maple's birth, part two

(Read part one of the story.)

When we last saw our heroine, she was writhing in the tub and had just found out she was only dilated to 4cm. Let's see how she resolves this difficult situation...

So the birth team had just scurried off into the other room in order to give me some space to "do my work." For the next hour or so, I floated around in the tub and tried to give myself over to the contractions. I closed my eyes and imagined my cervix dilating. I guess this worked pretty well, because when Constance checked me an hour later, I was "almost at 8." This made me very happy.

The next thing I remember, probably a few contractions later, was that I started feeling tingly and lightheaded. At this point, Sean was in the tub with me and I was laying back against him. I felt kind of restrained in this position, and as much as I loved being near Sean, I wasn't sure I liked having him in the tub with me. I wanted all that space to roll around like a dolphin with a tumor. Anyway, Constance became very concerned when I told her I was tingly, and she said I'd have to get out of the tub. WHAT?!?! How could I do that? The tub was the only thing between me and the most intense contractions in the world! But she was pretty insistent, so I got out of the tub and went into the bedroom, where I lay in bed and had some of the most fierce contractions ever, while Stacey worked on cooling the tub down for me. I don't remember much of my time in the bedroom. God love those labor hormones for taking me to another planet.

Finally, they said I could return to the tub. This was quite good news. The tub was now refreshingly cooler and I got in by myself so I could work on my dolphin maneuvers. I did a bunch more contractions, and then I started to feel a new sensation -- pushing! I announced that I was starting to feel like pushing, so Constance asked me to feel for my cervix to see if I was fully dilated. This sounded crazy to me -- how the heck would I know if I was fully dilated? But I did it anyway. I felt something soft and smushy, like a skin-filled sac of water. I thought that my cervix had gotten swollen from my pushing against it before it was completely dilated. But I later learned that it was the baby's head. I had no idea the head wouldn't feel like a hard skull.

Constance checked me and confirmed that I had a cervical "lip," which means basically that you are fully dilated except for a small sliver of the cervix that hasn't yet moved out of the way. Before going into labor, I had dreaded the evil lip thing, as another woman in my homebirth education class had a lip which never moved, and she ended up having a c-section. But during my labor, for some reason, the lip didn't bother me too much. I figured that my body had done everything else it needed to do, and it would certainly deal with this too.

Next, Constance told me that I would have to resist the urge to push, because pushing against a lip could cause a swollen cervix, which would then take time to unswell, and basically I'd be in labor for the rest of my life. At least that's how I interpreted what she said. The idea of not-pushing was so ridiculous, but I told her I would do it. She said I had to resist pushing for five contractions, and then I could push the baby out. But then she told me another piece of news -- that the tub was now too cold for giving birth. Again, I would have thought this would be heartbreaking, but there is something about labor that makes you take things in stride. So I resolved to not push for the next five contractions and then get out of the tub so I could meet this little person who'd been kicking my insides for seven long months.

Not pushing was by far the most horrendous part of labor. Thank goodness I had Stacey and Sean supporting me. Stacey helped me through each contraction by doing "high breathing" with me. I would look into her eyes for the entire contraction and try to "stay above" the urge to push. I felt like a miserable failure most of the time, since my body would involuntarily push, even though I tried so hard not to. They had told me that would happen, and that I just had to resist as much as I could. I couldn't believe the contortions that my body was doing, like full-body muscle twitches. And the noises! Oh my. Let's hope the neighbors had some good drugs, like a Valium or ten.

I think I made it through two or three contractions without pushing, and the rest of the time I had quite a few moments of involuntary pushing. Everyone said I did great, but as my own worst critic, I believed none of it.

Finally it was time to go into the bedroom to have the baby. I couldn't believe it. I was as elated as one can be during labor. I think at this point I said to Constance, "What is the name of that place you went to today?" and she said, "Wild Waves." I replied, "Honey, I don't know what you've been doing, but I'm the one that's been on wild waves all day." In the moment, I thought this was the funniest thing I'd ever come up with. Everyone pretended to laugh.

The bedroom appeared as if it had been set up for a romantic evening between two oversexed teenagers whose parents were in Aruba. Well, except for all the medical supplies and the giant pregnant groaning lady. A nightgown was draped over a lamp to give the room a gentle pink glow (how embryonic!), and the bed was untucked and ready for action. Sean got into the bed with his back against the headboard, and I sat up against him while Constance checked my cervix. The lip was still there! No!!! She called in for backup, which arrived in the form of two herbal tinctures: clary sage and evening primrose oil, which both work to soften the cervix. The idea was that she would apply the herbs to my cervix and then I would push during my contractions while she tried to slip the cervix over the baby's head. Now how cool is that? I hate to think what they would have done with me in the hospital, but I suspect I'd be signing release forms for a c-section instead of "gettin' herbal wit' it."

The herbs worked, and soon it was time to push in earnest. I was dying to get on all fours for some reason, so that's what I did. I had my face in Sean's neck and my rear was facing the birth team. (It's a good thing labor removes all one's inhibitions!). I remember being a little scared that I would projectile poop all over Constance during a push, but I told myself that this worry would make me less likely to push as hard as I could, so I dismissed it. I figured that if I crapped all over her head, I wouldn't be the first.

So here's another great thing about home birth. No one tells you how or when to push, until you're crowning and they want you to preserve your intact perineum. (What a magical phrase: "intact perineum" -- I want to say it over and over. Intact perineum. INTACT PERINEUM. Okay sorry. Ahem. More on the INTACT PERINEUM later.)

When a contraction came, I pushed. Doesn't that make sense? If someone had been counting to ten while I pushed, I would have knocked his other contact lens out. A lady in labor knows how to get a baby out. How else would the human race have survived? Anyway, I pushed for about 15 minutes I think, and then the baby's head was crowning. Sean and I got to reach down and feel her head, which is when I realized that the thing I'd felt in the tub was actually her head and not my cervix. Cool! Baby head! Baby head! It was very exciting. As the baby's head started to come out, Constance would tell me to stop pushing for a second here and there, which was to allow my INTACT PERINEUM to stretch over her head. It felt like I was docking a large ship! "Okay push... now stop... pant... a little push... okay hang on..." While the head was crowning, Constance applied pressure (and a generous amount of olive oil) to my perineum so that it would be supported and wouldn't tear. I give her all the credit for my INTACT PERINEUM.

Pushing felt great. I roared like a special-ed lion, but it was awesome nonetheless. I could hear Phoenix (the dog) in the backyard bellowing along with my growls. It was like she was cheering me on. Either that or my noises were giving her a coronary.

At the last minute, Constance asked me to turn over so that I could push Maple out. I sat up against Sean, who held on to me and was so strong the whole time. I was amazed at how strong he was, even with his cracked rib. At this point I kept yelling, "It stings!" and "It burns!" and lots of "Oh God"'s. Constance and Stacey kept saying, "Yes, it stings. That's okay. You're doing great." And then the head was out. I figured it would be easy after that, but the body was pretty big too. It felt so weird when her body was born, I wish I could explain it but "weird" will have to do. She cried before she was completely out, and then they laid her on my belly. I probably pushed for about 40 minutes in all. It was a complete shock to see a baby on my belly. Of course I knew intellectually that there was a baby inside me, but I think that you don't fully understand it all until you see and feel her. She was really hot and squishy and HUGE. I couldn't believe how big she was.

In the pictures, the expression on my face is one of shocked curiosity. As if I was thinking, "What is this? How did this get here?" I wanted to make sure it was a girl, but I didn't know how to pick her up, so she just laid there face down on me. The birth team was wiping her off, and she was sneezing and coughing the fluids out of her lungs and nose. And crying. It was so neat. At one point Constance went to suction some stuff out of her nose, and Maple jerked her face out of the way and sneezed, as if to say, "Get away from me with that thing, can't you see I'm on it?"

Much of this time is a blur to me, but I remember vividly the sensation of her body on mine and the cord between my legs. Sean cut the cord once it stopped pulsating, and then there were 14 hands trying to get her to breastfeed. Someone else was yanking my other nipple around, trying to get the placenta to come out. (Nipple stimulation causes the uterus to contract, which brings the placenta out.) The placenta was finally delivered, we made sure she was a she, and then the birth team quietly disappeared so that we could bond as a family. There we were, in the teenage sex date lair, suddenly a family.

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Having Maple was by far the best experience of my life. We surrounded ourselves with people we trusted and loved, and stayed at home where we were comfortable. Every decision we made was the perfect one for us. Each person at the birth was amazing -- helpful and sweet and comforting. I would not change a single thing, and I hope that by documenting this safe, sane homebirth experience, I might encourage one or two people to consider birthing at home. It was so worth it.

During the entire pregnancy, labor, and delivery, Sean was absolutely awesome. He was there for me in every possible way, doing everything from logistics and planning in early labor to rubbing my back and encouraging me when I wasn't supposed to push, and finally holding me up physically while I gave birth to our baby. It feels silly to even try to put words to how amazing he is. I could never have done this without him. (Okay I guess that is sort of obvious.) I think it's so cool that he trusted birth as much as I did, so that we could have Maple at home. Becoming a family with Sean is the most rewarding thing I've ever done.

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And the best part of the whole birth? No stitches! Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. This is the home of the INTACT PERINEUM! THANK YOU! GOODNIGHT!