Hemenway O'Neill
When I became pregnant the second time, I had experience on my side. I no longer had to rely solely on the intellectual logic that supported birth as a normal event. I no longer had to rely soley on other women's stories of their natural childbirth experience. I no longer had to solely rely on that distant cell-memory I had surely brought with me from the experiences of my female ancestors. This time, I brought the very clear and recent memory of my son's birth with me. I had the combination of my research, stories heard, ancestoral subtleties felt, and my own experience going into this birth. It was a nice solid beginning.
I knew the moment Hemenway (aka Eme or Mimi) was conceived. I found myself taking the pregnancy test two days before my period was even due and was not surprised when it was positive. I would remain very aware of my mind/body connection during this pregnancy.
Two moves in less than two years would leave us across the country from the midwife, Maread, who had attended our homebirth with our first child. We found ourselves desperately wanting her to attend this birth, as well. She was open to the thought (actually offerred) of coming to stay with us for the time surrounding the birth. We initially planned to go this route, but would later feel there was a reason we needed to plan to have a local midwife attend the birth. We would come to find Maread acting as our midwife across all of those miles, anyway. :-)
On to the heart of it...
The pregnancy has just been a wonderful time. I enjoyed my first pregnancy as well, but there is some kind of calm that comes with a subsequent one for me.. I've never felt so healthy. It is hotter than heck because we are living in Texas, and my northern blood is not cut out for such brutal heat. My due date is in July, but I don't know how much that matters - in Houston, it feels like a heat wave from March to November to me! The heat has ended up being a blessing in one way. I spend hours in the pool with my 18 month old son, Alexander. My skin turns a splendid brown I'm not at all used to and the sun seems to breathe life into me.
We are living in an apartment complex and it is the big talk of the neighborhood that we are having a homebirth. That silly *due date* comes closer and I grow by the second. Everywhere I turn is another voice asking if I'm ever having this baby. It is only toward the end of this that I'm beginning to wonder if I'm ready for this baby. Is my son ready to give up his space as our only child? Is he ready to share his num-num's with a new baby? Am I going inviting problems by adding this new life to our family? And what if this baby is a girl? I have been unsure for most of the pregnancy, but I seem to *know* now it is indeed a girl. My relationship with my mother was not something I want to copy. I don't know how to be a mom to a girl. How awful is this all going to be?? With this swirling through my mind, we are slipping past that *due date.*
I'm not concerned with being late. I don't have much respect for the term and don't mind being pregnant a bit longer. As we near two weeks over, my local midwife, Anna, seems a bit more concerned. I call my Maread - my first midwife to get her advice. Instead of talking over the physical issues with me, she asks what this is really about. I admit my fears concerning pushing Alexander to deal with a new baby, and also being a mommie to a girl, and then realize I'm still holding out for Maread to be at the birth. (As it turns out, since I was *early* the first time, we would have scheduled Maread to be with us for two weeks before my date and a week after...in theory, she would have been gone by now, anyway.)
Maread and I talk for two hours. I feel my comfort level slipping back up. The bulk of my fears cannot be faced and dealt with until I have this baby out with us. Maread is not so concerned with my physical condition, though she suggests considering a bio-physical if we go much over two weeks. It's Thursday night and Monday would be the earliest I could schedule the bio-physical - which I do not want. We talk about natural induction methods - not something I want to do, either - I feel my body knows when to birth and there must be a reason behind this. We decide to try some herbs the following morning if there is still no sign of labor.
I go to bed feeling much lighter emotionally. I wake up at 5:30am with contractions. I get up to go to the bathroom and see if they stop with movement. They don't seem to as I move about the house alone. By 6:30am I wake Geoff to tell him they are ten minutes apart and it might be something. Since my son's labor was drawn out, I'm not counting on a quick one this time around. Xander, my son, wakes up. Geoff calls into the office.
As a complete opposite to what I did first time around, I decide we need to get out. I call Anna and tell her I'm having regular contractions, but she can go on with her day, we're going out for bagels. Anna is not so convinced she wants to stay home. I'm adament that I am not hanging out and concentrating on being in labor just yet. She tells us to call soon. We leave around 9:00am for the bagel shop. They all know our family well and we joke about being in labor. I guess they don't know us too well, because they start telling us to rush to the hospital! We laugh and tell them we're having this baby at home. They stare at us the rest of the morning. ha-ha!
We move on to the grocery store next. The contractions are strong andregular, but I am managing really comfortably. I'm sort of thinking this must be very early labor, because this seems way too easy. Funny thing is, it's not less intense than the first time around, but I am less *tense.* I'm becoming more convinced of our mental and spiritual effect on our perceptionof birth. I have to stop half-way to our car in the parking lot of the grocery store to wait for a contraction to pass. An older man comes to ask if I'm okay. I answer that I am great, just in labor. His face turns a color - not sure what color - and he moves on.
It's early afternoon and we decide maybe we should get some movies. I am a bit less comfortable, but insist to Geoff I am still okay to proceed. I don't have much input on the movie selection. I do see that Geoff has Grumpier Old Men in his hand. (If you read my son's birth story, you'll get the joke!)
It's after 2:00pm and I say it feels like it's time to go home. We get home to a few messages from Anna. We call her around 3:00pm. I still don't feel like I need her there, but she and Geoff make a deal to let her come check on things. She arrives around 3:30. I'm having to concentrate on the contractions now. I cry and wonder out loud why I do this. The consistency of this process of labor is not lost on me, even though I am in the middle of it. I know this means transition for me. I know that means a birth is coming soon, but I'm still finding it hard to believe it could happen this soon. Anna checks me - a practice I'm abandoning next time around - and says I'm at 7 or 8. It's around 5:00pm and I head upstairs to the bathtub.
I spend the next hour + in the tub. We don't have the largest tub in the world - but the water aided in my relaxation a bit. At one point my toddler comes in to give me his duckies and then decides I look like I could use some company! He isn't phased at all when I have a contraction - we have spent months preparing him for the birth and it all seems normal to him. (If we could only get the rest of our culture to see how normal it is...)
Xander is out of the tub and playing with Anna a couple of rooms away. I hear his laughter and am reminded what sweetness this work is all about. I am spending the bulk of this labor on my own and within myself. This leaves Geoff with little hands-on work. He has made the bedroom ready and seems to think this birth is relatively light compared to the physical support I needed last time.
My water breaks and I lose my mucus plug while I'm in the bath, and I feel definete pressure. This is where the birth begins to dawn on me. The pushing...oh no...not that again. I move into the bedroom and promplty announce I am not pushing this baby out. I am half joking and half serious. (To this day, I remain convinced it is not necessary during the normal course of birth to push yourself to death while birthing.) Anna doesn't seem as amused or as gentle as I imagine Maread would be at this point. Nor does she begin applying those compresses I so loved during my first birth.
Xander climbs up beside me for some pushing - helping make those gutteral noises we've practiced for the past months. His presence centers me on the mothering aspect of birth and seems to keep me from focusing on the *me* side of it. I get more vocal and he decides he'll go hang out with the neighbors for a bit.
I am pushing - whether I like it or not. I begin being sucked back into the *me-ness* of the birth. I feel my body holding on to something, but I can't tell what it is. I am certainly going through this stage against my will. Anna says she sees the head - a ton of dark hair - it's seeming more real that we will have another baby, I'm feeling the joy. Anna says one more push and the head will be out. I know from Xander's birth once the head is out, the rest of that baby just swooshes along behind it. I'm ready, afterall. I push, and the head is out. I wait for the next contraction, I push again - no swoosh. I sense something is not exactly right. I look at Geoff and Anna. Geoff is down there ready to catch the baby, he looks confused. Anna says the shoulders are stuck. We change positions a bit, but I'm still basically sitting. (If the next steps we take do not bring the birth along, there are further methods - simlpistic and gentle - we can use.) A clock begins in my head...I'm thinking of the minutes I have to get this baby out once the head is born. Anna seems calm and together, just a bit more serious than usual. Geoff seems *fine*, no better no worse. The clock goes on as my pushing gets us nowhere.
Anna looks me in the eye and says, "It's time to push your baby out, Traci." Every ounce of self-pity, or worry, or indulgence in my previous concerns regarding this baby fly away. I have one of those moments where there is complete clarity. I feel what's it's like to have the whole of something on me. There is no way I am not going to support this life coming from me. I push as Anna tucks a hand under the baby's shouler. The baby comes out into her Daddy's hands at 6:44pm. Geoff tells me it's a girl and I smile so big I feel it all over. I cry with joy as he puts her on my chest.
After that entry, she is so alert. She shows no signs of the distress we had all just felt. She looks as if her birth was exactly as it should have been. She latches on and begins nursing. She looks up and smiles. (I'll always laugh quietly when I hear someone say babies don't know how to smile at birth.) Xander comes in from the neighbor's. He stares in awe and leans over to touch his sister - Hemenway O'Neill.