wish! I said to myself very pleased. (Ha, like
she had anything to do with it!) I looked over at Joe. We both smiled. Every part of me was excited!! My baby is coming
to me today! This is it!!! This little unknown boy or girl, that will
become my buddy in so many ways. A real doll to love and cuddle and coo at and
feed. Babyhood is my favorite part of motherhood…Not to mention my new
experience with great midwives, and this new birthing method, the day is finally here!!! No
monitors were strapped to me and my hand was quickly unhooked from the IV after
given antibiotics. I was free to experience it all.
Almost bare and completely vulnerable.
My head bowed again as I went into myself for the 76th
time since awake. I didn’t talk. I didn’t respond. I breathed. The early
miracle of no pain transformed into 3rd person analysis of
impressions. There was not pain, but individual assessment of efficacy.
Evaluation of intensity without the edge.
One of the beneficial proficiency’s acquired from practicing
constructive breathing followed by uninterrupted surrender to undisturbed,
peaceful consciousness was how Ok, I was with it all. Fully aware. Definitely
“experiencing” each surge. But not plagued by helplessness in labor, with its
natural, beautiful rhythm.
“Maybe I’ll write a book about it!” I said to Joe after the
nurse’s comment. Oh, it was pretty hard not be “in the meditative zone” when
I probably should have been between
the contractions because they were definitely progressing, closer apart and
distinctly more intense. But because I
took them as little more than moments of observations, I was free to pick up
the conversation, and spend some quality time with the man I loved to converse
with. We weren’t bothered so much by ins and outs of nurses; it felt sort of
like a date! And the comment Joe made, I found
hilarious mid-contraction, it broke my inner dialogue and I burst out laughing.
The intensity of the contraction immediately left and I was unsure whether to
go back to my happy place or keep laughing, uh...happily? “Are you going to laugh
this baby out?” She said as she was charting some papers behind her curtain. “I
don’t know, maybe.” I chucked. (I had unlocked another secret!)
That lightness lasted for a while but soon
had to stop. I labored in the tub for a half an hour, allowing different
positions and greater focus. Then moving back in the bed to grab a bite to eat,
I said. “Joe, I think I need you now.” He stood up next to my bed pushing aside
his tray. “What do you want me to do?” He asked. “Just like we practiced. I
need to hear your voice. I need your words of affirmation.”
“You’re doing really great Jenni. I’m so proud of you…” His
attractive voice was on one side of the teeter-totter of the work my body was doing on the other side. I was active in the middle, balancing, watching as I felt what I chose. This is amazing! I said to myself over and over. The power of my body was nearing completion,
marching closer, stronger. Eager. I accepted full relaxation each time my body
rested from the pull.
None of the nurses were in the room. “Wow, Joe. If I have
another one like that, this baby will be out soon…I need you not to pause long
before you speak again during one. I need
to hear your voice…you’re doing great at helping me…”
Late 5 something in the evening.
Again. It happened, similar to the last birth. It was
automatic. My body was ready, my baby was ready. The transition. My eyes
closed unthinking as my body moved to accommodate the evolution. My breath
accelerated. From this point on I was unaware of modern devices and bystanders
and came inside myself. Only giving instructions or asking questions.
This is where time no longer exists for a woman. A form of suspension
that travels back to Eve, the first human in this world to bear a child. I wonder
what time of the year it was? If Adam was scared? If Eve watched with wonder
and amazement as her body brought forth her first. Natural. Complete.
Sacred. Embracing the work of bringing into
the world new life that she could pass on to her daughters. Unlike us, she had
no due date to wait upon. “Could you put your hand under my knee? It feels
better.” The birth only marked by the position of the stars. A cosmically
simple process of muscles operating perfectly, made to experience an unfolding. “I’ve got to slow down my breathing…” They say knowing a mother’s birth can
help an expectant daughter know how hers will go. “Joe, hold my hand.” Funny,
but all that would go back to Mother Eve and what she felt, both in mind and
body. “Are you sure I can stretch enough?” Eve felt the rhythm, was her work full of praise?
“Please hold my hands. I have to feel my hands!” Was there peace and self-belief? Eve could not rely on a doctor or even Adam for her first time,
but fully trusting in God and His ability to create a magnificent channel for
placing spirits into bodies, to abscond from the matrix to their first breath.
Intuition. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this…” Perception. Bringing
into the world expectant children who yearn for love within a family and to be taught
in truth.
Women are the bridge between the two worlds of existence.
6:26 pm
I feel the baby emerge, excited noises around me. I open my
eyes to help my baby onto my chest.
“My baby! My baby!” I said between fresh breaths of air. My
body weeps with joy as I look onto Joe’s face.
“Daddy, are you going to tell us what it is?” My midwife
said, showing a large grin of happiness for a job well done.
“A girl. It’s another girl!” He said calmly with a smile.
“A girl. I have another sweet, precious girl!” Thank you God, I said in my mind. Thank you…!
* * *
I blinked several times, holding back the tears I wanted let to flow. Exhaustion and elation. My sweet baby Claira fitting perfectly into my arms. A new, special, unique girl that is not #4. She is Claira, as if she were my only. She and I shared something magnificent.
When I birthed Anne I came from a place where I couldn't. But as life unfolds, I found that I am the only one to define myself. And deep down, I knew that
I
could.
I've answered questions for more clarification on my experience on my personal blog here if you'd like to read more.
