Before I begin Cedar's birth story, I want to put out a little disclaimer. I myself will never judge another woman for the birth experience she chooses for herself and her child. Every child is a gift and every mother is a goddess for creating and then bringing life into this world. There is beauty in every birth and we are lucky to live in a time where women have options on how they can choose to give birth. I myself chose to have a natural homebirth for a number of reasons. First, I am a low risk woman who therefore had the option to consider a natural birth. Secondly, I believe that this country's media and for-profit medical system has convinced healthy women that giving birth is scary and we are unable to birth without medical intervention. Third, I trust my body's ability to do what it was made to do. Fourth, I wanted to give birth at home surrounded by as few people as possible so I could tune into my body and my baby and have the birth experience that I intended. Fifth, even though I am a caesarean baby myself who turned out just fine, I do believe that how a baby enters into this world stays with them throughout their whole lives, even if it is just in their subliminal minds. I wanted to provide our baby with the most beautiful, low stress experience he could have, and I felt that giving birth in a familiar, quiet, comfortable environment, like our home, was how to achieve this.
(me at 40 weeks)
And now, I am happy to FINALLY share Cedar's birth story with all of you. :)
Let me start at the beginning. My pregnancy with Cedar was a gift. We had just been married and decided to throw caution to the wind. If it happens, it happens, right? And yet, we didn't expect for it to happen so quickly. I had been warned by a medium years earlier that I had to be very "careful" otherwise I'd have a baby before I knew it. So, I was "careful" and remained diligent with taking my birth control pills. But when we were married I told Rich I didn't want to put chemicals into my body anymore, and he was fine with that, so off the pill I went and boom(!), Cedar was conceived.
We chose to have a homebirth after lots of research and deliberation. We interviewed a few midwives in the New York area and finally decided on Valeriana (aka Val). She was warm and wise and we liked her immediately. We spent two hours interviewing her and the woman who became our doula, Gayla. I was confident that the birth that I envisioned would be possible in their hands.
I had dreams of being this super active pregnant woman (much like some of my goddess friends) climbing, hiking, and practicing yoga throughout my whole pregnancy. The first trimester put a major kibosh on that. My energy went down the tubes. I would work all day, come home, eat dinner, and pass out sometimes in mid-conversation. I couldn't sleep enough. I was always exhausted. Exhausted and nauseated. Why is it that all of the most difficult pregnancy symptoms must be felt in the first trimester when you can't tell anyone you're pregnant?! How annoying!!! I relied on the acupressure wristbands called Sea Bands to get me through my day. And because of their ability to ward off nausea, I never actually vomited. But boy, did I feel like it.
Oh, to be a newlywed drunk on pregnancy hormones. Good times. It's amazing my loving husband didn't insist on an annulment very early on. Luckily, he stuck by me and my exhausted, nauseated, emotional self. With the second trimester, things became much better. I had some of my energy back. The nausea was gone and I was "starting to show". :) Around 20 weeks I finally figured out that what I thought was gas was actually our baby kicking me with his tiny little feet. I remember laying in bed in the middle of the night on our trip to the Philippines, feeling those little kicks. I woke Rich up, grabbed his hand, and placed it on my abdomen. Sure enough, he felt it too. Soooooo friggin' cool! The second trimester also brought on intense back pain due to a pair of herniated discs I have in my lower back and the added weight I was putting on around my midsection. I started to see a chiropractor regularly and an acupuncturist occasionally. I'd walk in limping and walk out feeling good as new. They were my feel-good team.
By the third trimester, I was getting big. Big and tired again. I love to eat, so this pregnancy gave me every excuse to eat whatever my little heart desired. By the end I had gained 45 lbs. My blood pressure, blood chemistry, and overall health was still good. I had religiously taken prenatal vitamins, Vitamin D, Vitamin C, probiotics, and DHA, done my 100 daily kegels, as well as had my daily cup of Red Raspberry Leaf tea (known for strengthening the uterus). I might have been waddling, but I felt pretty good considering. We had decided not to find out the sex of our little baby until he/she was born, however I felt pretty certain that we were having a boy. He was kicking the ever-loving sh*t out of me every day, all day. I kept joking that he had his daddy's super strong cyclist legs. But I was kind of starting to wonder why in our Bradley Method birth classes, all of the other mothers were lovingly touching their bellies high when they felt kicks, while I consistently felt my baby's kicks low. Valeriana was on vacation for the month of March, so we visited Gayla instead. When I brought up my concerns to her, she checked the baby's positioning and told me that she thought the baby was breech. Sure enough, as soon as Val returned she verified at Week 35 that our baby was in fact a breech baby. There was a chance that the baby would turn on his own, but if he didn't then I would be faced with having a caesarean in the hospital, something that I was very much wanting to avoid. I had consistently been having Braxton Hicks contractions throughout the last trimester, but they had started to happen much more frequently. So much so, that I kind of got used to them being a normal part of my day. Any time I'd walk up and down the stairs ( I work on the second floor of a two story office and live in a third floor walk-up), walk "briskly" anywhere ("briskly" meaning really just whenever I was walking outside or in my office), or have to stand up in the subway on my commute... Well, you get the picture. I was getting them a lot. I was starting to think that this baby was going to come early, and that really freaked me out. At this point, my midwife advised that I needed to stop working and go on bed rest (10 days before my planned last day of work, which was already 2 weeks before the baby was due) because of my stress level and my amniotic fluid being lower than normal. She told me that I needed to rest, hydrate, and concentrate on getting this baby to turn. I tried a little bit of everything to coax the turn, but eventually ended up at 37 weeks in a hospital in Greenwich, CT, with Valeriana at my side, Rich holding my hand, and Dr. Migotsky attempting and finally achieving an external cephalic version (ECV). God, I could write an entire blog post about that experience alone! It was painful, but SO WORTH IT. Afterwards our healthy little baby was head down! Yippee! We were SO EXCITED!!! However, babies who are turned in an ECV occasionally flip back to their original breech position, so our goal was to keep him happily in his brand new ideal anterior birthing position until May 5th, his due date.
(Reading Dr. Sears' excellent "The Baby Book" while doing my pelvic tilt exercises)
Fast forward to Sunday afternoon, May 1st... Rich and I had gone walking around our town of Hoboken to check out the annual Arts and Music Festival where I fell prey to a half price vegetable samosa. It was the end of the day, and the vendor was attempting to get rid of whatever was left over. I love samosas, so what's the harm, right? By the next morning, Monday, May 2nd, I had THE WORST case of food poisoning I'd ever had. I had diarrhea and projectile vomiting all at the same time. It was so bad that I had to call Rich and ask him to come home from work and take care of me.
By Wednesday, May 4th I finally felt like I was getting back to normal after having been sick for the last two days. I woke up earlier than usual and couldn't fall back to sleep, so I decided to feed our two kitties and then make my way to the rest room. After a totally normal morning pee, I looked down to see that there was blood on the toilet paper. MY BLOODY SHOW! HOLY CRAP!!! The first sign the baby was on his way! I woke Rich up excitedly and told him the news. Oh my God! We could be parents by the end of the day! Stay calm. Stay calm. Go about your normal business. No reason to get excited. We had our 40 week appointment with Val that evening. She encouraged us to be ready, but to stay level headed. If I were to start having contractions that evening, I should try to ward them off with a glass of red wine and a hot shower. There was no need to stay up all night in labor. I needed to get as much rest as possible before the big event. And if I could sleep at night and labor during the day that would be ideal for all parties involved.
I fell asleep around 10PM, only to wake up at midnight with my first contractions. Into the hot shower I went. And after 9 months of not drinking, I popped open a bottle of Rosso Di Montalcino 2008 Vendemmia chianti, and poured myself a glass. Back to sleep I went.
Thursday, May 5th... The baby's official due date. At 6AM I was up with more contractions after a restless sleep. I had tried staying in bed as long as I could, but I was just too uncomfortable. I decided to take another hot shower just to relax a bit, only to find out that there wasn't any hot water. Rich does some investigation and discovers that our hot water heater is in fact, broken. Oh my God! You have got to be kidding me! I'm having contractions, and we don't have any hot water!!! Stay calm, Summer, stay calm. Rich does some quick internet research and finds a highly recommended repairman only blocks away. He places a call, expecting to get an answering machine at this time in the morning, and someone actually answers(!). He keeps his cool, stressing how important it is to have the repairman come over as soon as possible without telling him that I am having a baby. No need to freak anyone out, right? Within a couple of hours, I'm laying in bed, relaxing into my still inconsistent contractions, while the repairman fixes our hot water heater and we're back in business. By 8-9 AM I call our doula Gayla to let her know that I have started having contractions overnight and she advises me to go about my day and let her know when the contractions start becoming regular. Rich calls his shop and lets them know that he's not coming in. At noon we decide to walk to the waterfront for lunch. We pick up sandwiches from a local deli and sit on a park bench eating and pausing only when I experience a contraction, which we realize are becoming stronger and have now consistently been spaced 20 minutes apart. Here we go. :) The first stage of labor has officially begun and it feels like heavy menstrual cramping. When we get home, I call Gayla again and give her an update. She sounds pleased and excited, then advises me to take it easy and keep monitoring the contractions. When they get to be 10 minutes apart, we are to give her a call again.
By 4pm, I remember watching Oprah and continuing to experience contractions. At some point, I realized I can't continue watching the show because my contractions were getting much stronger and closer together, and I just couldn't concentrate on the television anymore. I remember turning off the television and deciding to start doing some of the relaxation exercises I had learned in our Bradley class. From this point on, time is a little spotty for me because I was so focused on gaining the internal force that I was going to need. For the rest of the afternoon into the evening, my contractions continued to strengthen and move closer together. I prepared the house for what I was starting to realize was going to be a night of labor. I laid out the battery-powered flickering votives and started listening to my chosen labor music, Jonsi & Alex's stunning album Riceboy Sleeps. I swayed back and forth on the exercise ball while breathing deeply into my contractions. I chose to vocalize the word OOOOOOOOOO-pen so that I could focus on the sound and visualize my body opening up each time I shaped the word, much like you focus on the word "Om" when you begin or end your yoga practice. This word and the way that I elongated it, did the same for me. It focused my energy and helped me to work with my body rather than fight against the deep sensations that I was feeling.
I don't recall what time I talked to Gayla again, but I remember the contractions were somewhere around 7 minutes apart and when I had one, it was super intense. I had to stop whatever I was doing and chant "OOOOOOOOO-pen. OOOOOOOOO-pen," until they were finished. She heard me on the other end of the phone and told us she'd be to our place in an hour. Up until this point, Rich had been inflating the birthing pool, moving furniture around, making food in the kitchen, and running over to rub my lower back every time he started hearing my chant. I tried resting with my knees on the floor while my head and upper body swaying back and forth on an exercise ball. I tried rocking back and forth while leaning on a chair. I tried holding onto Rich and swaying back and forth as I worked with each contraction. It all helped me focus on opening my body up and aided in my transition through labor until Gayla arrived.
Gayla arrived at 10PM and immediately labor somehow got more manageable. I'm not going to say that Rich and I weren't doing a pretty okay job ourselves, but having her there with all of her wisdom and experience sure made things better.
Oh wait, I forgot to mention something pretty important that you need to know. At some point throughout this whole ordeal, my diarrhea had returned with a vengeance. Literally, every other contraction I had, I was running to the rest room and crapping my brains out. OH MY GOD!!! All I could think about was "Please, not now. I don't want to have diarrhea during this. I don't want to diarrhea on my beautiful little baby!" It was terrible, and it was funking up my flow. I had been committed to maintaining a holistic approach to medicine throughout my whole pregnancy, and I didn't want to stop that now. When Gayla arrived she brought with her charcoal pills, which were supposed to help stop the diarrhea. I gulped them down with my labor aid (a natural lemon, honey, electrolyte drink that we had whipped up for the event) and hoped for the best. She also checked my urine to make sure that I wasn't dehydrated, which luckily I wasn't. As an aside, during normal homebirths the mother is encouraged to eat and drink as much as she wants or needs. I looked forward to this leading up to this moment, and then as soon as the diarrhea appeared all of my dreams of eating comfort foods went straight out the window. I was instantly confined to only eating binding foods like bananas, white bread, apples, and white rice to keep up my energy. No fun. But necessary. And we didn't have any of these foods in the house because I'm a whole grain/ brown rice type of girl, so right in the thick of it, Rich had to run to the supermarket and pick it all up while Gayla and I labored on, walking around the house looking into each other's eyes, her harmonizing in my "Open" chant with me. Her expertly rubbing my lower back and applying pressure to my hips as I worked with my contractions. Me in the hot shower letting the water ease my deep sensations.
I'm not sure when it happened. Again, I was in labor-land, so time wasn't something I was paying attention to. But at some point we realized that my contractions were not getting closer together and so, in an attempt to get us to conserve energy, Gayla put both of us into bed. I remember now how beautiful it was. Rich and I asleep in our bed with only one votive flickering in the darkness. Gayla sat in meditation next to the bed, only inches from me. It was as if she was my wise mother sent there to ease my discomfort. Any time my body would tighten with a contraction and my breathing would deepen she would massage my body intently, assisting in its' softening and surrender. Even then, while I focused so intently on the powerful sensations inside of me, I felt the magic of the moment.
When my contractions starting becoming more frequent and I began running back to the rest room regularly again, I remember hearing Gayla on the phone with Valeriana, informing her of my progress. It was then that I hit a wall. My first moment of self doubt. The contractions were so intense. I was weak from very little sleep the past few days and my ever present diarrhea. I was ready to throw in the towel. I couldn't do this. I tried. But this was the end of me being silly with my natural birth ideals. This is the reason why women ask for an epidural, I thought. This is why, and I need relief. I was afraid. I needed help. I turned to Rich. He reminded me that we had learned in our Bradley class that self doubt was a natural, very important stepping stone in birth, often signifying transition, and that I was going to make it through. "But," I argued, "I'm exhausted. I'm weak. I'm sick with diarrhea. Just take me to the hospital. Give me an epidural and tell me when to push." He consoled me, "Baby, if that's what you really want, then we will do that for you. But you've worked so hard and you can do this. Please just give it a little longer." Gayla came around the corner to see me in a heap on the bed begging Rich for relief and she urged me to reconsider. "You've done such a great job so far. You can do this." Then she handed the phone to me and I spoke with Val. I remember almost crying to her on the phone, explaining that I was worried about the baby. How was all of this diarrhea effecting him? I wanted a natural birth, but not like this. Val listened to everything I said. She listened to me experience another particularly difficult contraction and then she said, "Summer, I'm going to be there soon. Just do me a favor and try laboring in the birthing pool for a little while and see how you feel. If when I get there, you still want to go to the hospital, then we'll take you. But I think that you're going to feel much better once you're in that water." I reluctantly agreed and Rich went about filling up the birth pool.
At maybe 4AM, Valeriana arrived. By this point Gayla had rechecked to make sure that I was indeed not dehydrated and I had taken Imodium, which had helped to slow down the diarrhea. FINALLY. I was in the birthing pool, totally naked luxuriating in the warm water. Boy, had things changed. That pool was AMAZING!!! Every time I had a contraction, which by this time were anywhere between 2-5 minutes apart, Gayla or Rich would pour warm healing water over my back as I chanted "OOOOOOOO-pen" and rested on the edge of the pool. The water just seemed to help my pain melt away. Valeriana smiled when she saw my renewed strength and self-assurance. I was back in the game. I was still running from the pool every few contractions to the restroom, but my diarrhea had slowed. She checked the baby's heart rate with her doppler, and sure enough it sounded perfectly strong. The baby was okay and I was back to being the warrior I envisioned myself being.
I could have stayed in that pool all morning. In fact, I was in the pool for 3-4 hours before Gayla suggested that it was time to change it up. I needed to move this along, and while the pool had been great for a while, we needed to do something different now. I reluctantly obliged and stepped from the pool for the last time as they wrapped me in my bathrobe. The next phase of labor was going to be spent marching around the house holding onto Gayla or Rich and then doing rhythmic squats when a contraction surged. The goal was to get the baby down and out. And so it went. I worried I was stomping too loudly, and that I would bother neighbors, who by this time had to be waking up getting ready for work. Rich taped a hand-written sign on the door which stated "Labor in Progress. Please Do Not Disturb" just in case anyone felt the need to pry. Finally, I realized that my diarrhea had stopped. I felt strong. I felt focused. This baby was going to come out soon. I stomped, and stomped, and stomped. And at some point I realized that as I squated during a contraction, I felt the need to push. I told them and they agreed that I should go for it. I should PUSH. Excitedly, I began pushing, but after a few times I realized nothing really seemed to be happening.
The sun was streaming in through our blinds and a part of me was struck with just how much time had actually passed, although I still didn't know what time it was. Valeriana suggested that I attempt pushing on the toilet. I don't know what it was, maybe the fact that I'd had so much diarrhea, but I suddenly found that pushing on the toilet was not effective at all. I tried it for a few contractions. Rich even removed the shelf from above the toilet so I could sit backwards and rest against the tank. Val suggested that maybe it was just because I was shy and didn't want people around me while I pushed. Many people have stubbornly shy sphincter muscles, and need to be alone to push for a bit to make progress. So they left me alone. There I sat, all alone pushing into a toilet whenever I felt a contraction, nothing happening. Rich had placed a pillow on the toilet tank for me to rest on. I remember gazing at the light filtering in through the blinds, feeling that it was morning, realizing I was exhausted, and then noticing that my contractions were slowing down and I was dozing off. How disheartening! Rich came to check on me and I explained to him that I was frustrated. This wasn't working. I was tired. I needed to rest. I felt like my contractions were weakening. I couldn't go through this all again. As hard as it was to come to terms with, I needed a break. He escorted me out of the rest room and explained to Val and Gayla that I wanted to sleep and then we'd try again. They both took me to the bedroom while Rich settled in for some New York Times reading on his Blackberry in the living room, expecting that I was going to be asleep any minute.
In the bedroom, I explained to Val the frustration I was feeling and how I didn't feel as though I was making progress, no matter how hard I pushed. She decided that she was going to check me and see how much my cervix had effaced. This was the first time that Val actually checked me since her arrival. We weren't sure when or if my water had broken and the more a woman is checked internally, the bigger the chance that outside bacteria can be introduced into the birth canal. So, while Gayla had checked me twice before Val had arrived, this was the first time Val took a look. I laid back on my bed, my legs spread wide. Val was crouched at the foot of the bed and I think Gayla was next to me. Val inserted her fingers and discovered that there was the tiniest lip of stubborn cervix still left. This was the reason I hadn't made progress. I was pushing up against a wall. She told me that she was going to move the cervix back and then she said the most amazing words I had heard throughout my journey, "Summer, do you feel my fingers?". "Yes," I answered. "That's where your baby's head is. Push into my fingers." And so I did. And it was ONNNNNNNN! I was PUSHING, GOD DAMN IT! And MY BABY WAS COMING THE F*CK OUT!
I moaned and a beast came alive inside of me. I felt it! I was doing it! My adrenaline was pumping and it was working! I think Gayla called Rich over and told him that it was time. He was a bit in shock, expecting that I was going to take a nap, and now here I was a savage beast pushing with everything I had. After that contraction, they asked me to position myself onto all fours at the head board, while Rich sat in the bed next to me speaking words of encouragement and wiping my sweating brow and neck with a cool wash cloth. I remember the space between contractions and how I felt our baby within my body as I breathed in healing gulps of air. And then another contraction would come and I would scream and moan and push with all of the primal strength I could summon. Val urged me during a rest to start pushing into my anus and not into my throat, otherwise I was going to blow my vocal chords. She also told me to pay attention very carefully to her instructions, and to slow down my pushing when she advised me to. She didn't want me to tear and so I had to be calculated and control my efforts. I tuned into everything she said as if she were the only one in the room. I felt the baby's body descend within my birth canal and the stretching of my body and the flexing of my bones. At one point, she instructed me to reach down and feel my baby's head. I gasped and lowered my hand. I felt a hard, wet, silken head. It was so surreal. I was moments away from meeting our child. Then I pushed a few more times and she invited Rich to take a look at our baby. The head was out. He was sort of creeped out by it, but he moved to my backside and saw the little head fully emerged. I held this position feeling every sensation in my body. Feeling my baby, knowing that I only had to give one more push or so and the baby's shoulders and body would be born. When the next contraction came, and Valeriana told me to push. I pushed with everything I had! And the next thing I knew, there was this tiny little blue-ish, wet, crying baby laying beneath me. Valeriana had expertly caught him and passed him through my legs onto the pad below me. He lay there gasping for air, breathing his first breaths, crying his first guttural cries, blinking into his first light, and I gazed at him in disbelief, shock, exhaustion, and utter exuberance. This was our baby. We had done it. The baby was a boy. He was here! He was our Cedar! About 30 seconds passed as I just breathed in air, touched, and focused on this little baby, gathering in all I could of this sight. Rich kissed me and stared at both of us in disbelief. Val rubbed Cedar's little body and appraised him to ensure he was okay, but allowed us to really regard our son for the first time. And then I finally found my voice, "Hi baby... I'm your mommy." I stroked his back. The spell was broken, and I was able to talk again. Cedar was born at 10:08AM, Friday, May 6th.
We lifted him onto my abdomen and covered him with his froggie blanket. The cord was short so we couldn't bring him up any further. They waited for the cord to stop pulsing with healing cord blood and then clamped it and cut it. He lay on my belly as Rich and I gazed at him, falling deeply in love. Val then told me to push when I felt a contraction, and out came the placenta. I was officially no longer pregnant!!! What a fantastic feeling!!!
For the next hour or so, we laid there with Cedar's bare skin on my bare skin, watching and encouraging him as he slowly and deliberately kicked, crawled, and head-bobbed up to my left breast to complete the birth crawl and latch onto my nipple for the first time. It was the most magical experience and my heart sang to see my tiny baby's eager lips surround my areola and then feel the sensation of him nursing for the first time.
(Val giving Cedar his first check-up)
After he had nursed, Gayla took my hand and led me off to the rest room to shower, while Val and Rich cleaned everything up. I remember how wonderful that water felt washing over my body, energizing me, healing me, welcoming me into the new day as a mother. When I stepped from the shower, Gayla met me with a towel. "I'm so proud of you, Summer. You did a wonderful job. This is the day that you have been born into this world as a mother. Celebrate in your birth today, for you will never be the same." Being alone with her in our rest room, I felt for the first time the invisible line that would forever attach me to our son. And I knew I was now a mother.
(Cedar all swollen and peely. Only 1 1/2 hour old, totally alert and interested in the world already.)
Rich and I had decided not to inform anyone when I went into labor. We didn't want anyone interupting and checking in on our progress. Rather, we wanted it to be a time for us. A couple of hours after he was born, the phone calls and the Facebook posts with the good news started. We could barely contain ourselves. But that first day it was only for us. We told our mothers that only they could come the next day, and then the rest of the family could come the day after that. But that first day was for the three of us. We were a new family and we wanted to enjoy being a family alone for that precious first day.
(Breakfast in bed with my little love. It doesn't get any better than this.)
Looking back on this experience, I wouldn't have changed a thing. It was the most empowering, inspiring, beautiful, wonderful, and perfect birth I could have ever desired. It was everything I had hoped for. Everything I had dreamed of. Everything I had intended.
And now, I write my Cedar's birth story sitting in the bed he was born in only 13 short weeks ago, while he sleeps soundly for a few more precious hours in his crib at the foot of the bed.
I have been blessed to have had this experience and to be able to share it with you.
xoxo-
Summer
3 comments:
Bravo, woman! For writing a beautiful, strong story about a beautiful, strong birth. Motherhood is a powerful thing, and your story shows women how it is possible to harness that power!
This brought tears to my eyes! Thank you for sharing your amazing story, Summer.
What an amazing, empowering birth story! Thank you for sharing it, and congratulations on the birth of your beautiful son. Kudos for believing in yourself and trusting your body!
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