It has taken me some time to really find the words to describe my daughter's birth day. It was possibly the most "real" day of my life--filled with pain, joy, anticipation, fear, and the most intense sense of love ever imagined. As I've allowed myself to collect thoughts and notes over the past few weeks, I am finally able to begin to recap the day that set our new world into motion.
I'm not sure I could call it our birthing story...perhaps our birthing experience. I feel like birthing story sounds like we're about to open a magical story book, and the day was far from rainbows and unicorns. I have wrestled with how to describe the experience realistically, relaying the major challenges and physical and mental labor--but also in a balanced light, describing why this birth ended up being worth every bit of the hardship. I suppose all I can do is write, and hope that I can do the experience justice with my words.
My back labor started Wednesday morning--you know when you get the flu and you feel achy all over? Yeah, that's about what it felt like. It was accompanied by "practice contractions" or Braxton Hicks...which, I later learned feel nothing like real contractions. Although I chalked everything up to normal "home-stretch" pregnancy symptoms, I woke up feeling like something was different that day. I started preparing my room, or my birthing space--I felt really focused, & I wanted my home to embody a sense of calmness. I didn't sleep well Wednesday night due to the back labor and started sporadic contractions on Thursday, although I wasn't sure what they were at first. They felt like strong menstrual cramps in my lower abdomen, opposed to the Braxton Hicks that felt like my overall stomach was tightening up. By 3:45p that afternoon, I started timing these "cramps" under the assumption that if they started forming a pattern, it was most likely early labor. A little after 4:00 p.m. they were 5-10 minutes apart, 25-30 seconds long. I gave my close friend Meredith a call, who we had also planned on playing a doula-role during the birth. She told me she would head over after dinner, and to go ahead and give my midwife a heads up that early labor was beginning.
Over the next few hours, Dustin and I ate dinner, had a glass of wine, and took a walk in the neighborhood. I wasn't by any means "comfortable" during the contractions, but I felt normal in between them, and they were manageable. My mom came by around 9:30 p.m., Meredith and Chad followed her and arrived around 10:00. By then the contractions started picking up and were a bit more painful--by then I couldn't "carry on with my night." It was all I could do to focus getting through each one. I would stay in one position for a few rounds, and then switch to something new--walking, side-lying, on hands and knees, elbows on bed/chair, sitting on the yoga ball. Meredith and my mom kept their hands on my lower back to give counter pressure during each one--that helped immensely.
By 2:00 or 3:00 a.m., my contractions had picked up to over a minute long with around 4 minutes in between. It was time to call the midwife. Note with a home birth--it was extremely helpful to have Meredith and my mom stay with me through the early stages of labor. Since Dustin had been up since 6:00 a.m. that morning with a full day of work, he was low on energy, and it was nice for him to be able to get a few hours of sleep. I would say with the long period of early labor, it would have been hard for him to be my sole supporter. Between Dustin, Meredith and my mom--they were able to rotate supporting me and get some individual rest.
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| Birthing tub: My mom supporting my back. |
Margaret, our midwife arrived in the a.m. hours while we inflated and filled the birthing tub. Labor continued, and by this point, I wasn't getting much of a break in between contractions. It was hard and wearing, but I felt like we were making progress as the each contraction started getting harder and longer. Not long after Margaret arrived, I stepped in the birthing pool, the water helped take pressure of my hips and knees. Since I was partial to laboring on my knees with my elbows up on the bed, the pressure on the joints began to be painful alone. As I began laboring in the tub, I hit a spiritual and emotional milestone realizing that we were closer than ever before to meeting our newborn daughter. Adrenaline shot through my body as my arms and legs shivered. For a short while, there was no pain.
The moment didn't last as long as hoped for, and instead of moving forward with labor, my contractions began to slow down. Although it provided more rest, I felt like a machine slowly dying...shutting down involuntarily with disappointment. After 14-hours of labor, with my birthing team supporting me every step of the way, we all experienced a lull in progress--I felt set back. The sun was rising, and I made my way out of the tub. Margaret checked me, I was only dilated to a three. In the grande scheme of things, a ten is where I needed to be to deliver.
Margaret let me know there wasn't much more that she could do at that point, and she was going to head home to get some sleep. "Try to get some rest and call me when you're up and around. This is really normal," she said. Despite her words, I was frustrated and felt mentally defeated. I had been working so hard for such long hours, and I was exhausted in every way. Meredith reassured me that I wouldn't have to start over again with the labor, and everything I went through helped move the baby into position. She was kind and loving, and although I knew she was telling me the truth, it didn't feel like progress.
I took two Benadryl and tried to "rest" for a couple hours. Although, my mom and I later concluded "rest" was not the right word. I was still contracting, and with your body still working hard, it was impossible to sleep or rest. Maybe "regroup" or "attempting to relax" more accurately describes that Friday morning period. But overall, I hadn't gotten any sign of sleep since Wednesday night.
Contractions started picking up again by late morning, and my birthing team was back into the swing of helping me manage them. This felt like a second round, and my moral had lowered quite a bit. Each hour began getting harder and harder to get through. By lunchtime, we called Margaret again and she came back over. The afternoon seemed never ending. I kept changing positions on the floor, shower, even sitting on the toilet. (Interestingly enough, it's a place where your body is used to relaxing.) As the labor continued, and pain intensified, I began wondering how much longer I could continue--I started feeling more and more mentally defeated and physically exhausted. My last real meal had been Thursday early evening. Meredith kept Gatorade, water and small bites coming to help me fight against clinical exhaustion. I was feeling tortured, like the contractions would never end, and I felt I wasn't making progress. Thoughts of epidurals and C-sections began sounding magical--anything to save me from the labor process.
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| Dustin helping me through contractions. |
So at this point, I will say what held me true to my birthing plan, to deliver naturally, was the fact I was at home. After over 20-hours of labor, I was vulnerable to grab at any "solution" a hospital would have offered. But with that said, people will say there's "no such thing as a birth plan," and I am testimony to prove that statement wrong. I had a birth plan--to deliver naturally at home, and after everything is said and done, I followed my birthing plan. It wasn't easy. There were many times I wanted to give up, but my birth plan was executed just the way I hoped. I have several friends who either delivered naturally at a hospital, or at home, and all of them followed through with their birth plan also. It
is possible, and if you're an expecting mom wanting to deliver naturally, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
On this note, I will also mention that at no point was I ever worried about my individual health or safety, or the health or safety of my baby. I say this because the main question you get when mentioning a home birth is, "What is your back up plan?" This usually translates into, "You're crazy, isn't a home birth dangerous?!" Without going into the home birth safety statistics (which are high, I might add), in my experience,
nothing about my birthing day felt dangerous. It was my body going through a process that it was built to do. And if that isn't enough, my mom was present for 90% of the labor, and the entire delivery--she was one of my biggest home birth skeptics of them all. There wasn't one point in time where she suggested a transfer.
As I approached late afternoon on Friday, the next few hours were a series of feeling mentally and physically beaten down, and then figuring out ways to continuously regroup. I got in the shower, changed labor positions, went through a favorite music playlist twice to help keep my spirits up. I again got back into the birthing tub and was dilated at a seven, Margaret reassured me we were getting closer. Dustin washed up preparing to catch our baby if I were to deliver in the tub, but once again my contractions slowed a bit after I got in the water. It was at this stage I realized I had reached a mental block--I felt scared to move into the delivery phase, I was scared to push. I asked for a moment alone, and stared out my back window. I din't know how to move forward, I was overwhelmed and afraid. Margaret came in the room and helped talk me through some of the things I was feeling. She reassured me my body would know what to do, but I still didn't feel confident. I got out of the water once again, and tried to regroup, Margaret checked to see where I was with dilation. I was still around a seven, and by this time it was approaching 5:00 p.m. I found myself at my very lowest emotionally and mentally, I told Margaret I just wanted a resolution--I didn't know how much longer I could go. I was sobbing on my bed, I felt completely and utterly defeated.
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| Birthing tub: Dustin preparing for Lelu. |
It at this 25-hour mark of labor that we had the "transfer talk". I didn't want to go to the hospital, but I wanted a light at the end of the tunnel--I wanted an ending point. I didn't feel like this labor would ever be over, tears were streaming from my face as I lied on my bed feeling helpless. Margaret rationally explained to me that if we were to transfer, it could still be hours to get admitted, lab work, etc. My sobbing continued as I tried to verbalize my feelings of utter defeat. It was right at this moment I felt something come out of me, I had no idea what it was. "Your water just broke!" Margaret said immediately, "This is a good sign!" It was divine timing--my water broke right when I had given up.
"I have one hour left in me," I said to Margaret, "I can do one hour." Margaret suggested I get on the birthing stool--basically PVS piping shaped similar to a toilet, definitely not geared towards comfort. But in these final stages of labor, I wasn't opening my hips and legs the way I needed to give birth, it felt uncomfortable and awkward dished on top of excruciating pain. But I got on the stool with Dustin sitting behind me on the bed, holding up my exhausted body. My mom was keeping my right leg open while Meredith had the left. Margaret was in front of me prepared to catch the baby. By this time I mentally had checked out, I felt like a beaten animal with little life left in me. But I
did have life left in me--it was my daughter, and my body began going into delivery mode.
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| Birthing stool: My mom holding my leg. |
Pushing was tricky and foreign to me, and Meredith and Margaret kept coaching me through it. I didn't want to stay in position, and my birthing team was doing everything they could to hold me in place. I was screaming at the top of my lungs with each contraction and my breath was panicked. I was facing our huge window facing out the back door, I felt stuck--I couldn't go backward, but I couldn't figure out how to move forward. I looked out at the sky and wished I was a bird flying away, I just wanted out of it. I didn't even know
where it hurt anymore, the pain was all over.
My cousin, Amy, had come in during these last phases with the reinforcement of an army. My mom was hypervinilating while holding my leg, Dustin was close to passing out while trying to hold my body weight, his ear close to my screams. Amy instructed my mom to breathe and forced Dustin to drink water. At this time, my baby was moving down and I kept on pushing as the intensity grew in everyone's voices. They were cheering me on, coaching me, reiterating that I was close--that her head was in sight.
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| My birthing team. |
Somewhere in the midst of the intense pain, exhaustion & frustration, a deep wave of determination took over my body, and those final pushes emerged somewhere from my limp body. I didn't have a choice, I
had to push my baby out. There was a burn with each try, I had to keep going...more burning...and after several rounds...a sense of warmth passed through me! Warmth, beauty, life! My daughter was born, and in that moment, all the pain had vanished. She was placed immediately on my belly and the first thing I saw was her big eyes looking up at me. It was then and there I knew every second of labor, tears, and pain had been worth it. She was all worth it.
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| Birth moment! |
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| Lelu on my belly... |
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| Meredith with a blanket. |
All in all, maybe I overestimated myself through all of my yoga and Krav Maga training, but I realized that I wasn't prepared for the labor involved with a natural birth. I wasn't prepared to feel like it would be impossible. I wasn't prepared to feel like giving up. But in the end it's okay, because it's pretty amazing to be able to have successfully come through a home birth without understanding the full intensity to begin with. And perhaps we're not really supposed to know what the birthing experience will be like until we're there. It was part of my birthing story that I
had to give up, surrender mentally, to let the physical take over. As a believer in the mind-body connection, I think I had planned to "will my baby out". But natural birth is truly out of your control, and I had to eventually let go of any shred of control I was holding onto and let my body go through the natural process.
The truth is people say women forget the pain of childbirth, and I can second that saying my pain is already a distant memory. It was
only 26-hours of my life, and worth all of the benefits. My daughter was alert, aware, and well-adjusted. I brought her into our warm home instead of a cold hospital. I was surrounded by loving, familiar people instead of strangers. I had no unnecessary intervention during a completely natural process. And after this natural delivery, the aches of post birth recovery seem minute. This was what I had hoped for my childbirth, and am blessed that my birth plan panned out according to my vision. But no matter what way a woman chooses to give birth, I believe she possesses an immeasurable strength--capabilities gifted straight from God.
The bonds I came away with that day were stronger than I could have ever imagined: my husband and I gained a whole new level of intimacy and love, my mother and I gained an incredible closeness, I found a new friend in Margaret and built a strong lasting connection with one of my dearest friends, Meredith. I could not have done it without my birthing team. Therefore, through all of this, I can confidently say I would do it the same way again. I believe it was the most spirit-building for me as an individual, and the best way for me to bring my daughter into the world.
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| My amazing husband. |
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| My loving mama. |
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| Mom, me, Mer and Lelu. |
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| My cousin Amy, Lelu's Godmother. |
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| Dustin and my mom. |
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| My midwife Margaret weighing Lelu. |
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| Newborn exam. |
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| Our family. |
In conclusion, I heard a phrase not long before I delivered, "No mud, no lotus." The beautiful lotus flower grows and blooms within mud. Within the grittiest of circumstances, beauty emerges. June 21st and June 22nd were the hardest, most raw days of my life, and from that came the most beautiful thing I have ever seen: Easley Lu Faye "Lelu" Maynord born June 22nd at 6:08p / 6 lbs. 12 oz. / 21 inches.
