SM - Birth Stories

A waterbirth at home with a Midwife.
By: Mom

     Almost as soon as I realized that I was pregnant with my second baby, I began thinking about where I would give birth. My first baby was born in a hospital, which was overall a good experience, and I was able to birth naturally. But I dreaded the car ride to the hospital, answering the nurse’s questions, and the feeling of having to protect myself and my baby from routine hospital procedures. I started asking questions about homebirth, and while I wasn’t convinced that homebirth was right for me, I started seeing a midwife and hoped that as I learned more, I would feel more confident with having my baby at home.

     I tended to worry a lot during this pregnancy. First, about miscarriage, as I had previously lost a pregnancy at 12 weeks. Then, about his position. He was posterior, despite my efforts to help him turn before labor started. But talking to my midwife and other women who had birthed at home helped me feel more at ease about all of my concerns, and as the time drew near, I knew that this birth would happen exactly as a should, and my job was to let go of worry or doubt, and allow my body and my baby to do their work.

     On Thursday, March 1st, around 1:30 a.m., I realized I was having light but regular contractions. I went into my daughter’s room, where my husband was sleeping, and told him that I thought we should start setting up the birth tub. It would take a couple of hours to fill with enough hot water, and I really wanted to labor and birth in the water this time. While he got to work setting up the tub in the living room, I walked around the house, cleaning up and setting things up just the way I wanted them. My contractions didn’t grow much stronger, and stayed around 10 – 20 min. apart, but I was grateful for this time in the wee hours of the night to prepare myself and my house for this birth. During contractions I leaned on whatever was sturdy and nearby, sometimes dropping to all fours. I put in Putumayo’s Dreamland cd and lit the candles on my birth altar, which had been made for me at my Mother Blessing a few weeks prior. I recognized that these were the last hours of this pregnancy and rubbed my huge belly, danced with it, and took some pictures. 6:00 a.m. rolled around and my daughter (2 yrs., 7 mo.) woke up. We told her that Mommy’s belly was squeezing and our baby would be coming out soon. But my contractions were still far apart, and still weren’t very strong, so we called my dad to take her to his house so that my husband and I could get some rest.

     I was able to doze off between contractions, but I found that waking to a contraction was difficult, and I wanted to move around. So we got up and ate something and made some phone calls. We took a walk around the neighborhood. Around 1:00 p.m. my daughter came back home and my husband lay down with her for her nap. My contractions began to get stronger, much sharper, and I wondered why they still weren’t getting closer together. I called my midwife for reassurance. A contraction came while I had her on the phone, and afterward I couldn’t help but cry. “They’re really strong, but only coming every 10 min. or so, is that normal?” She suggested taking some liquid calcium magnesium and getting in the tub. I did. It was about 2:30 p.m. And that’s when things picked up.

     Being immersed in the water felt amazing. When my daughter woke from her nap she took off her clothes and diaper and got in with me. She asked to hold my hands and we did until the next contraction came. She laughed at me while I moaned and said, “Mommy, you sound wike a baby.” Then she peed and wanted to get out.

     Around 3:00 p.m. we started calling our women. My mom, mother-in-law (who would be driving from Cleveland), sister, doula, and midwife. I still wasn’t sure that things would pick up anytime soon, but they were strong enough that I needed some support and wanted my daughter to be entertained by someone other than my husband and I. By 4:20 p.m. everyone except my mother-in-law had arrived. My moans became louder and my contractions got a little closer together, about 5-8 minutes apart. I could feel baby kicking and moving inside me, and shared this with my midwife. Still, I wanted her to check his heartbeat and she did. “He’s loving this!” she said. His heartbeat was just fine. Every once in a while my daughter said that she needed to check on Mommy and she came into the living room and stuck her hand in the water. “I jus chetting to see if it too hot for you, Mommy…(puts hand in water)…It not too hot.” Then more giggling after a contraction. One time the giggling really got on my nerves and I asked her to please be quiet. I think it was then that my sister or doula took her down to the basement to play.

     Someone put in the Dreamland cd and I was grateful. The soothing music and the sounds of cooking and quiet conversation coming from the kitchen were very comforting. The lights in the house were dim and a thunderstorm started brewing outside. I felt love in our home, protection from the water around me, and trust in my body. My contractions started getting very difficult and I started to dread the onset of each one. “Oh no…no no no” I started saying as I felt the next one creep up. I wanted someone else to take over for me. I needed them to stop, but they just kept coming. Faster and stronger. Pounding, twisting, tightening my body. I tried to relax but it only seemed to hurt more. Releasing the pain through my voice was all that seemed to help. No more, I thought, I was starting to feel so tired from this labor. And suddenly, an urge to push that couldn’t be ignored. Without thinking, my moans became more high-pitched. Sometimes it sounded more like singing, and there were times when my own voice surprised me. Instinctively I held my breath to bear down. This had been the hardest part of my daughter’s birth and I wanted it to be different this time. After proclaiming several times that I couldn’t do it, that I needed help, I stopped myself and changed my approach. “I’m ok, I can do it,” I said to the room. As I felt Leo’s head stretching me out and then pulling back in I reminded myself that this was good, that this would help me not to tear, that I didn’t need to send him flying out of me. My daughter, mother, sister, doula, midwife, her apprentice, and husband were all in the room now, surrounding the tub. Just a few more pushes and his head was almost out. “I see a fist,” my midwife said. “He’s holding his cord.” And then she said, “Now he’s holding my finger.” Another push and I could tell his head was out. One more and his shoulders wiggled out followed by a soft, slippery body. Since I was floating on my belly in the water, my baby was behind me and I couldn’t see him. “Where’s my baby?” I asked, and picked myself up to a kneeling position. My midwife gently swooshed him between my legs and there he was under the water, looking up at me. I looked for a moment at my baby and made a point to never forget that image of him under the water, looking up at me. Then I scooped him up and held him near my breast. He was looking at me and squirming a little, but wasn’t breathing. “Hi Leo,” I cried, “Hi baby…you can breath now…can you breath?...come on Leo, breath now,” I said as I rubbed his chest a little. My midwife dropped some homeopathic tablets onto his neck, probably not because he needed them but because she knew I needed her to do something. He took a breath, then another one, and another, and only then could I relax and really take in my new baby. He was perfect, dark wet hair covered his head. I was so glad he was here. I took a breath and felt thankful. He was finally here, safe and healthy and beautiful. I had done it, we had done it together.

     A while later, when we had finally settled in bed, my husband, sister, and I sang a song to Leo to welcome him to the world.