Elia’s Birth Story

Elia Claire was born at home early in the morning on December 31, 2007.  Her birth was amazingly calm, instinctual, and even romantic. I feel so blessed to have experienced birth in this way; in a place I love, with my husband to support me.  To look back on it now, after almost 2 weeks, I can’t believe how easy it was.  Although technically, I labored for 20 hours or more, it feels like it went so fast! Here is how it all started…

My mother called on Saturday, December 29, to tell us to bring Caleb down to her new apartment in Olympia.  She had spent the whole day moving into her new place, and at first I was uneasy about taking Caleb down there, thinking it would be too much for her after a day spent moving.  But she insisted, saying that I would not go into labor until Caleb was being taken care of.  I laughed, and said that it didn’t matter!  The baby would come when the baby was ready, regardless of where Caleb was.  Since Mark had the evening off from work, he thought it would be a good idea to drive Caleb down. So, later that evening, Mark took Caleb to spend a few days at Grandma’s.              

Early the next morning, I awoke to contractions that were a bit stronger than those I had been having the week or two prior.  Not strong enough to get me out of bed, I would doze off in between contractions and dream, only to be awakened some time later by another. My dreams began to take on the rhythm of the contractions: I dreamt of being in water, swimming in a large, warm pool of water with Caleb.  We were laughing and chasing after each other in the water.  I also dreamed of being in a room with a balcony that overlooked lush green hills, the type of hills that Mark and I saw in Puerto Rico on a trip many years before our children were born.  In the distance, I could see the ocean, and just make out the whitecaps of waves as they rolled into shore. Another contraction interrupted my dream, and when I returned to this balcony, my view had changed.  Now I was at the beach, and I could look down into a lagoon that was still, separated from the waves by a jetty.  I could watch waves come in to shore on the other side of the jetty and I felt warm, safe and excited, even in sleep.                           

After a couple of hours, Mark and I began to wake up, and I rolled over to him and whispered, “Today is the day”.  We spent some time cuddling and thinking about what the day would bring. Once we were up, I volunteered to make breakfast while he tidied up the house.  I burnt both the bacon and the eggs, and in frustration said I shouldn’t be allowed to cook eggs anymore!  He laughed and said, “No, you probably shouldn’t be allowed to cook eggs in labor”                             “That’s right, I thought! I am in labor!”  I would need to remind myself of that a few more times during the day before it really sank in.                           

At about 11:30am, I went to the morning lap swim at the Ballard Pool.  I was in the “slow lane”, and people kept passing me.  At first I thought that I should go a bit faster, but then remembered that I was in labor.  That made me giggle…I could only imagine what people would think if they knew they were swimming with a laboring woman!                           

Once I returned home and took a shower, it was time for Mark to go to work.  He promised to keep in touch, and if things were really progressing like we thought they were, he would find someone to cover his shift so he could come home.  He left me a beautiful place to labor, set up by the front window.  This window looked out into our very private front “yard”, which has a tall cedar tree.  During prenatal yoga classes, I used this tree to visualize my core energy.  I was strong, but I could bend, like a tree in the winter wind.  I wouldn’t snap, no matter how hard the wind blew.  I could surrender with strength.                           

My laboring place was a futon mattress, with a fresh white cover on it, lots of pillows and the birth ball.  It was a very simple place, but looked so beautiful with the light streaming in through the lacy curtains on the windows.  I found that I liked to be up on my knees with my arms on the birth ball, letting my belly hang down during contractions.  Another favorite position was in “child’s pose”, with my backside up in the air and my elbows supporting my weight on the pillows.   

I spent much of the afternoon pacing in the kitchen, eating chicken and dumplings I had made and frozen just for this occasion, and calling friends and family. I tried to watch a movie (Muriel’s Wedding, but I have yet to see the end).  I started losing about 40 seconds of the plot every 4 or 5 minutes and just couldn’t follow anymore.  I listened to my Hypno-Beginnings CDs (but strangely, not the one I was supposed to listen to in labor).  Most of all, I just enjoyed the last few hours of pregnancy, and the time alone with my baby still on the inside.  I think that this time to myself allowed me to create the mental space that I needed to really surrender to my labor, and to trust that my body knew what it was doing.  I called my doula and my midwife, who both reminded me to eat, rest, and stay in touch.  About 4:00pm or so, my contractions were still manageable, but began to require some effort and concentration to breathe through them.  They were still coming every 4 or 5 minutes, and lasting for about 40 seconds.               

I couldn’t decide to call and have the tub set up yet or not.  The instructions the company sent out said to wait until active labor, but the mothers I had heard from said to get it set up early because it takes a long to fill.  I finally decided to just go for it.  When April, the tub lady, arrived to set up the tub, she was a bit surprised that I was all alone.  “You do have people coming, right?” she asked.  I wonder if she thought I was so maverick to have a solo unassisted homebirth!  (Not this year, lady!) While she was here, I labored in the baby’s room.  By this time it was dark outside, and I had a rosy nightlight that provided just the perfect warmth and ambience to this space I had prepared for my daughter.  I tried to lie down and get some rest, but I found the contractions to be more painful when lying on my side in bed.  So I put a pillow on the floor and got on my knees, with my elbows up on the bed.  Around 7:30pm, Mark came home from work and spent a few minutes with the tub lady before she left.  Once we were alone, I came back out to the living room and put on some music (Dead Can Dance, very beautiful, a little tribal, and perfect).  I changed into a flowy black nightie and Mark lit some candles and brought me some food and drink.  We tried lying down for a little while, but again, the contractions hurt more lying down, or perhaps I was just less capable of coping, so it was back up on my knees leaning on my new best friend, the birth ball. We had a light meal of fresh mozzarella, tomatoes, basil and salami that he had prepared at work for us, and then decided to go for a walk.              

We were going to walk up to the park near our house, and I thought it would be a beautiful night to do it, but honestly wasn’t too excited about having contractions on the sidewalk.  We called to check in with our support team, though, and our midwife suggested that maybe we should think about getting some rest.  It was 8:30pm, I had been at it since 6am, and it looked like it was going to be a long night.  So, we filled up the bathtub with warm water, turned down the lights in the bathroom and lit a candle, and Mark poured me a glass of red wine.  I lay on my side in the warm water, as Mark poured water over me during my contractions.  I told him about my dreams that morning, and we talked about how excited we were to meet the baby.  I had Mark bring me the chocolates that he gave me for Christmas, and I labored with wine, chocolates and candlelight.  It was very romantic.  My contractions were strong, but the water helped relax my body so that I could really surrender to each one.  Mark reminded me that each contraction was bringing the baby closer to being born, and I focused on keeping my voice low and deep as I moaned.  I think at about this time, I started to say “Open” over and over during the peaks, and envisioned my whole body opening to this experience.             

When I was a little girl, as I lay in bed at night in that magical state between being asleep and awake, I used to imagine that I was both as big as the entire universe and as small as the tiniest dot, at the same time.  It was a free feeling, and sometimes I would be able to absorb myself so completely in it that I would lose all physical sensation in my body, and just feel as if I were floating.  During my pregnancy, I took hypnosis classes that taught me to relax so completely that I could begin to feel this way again. In labor, I could recall this feeling, enhancing it to imagine that I was opening up to the universe.  During contractions, I visualized myself floating against a backdrop of stars, with open arms, opening up from somewhere within, to become as vast and all encompassing as the universe.  I still felt the pain of the contractions, but holding this image in my mind helped me feel that the pain was a useful means to bringing the baby closer to birth. 

After a while, Mark and I got into bed, and tried to get some rest.  I was actually able to drift off to sleep in between contractions, and they seemed to space themselves out.  Each one came on strong, but I was able to lie there and relax so completely between them that I was almost asleep.  Eventually, though, lying on my side became too painful during contractions and I had to get out of bed.

Once out of bed, Mark suggested we get into the labor tub.  We both got in, I on my knees, resting my elbows on the side of the tub, and Mark behind me, rubbing my back in between contractions (because I wouldn’t let him touch me during one at that point!) and whispering affirmations to me.  I was still so excited, and not tired at all after our “nap”.  It felt so nice to labor at home, in the warm water, with just me and Mark…it felt right, as if this was what I had been planning all along.  There was not even a thought of leaving. Thank God, because I would have hated to break the magic spell that had come over us by getting into a car and driving across town!             

I began to get feel hot, and we got out of the tub.  As soon as I stood up, I was overcome with shivering.  I felt hot, then extremely cold, and was shaking.   I knew it was time to call our doula, Sharon, because I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew that she would!  My water was not broken, and I refused to believe that I had made it to transition. The physical signs were there: I was hot and cold, and I felt some pressure on my bottom, my contractions were stronger than ever before, but I was in disbelief because everything was going so well! I hadn’t freaked out yet!  I was still coherent in between contractions, I still felt grateful for my husband’s presence, I could still laugh and think…I was absolutely not behaving the way that I had expected to behave!

When Sharon got to the house, I was on my hands and knees in the middle of the living room having a contraction.  Minutes before, I was up on the birth ball, where I lasted for about two contractions before I just needed to have my belly hang again.  She suggested I move over and lean against the couch to take my weight off of my arms, and that made such a big difference!  She asked Mark if he had had anything to eat, and offered him a break. She put on music and brought in a new energy and sense of excitement.             

Mark went into the kitchen and not only prepared something for him to eat, but started chopping and sautéing to make soup for the birth team.  Granted, it was 1:00am, but he thought this was something that needed to be done, and gracious host and chef that he is, got it done!  Meanwhile, I was back in the labor tub, with Sharon sitting in front of me.  She gave me a bath pillow to put my head on, a cold compress for my forehead, poured water over me, held my hands….whatever I needed for support.                             

Soon, much too soon for me to believe it was really happening, I began to feel the “urge” to push.  The word “urge” is so tame compared to the feeling that overcomes your body.  There is no way not to push, once your body has decided that is what it wants to do.  I looked at Sharon, and said, “I feel like pushing, but I don’t want to puh-UH-sh!” I was thinking, “There’s no way it could be time for pushing, we haven’t even called the midwife yet!” Sharon helped me breathe through the contraction, and once it was over asked me why I didn’t want to push.  I told her it was too early!  I shouldn’t be pushing yet, right? Right?  It’s funny how much I thought she could feel it, too. At this point, the whole world was laboring right along with me.  The feeling was so all-encompassing; I couldn’t possibly be the only one feeling it! (A few hours later, when I was sitting on the toilet for my post-birth pee, and she was standing in the hall, I asked her if I was still peeing.  I couldn’t tell, but obviously thought that she could!)             

We did some breathing together through the next contraction, “puh puh puhpuhpuh PUHHHHHH puh puh puh”, and Sharon called into the kitchen, “Mark! I think it’s time to call the midwife!” I could feel Mark’s excitement even in my in-between state of bliss…he called and spoke to the midwife, and then passed the phone over to Sharon, who told her I was feeling “pushy” and she should probably come over right away.             

Mark then got into the tub with me, and I remember trying some variations on the “hands and knees” theme that I was going with.  Sharon suggested at one point that I lean back into Mark and let him support me.  My answer was “No! I can’t lean back!” I had spent the last 4 months trying so hard not to lean back. I had it in my head that I could absolutely NOT lean back!  She smiled and said she thought it would probably be ok to lean back now. (I think Mark did laugh, and I even snickered a bit, but I still didn’t lean back!).             

After one or two more “pushy” contractions, Sharon asked Mark (quietly, with lots of sign language, over my head so she didn’t disturb me) if he felt anything.  He nodded, and cupped his hand as if holding water in it, and moved it up and down.  Later he said he knew it wasn’t the head, but it was definitely something.  Sharon looked me squarely in the eyes and said, “You will let us know if the baby is coming, won’t you?” I think I nodded. In my mind, I could describe right where the baby was (Oh, she’s coming, but she’s not crowning yet, I think we have quite a few more pushes before she’s really coming out,  I think I even feel her moving her head a little bit, but I can feel something way down there, it must be my bag of waters drooping out, I’ve heard that can happen, but it’s really rare, anyways, are you having fun yet?…but all I could say out loud was something like “uh huh”).             

I think at this point she started thinking that the baby was going to be born before the midwife arrived, and she must have freaked out just a little.  She decided to call again, just to make sure that the midwife was on her way.  She went into the kitchen in search of the phone number, but couldn’t find the number, and then couldn’t find the phone, and then once she found everything, she dialed and didn’t get an answer…so she considered paging, but didn’t know our phone number, and then decided that if no one answered at home, she must be on her way, and calling her again wouldn’t make her come any faster….all this, and back to me for the next contraction!             

The midwife did arrive very soon after we called her, and the first thing she did was pull out the Doppler to hear the baby’s heart rate.  I remember her saying, “Sounds like a happy baby!” and telling me to go ahead and push if that’s what I felt like doing.  I felt so relieved to have the “permission” to go ahead and do what my body was already doing!  I think my brain needed to hear that it was ok.  (Later Sharon would joke, “But you didn’t have one vaginal exam, how did you know it was time to push?”)             

Pushing was kind of fun, to be honest, because it felt productive.  Laboring is just this sort of on again/off again pain that comes and goes, and you know it’s getting you somewhere, but you don’t know how close you are, or how much longer you have….When I was pushing, I could feel the baby come down.  She would move down, and then go back up a little when the contraction was over (as she was supposed to).  I would feel her head go back up a little, and think, “Oh no you don’t!  You got this far, I’m not letting you back in!” and I would give a little push to get her to stay where she was.  This of course, was futile, and with the next contraction, she would come out a little further, and then go back in just a little bit.  It’s like a two steps forward, one step back kind of motion.  Once she was crowning, I really wanted to reach down and feel her head, but the Earth was spinning so fast at that moment, that I felt that if I let go of the side of the tub, I would go spinning off into outer space.  So I held on tight.  My head wasn’t spinning, just everything else.  Or maybe I just couldn’t get a message from my brain to my hands at that moment, I’m not sure.  At any rate, I could feel her down there, so close to coming out, that I gave one loud primal scream (that was heard from across the street by the midwife’s assistant who was still unloading the car!) and just pushed with all of the force of the contraction and everything else I had in me, and out came her head.  I remember thinking that was an odd feeling, to have a baby’s head poking out from between your legs.  At this point, my water still was not broken, so the midwife had to rupture them so that once the baby was all of the way out, it wouldn’t stick to her and she would be able to breathe.             

All I had left was her body, which I thought would be a lot easier.  What I didn’t know at the time was that her head and her chest were the same circumference, so it wasn’t that easy.  I tried pushing without a contraction, and that got me nowhere, so I just waited until the next one came along.  I think I was a little impatient, because it seemed like a long time before I felt the next wave coming on.  Once I felt it though, I gave another all out push, and she was born.  Mark caught her, and he and the midwife worked to disentangle her from the cord and get her up under me.  In the seconds after she was born, I think I did go flying off into outer space, because all of the sudden I was back in my body and looking down into the water, and there was a baby there!              

“Oh baby, you’re ok!” I said, and I scooped her up and held her against my chest.  “You’re ok, you’re ok!” I don’t know if I was talking to her or to myself, but Mark tells me that I repeated that over and over while looking at this miracle creature I was holding.  I was in a kind of awkward squat, half on Mark, half off, but I really didn’t care.  I just wanted to keep holding this baby, and make sure she was warm, and could breathe and, wow.  It was amazing that I could create, and then deliver this little bundle of life!  Amazing.             

After a few minutes, once all of the blood flowed out of the placenta and back into the baby, Mark cut the cord.  I think someone asked her name, and I said, without any hesitation, “Elia”.  Then someone asked if we had checked the sex yet, which made me giggle, because no, of course we hadn’t!  But there she was, a little girl, healthy and pink.             

Eventually we made it up and out of the tub, after the placenta was delivered, and I felt that I could stand up on my shaky knees.  I was shivering and cold, but was soon wrapped up warmly and I made it the 3 feet to the futon Mark had put down for us so many hours before. There I sat for the next hour or two, admiring this beautiful little girl, holding her so tight and falling in love with her and with my husband all over again.“Goodness” was all I could say.  And it was.

Goodness.

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