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My Butter Birth: A lesson in living in the moment

2.5 weeks. 2.5 weeks since Rosalie Helene joined our family and already it feels like an eternity has gone by. And since time seems to be passing so quickly (she doesn't even seem to be a newborn anymore!), I feel compelled to write her birth story before I forget it all. For memories' sake, that's why I'm going to write it- because I don't feel compelled to shout it from the rooftops like I did with my other births. The reason? I'm not sure, but I have a feeling it's because this has been my most satisfying birth experience yet. Maybe the most satisfying isn't the right way to put it because my first two births were also extremely satisfying and victorious. But this one... When I think of this birth, the words that come to mind are:
Warm.
Centered.
Supported.
Healing.
Not healing from past birth trauma so much as healing from plain ol' LIFE junk. For once, I allowed myself to speak MY needs and wants and allowed others to take care of me and fulfill those needs and wants. I allowed myself to be the diva, so to speak, and not feel guilty and selfish about it.
There was a lot about this pregnancy and birth that was very mental.
For one thing, the sheer intensity of the transition stages of my first two labors caught me off guard and completely took my breath away both times. Even though those feelings of agony and helplessness and like I just wanted to be put out of my misery lasted for only an hour or so--really, the worst of it only 15 minutes or so--I will now fully admit to being terrified of going through it again. The memories of that stage were in the back of my mind any time I thought about giving birth to this third child. I was perfectly happy to be 6 or 7 months pregnant forever, obviously pregnant and glowing, but not yet uncomfortable, and certainly not in labor.
I admitted this fear of giving birth--well, not giving birth so much as the intensity and the vulnerability that intensity drove me to--to myself and to a very few select others, because I knew I had to justify myself with the process SOMEHOW because, one way or another, it was going to happen, and the only way I knew how to make it ok was to acknowledge the fear. Let me say, it wasn't just this terrible thing called "natural, unmedicated childbirth" and transition stage labor that I didn't want to face. I didn't want to give birth at all. I didn't want an epidural (I've seen one put in, along with the accompanying bladder catheter and, noooooo way, no how, not if I can help it). I didn't want a c-section. I think I was mostly just tired and didn't want to think about any discomfort at all. And birth, no matter how one goes about it, is very rarely completely without discomfort, either during or after. I wanted nothing to do with it.
Yeah, I know, me, a birth junkie working on her certification as a labor doula, having these thoughts. Dreading the pain, not CARING about the chance to experience the empowerment again.
You would think that my biggest fear would be mothering 3 young children, but it really wasn't and still isn't (of course, I've had wonderful help the last few weeks and have yet to face the reality of caring for them all by myself yet- perhaps ignorance is bliss).
Oh, and let's not forget the part where I was very curious to see how my third labor would go. First labors are supposed to be slow (#1 was 26 hours, 7 hours hard labor), second labors (#2 was 25 hours, but only 2 hours of hard labor), and third births are unpredictable. Having that thought hanging over my head kinda psyched me out. Would I have a precipitous birth, to make up for my other lengthy labors? Or maybe something drastically wrong would happen! All I could hope for was the "easy" birth that I heard so many mothers say their third births were. In midwife speak, a "butter birth." But I did manage to drive myself a little nuts with this line of thought.
Anyways, so enough reflection and on to the actual story.
Oh, in talking about how mental this pregnancy and birth was, did I mention the part where she decided to wait to come out until 11 days after her EDD? Yeah, talk about mental. Especially since her older sister came 2 days before her EDD, so I was hoping for something similar again, even though I'd gone 41+ weeks with their big brother. But it was probably for the best. Nothing like going post dates (ahem, "post dates," not "overdue." According to the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, you're not "overdue" until after 42 weeks of gestation. *steps off soapbox*) to help one get over their dread of labor and wishing for it to happen! Now my anxiety switched from labor to the thought of choices were we faced with if this pregnancy continued to 42 weeks. Did I stay the path and continue to trust that she would come when she was ready? Consider the possible risks of post term birth and still trust, but introduce further monitoring, "just in case?" Transfer care from my home birth midwife to my backup doctor for induction?
Yeah, I'm type-A and I like to know how things are going to go and how to go about things in the best way possible.
Rosie's due date was Wednesday, November 20th. I tried to take it a day at a time, but once I got to 41 weeks, I decided that if nothing was happening by then, I would call my backup doctor on Friday (41+2) and set up an appointment for a non-stress test and possible bio-physical profile sometime during the next week. This gave me some peace and the Thanksgiving holiday ensured that I couldn't go back on my decision and call in before Friday. Of course, when I called in Friday, both my doctor and her nurse were still out for the holiday and I couldn't get an appointment. So, that was that. I took this as a sign that I was supposed to trust and be patient until Monday (it would have been Monday before I could get in anyways), at least.
Friday I spent the day riding on the semi with Nate, back and forth to the field, hauling corn. I figured the bouncing and jouncing around couldn't hurt anything and I always look forward to riding with my hubby. So that's what I did and nothing beyond a few contractions and seriously aching back and pelvis happened.
Friends had invited us over for supper and games that evening and it was nice to have plans for once, even though I was really hoping we couldn't make it. But we did and we had fun and it was a great distraction, just like I knew it would be. Marla, my friend, thought the baby would come on Sunday and I was hoping to prove her wrong and give birth on Saturday, the following day.
Well, we were both kinda right: I was awakened at 4 AM or so with a good contraction. I got up and went to the bathroom, noting the contraction, but not getting my hopes up because I'd already had LOTS of "good" contractions with this pregnancy- so good that I'd already been in early labor with my first 2 babies before I'd ever felt anything similar.
Went back to sleep and woke up at 5:30 with another good contraction. Hmmm, ok, interesting, maaaaaybe, but I'm still not getting my hopes up. But after several more similar contractions, I decided to start timing, "just to see." At that point, they were coming every 7-10 minutes and 40-45 seconds long. Not too shabby. I didn't want to jinx it though (I'm weirdly suspicious like that), so didn't say anything to Nate for awhile. I hoped they would progress quickly and that we'd have a baby by evening, but I wasn't really feeling like that would actually happen. I think I got up around 8, figuring that if this was the real thing, the best thing to do would be to get upright and move around, to try and get things to hurry up.
But that's not really what happened. I did steps. I bounced on my exercise ball. I used my breast pump. I bounced and pumped at the same time. The pumping did bring the contractions on faster and stronger, the duration went down- contractions every 5 minutes, but only maxing out at 35 seconds. Lame. I called the midwife to let her know what was up, but told her not to come yet because I wasn't positive it was the real thing yet and I WAS pretty positive nothing was happening fast.
So I bounced and watched the University of Michigan vs. Ohio State University play their annual rivalry game (GO BLUE!). It was a good game to watch (one of the very few football games I make a point to see all season long), even though Michigan lost.
Around noon, my good friend Erin came over, even though I told her we were still in the early stages. I was glad she came though because, while I didn't want to be a pain and make people hang out with me, I knew that if I had a long early labor again, I WANTED friends to come over and hang out and keep me distracted from how long it was taking. She arrived with wine, which is, I think, Erin's most favorite way to arrive, and we had a glass and chatted and looked through the Ikea catalog and cookbooks and it was nice. Even though I didn't sit down the entire time because contractions were still not really progressing and I did NOT want to hinder gravity. We went out and walked a few times. Our friend Angie joined us. Contractions got stronger and closer together. I was having a hard time talking through them. I called the midwife, deciding that I was ok with her setting out on the 5-hour trek, I was pretty sure this was going to happen. If not today, SOMETIME within the next few days.
Contractions spaced out and got weaker. Lame. But it was ok because Erin and Angie had a family Thanksgiving gathering to attend that evening, so, since there wasn't much happening yet, they left for a few hours.
They left and I kicked into full-on nesting mode. Nate had blown up the birth pool during the afternoon, but we still didn't have all of our supplies gathered up or the birth space fully prepared. So we hung white Christmas lights, set up candles, moved furniture, should have wiped down cobwebs too, but I didn't notice them until I was much deeper in labor.
Nate stoked the woodstove up and the basement (the Birthing Cave) was super toasty and warm while I knelt and hung over my birth ball to relieve the weariness in my back from being on my feet all day. Gabe and Desi rubbed my back with massage tools from my doula bag and it was a special little time as bedtime approached and our time of a family of four neared an end.
Around 9, Paulette, the midwife, arrived, and shortly after Angie and Erin came back, bringing with them our other friend Colleen, whom I'd asked to take photos.
In the warmth and the dim light of the twinkle lights and candles, we all sat around and chatted about cool birthy things for several hours. It was amazing. Erin commented on the atmosphere as "being very womb-like." Now I can't picture that time and space without hearing that phrase again.
My contractions were getting more intense, but not much closer together than they'd averaged all day long and while this was all very nice, I was getting a bit discouraged that everyone was here now, late on a Saturday night, and nothing much seemed to be happening. I knew everyone wanted to be there, but it was that old fear of selfishness and having other people thinking I was selfish to ask this of my friends. And that they would feel obligated to stay.
Around 11, I voiced my discouragement and Paulette suggested another glass of wine and that I lay down and try to sleep, that at this point I had probably worn myself out and my body needed a little rest. My mind probably needed the rest too.
So I had the wine and curled up on the couch and everyone else scattered around the house to rest their own eyes.
Apparently I was snoring sometime in there, so I must have slept halfway decent. I woke up about 2 and went to the bathroom. After that, I was still sleepy enough to sleep between contractions, but no longer through them. Somewhere in there Nate got up and sat next to the couch in a chair and held my hand and that was nice. I began having to vocalize through these contractions and the thought that this was soon going to get much, much harder threatened to psych me out, but this is where I began to remind myself to only focus on contraction at a time, to surrender to it, and to THANK JESUS because this was the real thing and this is what I'd been hoping for the last 11 days!!!!
I don't know what time it was when I decided to get off the couch, 2:30 or so, but the beginning of the contractions were catching me off guard as I snoozed between them and I was feeling like I was as rested as I was going to get, so getting up would be so much nicer for working through them.
Everyone seemed to get the signal and were gathered back in the basement before long again, I think because I was vocalizing. Angie had left when everyone went to nap a few hours earlier and that was a bummer, but I knew there was church stuff she had to be at on Sunday morning and I was glad she felt she could leave without guilt, and was glad for the time she'd been able to be there at all.
So this was for sure active labor, the contractions finally coming faster and stronger, but I was so happy and so secure and as ready as I was going to be. Through contractions my mantra was, "Let it go, let it go." Let the contraction come and go as it pleased, let any tension go (do you know how tight we as a culture hold our bottom parts?!). I moaned and vocalized through them, speaking out my fears when they came to mind, not caring that anyone heard, not letting myself care if anyone thought I was weak or not. It was really such a nice time. My water hadn't broken yet, so I was still very with it and holding conversations between contractions. There was often someone stroking my arm or rubbing my neck. To me, there's something extremely comforting and relaxing about another woman's touch during labor. Not that my husband is a bad labor partner, but I believe wholeheartedly in the sisterhood of birthing and motherhood and womanhood and this is what I had pictured for this labor, hardly daring to hope that it could happen, that I would be surrounded like this, but it did happen and it was amazing and beautiful.
I had wanted to save the birth pool for the very end, banking on the endorphin rush triggered by the warm water to help me through the hardest part and I ended up getting around 5 AM, as I was beginning to feel like I really didn't want to do this anymore and slightly dreading each contraction. Again, something I spoke aloud and reminded myself to focus only on THIS contraction. Not how much they were hurting and how much more they were going to hurt or how many more I would have to get through.
The pool was pretty much beyond words. Oh. My. Gosh. Felt so, so good. I'm really glad I got the biggest, deepest pool available and got the full benefit of feeling weightless. Moving around and changing positions was so easy, not to mention the lovely and relaxing qualities of the warm water.
At this point, I was feeling shaky and "out of body," like I needed grounding. Erin just held my hand and someone else's steady touch was exactly what I needed. Eventually it was Nate holding my hands and I'll always remembered how he kissed the back of them somewhere along the line. I could still talk between contractions, but I mostly preferred to rest against the side of the pool and relax instead. With the warm water and my hubby holding my hands and my midwife applying counter pressure to my back during the contractions, they were intense, but so manageable. The water was so relaxing that I actually nodded off between contractions a few times. Paulette mentioned that I might be fully dilated and I commented that I'd never experience the "rest and be thankful" stage before. I had a hard time believing that this is what it could be since I didn't really feel like I'd been through transition yet. Alas, it was not to be and the contractions, while a little spaced apart, were getting pretty intense.
Around 7 AM, after 2 hours in the pool (the extra endorphins from the pool wear off after about 2 hours), I was feeling a tiny little bit pushy and I grunted against the feeling a bit, hoping that maybe I just had a lip of cervix left and the feeling would turn into a full-blown pushing contraction like it had with my other labors. But it didn't and Paulette asked to check my dilation. It was the first time I'd had an internal check during my entire pregnancy and labor thus far. However, when she told me that I was at 8.5 cm. and not quite ready to push, it threw me into the mental part of transition and I began to whine about how I didn't want to do this anymore, all the while praying aloud for strength and telling myself to "Let it go, let it go." Along with LOTS of loud moaning. Lol, it was awesome.
Paulette suggested I get out of the pool and walk around a bit because being in the water had relaxed me so much the contractions had slowed down.
Of course, this is somewhat of a blue, but I feel like I was still fairly cognizant and aware, compared to my first two labors. Of course, I had the comfort if knowing that this really WOULD be over soon.
I got out of the pool and the contractions really started to slam in, hard and right on top of each other. I really only walked a few steps and then had to hang on Nate and swing my lower body around to work through the next contraction and then there was no more walking because they were coming too fast. I looked down at the braided rug on the floor and the thought occurred to me that my water was going to break onto that rug and I hoped amniotic fluid wouldn't stink too much when it dried. Baha. Right about that time, Paulette asked for a chux pad for me to stand on so my water wouldn't break all over the rug. I hadn't verbalized what I'd been thinking, but she sensed the same thing I had and with the next contraction, my water burst, all nice and clear, all over the chux. At that point, she wanted to check me again so she could clear me to get back into the pool for pushing. I laid down on the couch and she said there was still a lip and she was going to massage it away. I yelled with the next contraction because the feeling of fingers on cervix was probably the most painful part of the whole labor. But then, and I have no idea how, but I managed to breathe through the next couple of contractions without making noise, until she told me the lip was gone. I had pushed a little bit with the last contraction and more with the next, when she told me the lip was gone and, BAM! There was a head in my vag. Paulette told me I could get back in the pool for the birth, but I told her I didn't care if I had a water birth or not, I wanted the pool for laboring in and that was over, so let's just do this here and now!
Pushing didn't feel quite as primal and instinctual and good this time as it did with my others, but I didn't care. I could feel where and how to push and that's all that mattered. The others told me I only pushed twice before she was born, but it felt like more. I just know that I asked if I was crowning and they said I was, but when I relaxed my pelvic floor and pushed again the stinging didn't stop! Of course, thanks to this baby girl's 14 in. head that didn't really have a chance to mold on it's quick trip through the birth canal. And then, what the heck, I could feel the head come out, but the rest of the body didn't just come sliding out like my other babies did and Paulette was telling me I had to push the shoulders out- WHAAAAAA?! But I did and THEN there was that warm, blissful, gooey, sloshing feeling of the rest of the body sliding out. And I said right there and then, "That's the best feeling in world!" I'm not sure if I meant the baby being placed on my chest or the pressure and pain stopping so instantly.
Of course, third baby and all, the pain wasn't over yet. By the time it was all over, I was so tired it was all I could do to focus through the afterpains and stay upright. That's where everything kind of blurs again, thanks to the afterpains that are a bitch. We found out she was a rosy little girl, with big hands and a big head and broad shoulders and chest (kinda like her mama) and the placenta came and I got cleaned up and she was weighed and measured and before we knew it, everyone was gone and I could sleep! And that was glorious, all cozy and clean in that warm basement, with my brand new baby. And then I had the hormonal post-birth sweats and I didn't feel so clean anymore, lol.
I could go about how marvelous this birth was and how I'm pretty sure it was my easiest birth, but I'm not sure if that's really if it was or because that's how my perception of it is thanks to the support and comfort I had. But I think I've just given myself carpal tunnel from typing this all out on my phone, so I'll stop now. Congrats if you got the whole through this! I'll add photos soon!