Maggie Cate

Suffice it to say this was my dream birth.  Well, it exceeded the dream birth I had planned, because there was no way I could have known - or dreamed - the joy this birth would bring me, since I had not had a birth on this level before.

We approached our third birth thinking perhaps an unattended birth was the option for us.  I had an intense need to do this birth as much as I could on my own.  We had moved back within a comfortable distance of our first midwife (and now dear friend) who had been with us for our son's birth.  I called her to talk it over.  She gave us her support for whatever birth we planned, and therein began our birth meditation.  A meditation that would last the full 40+ weeks of our pregnancy, and one that would reveal the answers to us only at the actual time of the birth.

We conceived this baby in the summer of 1998 and began prenatal care with Tona.  The prenatals seemed to be a guise for getting together and catching up for a few hours, getting a great massage from Tona's oldest daughter, and having our kids thrilled to be read to and wrestled with by both of her girls.

There was very little of a clinical nature to our appointments, instead there was extended talk of what we didn't want.  We didn't want massive prenatal testing - hardly any at all save a blood pressure check here and there and self-testing of my urine.  There would be listening for heart tones with a fetoscope that could be enjoyed by all, including the kids.  There would be no Doppler.  There would be palpitation of my uterus checking for position. There would be a hematocrit check toward the end that I would request.  There would not be any vaginal exams - ever.  There would be no heart tone monitoring of the baby during the birth unless deemed necessary by me and Tona.  In fact, we still hadn't decided if we wanted anyone else there for the birth except for our immediate family.  If Tona did come, we still hadn't decided if we wanted her in the other room, or there with us.  We continued to talk about this throughout our prenatals.  We understood this is not some standard of care she would facilitate for everyone.  And in fact, this would all be very different from the care I demanded with the birth of our son four years earlier.  This was just an example of how no two families need the same care for birthing, and even the same family does not need the same care for every birth.

This need to take complete responsibility for the birth was coming from our unease with the issues from our second birth.  I felt as if I were making Tona unduly pay the price for the some minor control that had been taken away from us before by a different midwife, but she didn't take it personally - and in fact, understood quite clearly what we needed.  And by the end of the pregnancy, there was a general feeling that we would have the birth attended by Tona and the student midwife observing with her, Caraway.

Around the sixth month of the pregnancy, I felt a calling to have a waterbirth.  I couldn't say at the time where this came from.  Yes, I feel very at ease in water.  Yes, I thought it would be comfortable to birth in water.  But I couldn't put my finger on why I felt I needed a waterbirth so badly all of the sudden.  Even so, I was determined.

Having gone nearly 42 weeks with our second pregnancy, I wasn't looking at that 40 week mark as anything but another day on the calendar.  Sure enough, it came and went.  I had my other babies on Fridays and thought that was a nice day to birth a baby.  Friday came and went.  I had given birth to my second baby at around 6:44pm after 12 hours of labor - that had brought me to decide laboring during the day, for about three or four hours, then having the baby before bedtime sounded good.

Sunday morning, at 40 and 1/2 weeks, I awoke feeling like maybe something was happening.  (No contractions, no show, no water, just a feeling.)  Tona had told me we were having a major low pressure system move through, and that seemed to make sense to me body wise.  I took the kids to church so Xander could go to his Sunday school class.  I hung out with Mimi in the nursery so she could play, and ended up talking over the pleasures - and seeming necessity to prepare one for motherhood - of natural birth with a mom of four.

We came home from church and then ran some errands.  The feeling was still there, but nothing else.  My water doesn't usually break until right before the birth - it never did break with my son, who was born in the caul.  And I don't even have show until well into labor, so I wasn't expecting those signposts.  At 4:00pm I began having contractions that were three minutes apart.  They weren't anything I couldn't function through easily.  I was torn about calling Tona.  She is two hours away and I didn't want her to make an unnecessary trip.  But I called anyway and then told her I was fine and it was probably nothing.  I agreed to call her back in a bit.  By 5:00pm the contractions were still three minutes apart and seemed to be increasing in intensity, though still not unmanageable.  Hhhmm...well, I called her back. I told her to go ahead and come up, and if it was a false alarm, I promised to cook her a really nice dinner.

So then I just sort of hung out around the house.  I finished up some cleaning...emptied the dishwasher, vacuumed the living room, made the cupcakes for the baby's *birth*day party.  Meanwhile Geoff and the kids are outside doing yardwork like it's any other day.  Around 6:00pm I was having to stop and lean against the counter or a table when the contractions hit.  I began thinking I might really be having a baby today.  By 7:00pm I was closer to being convinced as the contractions began demanding quite a bit of attention.  The pool had been filled and waiting for the last couple of days.  I went and removed the cover, put out some candles and towels, put the cd's in the stereo, got out the birth kit and finally admitted I was in real labor.

At a little after 7:00pm I got into the tub.  The kids came too, thinking it looked like a great way to end their day.  (The times after this I got post birth because I never looked at the clock again.)  The student midwife arrived by 7:15pm, with Tona arriving on her heels.  Caraway sat with me as Tona readied all of her supplies - most of which she didn't end up using. The tub was set up in our back room - really a three season porch.  I was getting to the point where having the kids play piggy back with Mommie was no longer enticing and they went off to play with Tona's daughters.

I began to come to terms with the labor and I decided to manage it by letting it manage me.  I followed the contractions as they came.  I leaned over the edge of the pool while kneeling or squatting and just thought - and sometimes said aloud - "open, open, open..."  As much as I could, I was allowing my body to lean forward into the sensations instead of arching back and pulling away from the feelings.  I was able to focus on helping the process along with my body movements and not resist or run away from it - and it was working.  I was consciously aware that this was very different from the approach I had taken in second stage with my two previous births.  I was also aware this would get us through the birth more efficiently, and I wanted to give that gift to the waiting baby - I had no need to hold him/her up.

The back wall of the porch is all windows and between contractions I would look out at the trees and into the sky.  The sun was setting and it helped to ground me to see that the world was going on not in spite of my birth, but in conjunction with it.

I didn't know how long I had been at it at that point, and I didn't want to know.  Tona came in and sat with me.  The kids and Geoff came in and out.  I didn't talk much to anyone, just kept at things.  I began to wonder how far along I was, so I reached in to check.  Then I realized I had no idea what I was checking for.  I could feel the head, but it still seemed so far up there.  A few minutes (?) later I felt my mucous plug, so I pulled some of it up to see.  Okay, so that should mean something is imminent right?  I told Tona where I was with everything.  The distance of the head, the mucous plug, the baby's movements and the student midwife wrote everything down.  (It was as if I was charting my own birth.)   We had already discussed that I didn't want to be *checked* or have the baby monitored during the birth and Tona agreed - barring a joint decision to step in if there seemed to be something awry.   I asked Tona if I would be happy or disappointed if I had her check me.  She knew I really didn't want that, but said she could certainly check me if I wanted her to.  (Conspicuously not answering my question, by the way.)  I knew I really didn't want her to check, so I told her to nevermind.  If I quieted my mind, I could tell where I was.

At this point I tell Tona I would really like to complain, but it wouldn't do any good.  She says to go ahead and complain, I say nevermind again.  I say that I want to be one of those women who leaves the field to go have her baby, throws it in a sling and goes back to work.  Tona says that's a product of a different culture.  I still want to be that woman, and I want that to be our birthing culture.  I say I want to have one of those three hour labors and get to cuddle in bed with my baby and sleep by bedtime.  She laughs softly.  Tona asks me who I want to have catch this baby.  Without hesitation, I say, "I'm doing it."

A part of me must have realized how close I was when I heard that question. And then I looked up and saw everyone was staying put, not meandering in and out of the room any longer.  Okay, so we're having a baby here.  Even though I had pushed two babies out before, I couldn't recall the overwhelming urge to push.  Maybe I had been so reluctant to push, I ignored it.  Perhaps I was so caught up in being told when to push, I had simply waited for someone else's lead to follow. This time there was no denying it.  I can't do anything but begin to push.  I'm still checking myself.  I can now report that my bowels are emptying at a quite steady rate, the head is a little lower, and the baby is still moving well.  At this point, my hand is rarely leaving my perineum.  Then all of the sudden I feel my water break in my hand.  How amazing!  I report that, and Caraway writes it down.  I am so caught up in following my labor... I feel like I am in some bizarre between-world place being both participant and witness.  It definitely feels like an altered experience.  (who needs drugs when you have this?) I feel the baby immediately begin coming down at that point.  Even though I know the *mechanics* of what happens during birth, I am sitting there just in awe that I am feeling it.  I could feel the baby's head right on the other side of my perineum.  I hear a line from a James Taylor song playing in the background... "We reached the treeline and I dropped my pack, sat down on my haunches and I looked back down over the mountain helpless and speechless and breathless" - it was exactly how I felt.   I get into a full squat, hearing Tona tell me to let my body stretch for the baby.  She's right, I think, don't go too fast.  Then I push and feel the baby's head come into my hand. I cannot believe what that feels like.  I look up and smile uncontrollably. "I have the head in my hand!"  I say.  "There's the ear and hair and a face. Oh my god, this is incredible!"  I'm laughing, unable to believe it. Everyone else seems to be laughing, too.  It is so hard to wait for the next contraction, I want the baby in my arms.  The contraction comes, I push and feel the shoulders rotate, the body slide out, and I scoop the baby up to my chest.  I'm beyond words.  I look down and tell everyone it's a girl.  And she's small compared to my last (9lb, 13 oz girl,) I say, I think only 8lbs or so.  It's 9:10pm.  5 hours of labor - only two of hard labor, all before bedtime.  Hhhmm...perhaps creating our own realities is not just a notion, but a real possibility.

The room is cool and I don't want to keep the baby in there, so before I know even realize I'm doing it, I step out of the tub and head up to the bedroom, placenta still inside.  Everyone follows.   I carry Margaret Catherine Coburn to our family bedroom.

I birth the placenta about an hour later.  Our older children Xander, 4yrs, and Mimi, 2 years, inspect it while Tona explains all of the parts.  Xander cuts the cord, with help from Mommie.  We all have birthday cupcakes, sing happy birthday, and there are presents for everyone.  It's a true celebration.

Maggie Cate begins nursing like a pro - her arrival soon to be bringing forth abundant milk to her nursing siblings who have been patiently waiting the past few months.

The necessity of the waterbirth is now clear.  I could not have managed to birth the way I did without the aid of the water to support me.  The water did not lessen the intensity of the contractions for me - what it did do was allow me freedom of movement and the absence of gravity.  I believe the lack of pressure on my body is also the reason I wasn't at all sore following the birth.

I'm still on a bit of a high.  (huge understatement)  I've never done anything like that, but I will never birth another way.  This birth was mine and Maggie Cate's - no one else's.  For us, having a midwife there was absolutely the right thing to do.  She shared her trust in birth with us, gave me the support I needed to do this all on my own, and truly facilitated the birth we wanted - what more complete definition of a midwife is there?  I have so much love and respect for her talent and her person.  And I cannot explain the empowerment I got from this experience.  I didn't know homebirth could get any better, but it just did for me.