The labor story

In detail. (It's long.) After my midwife appointment earlier that Tuesday where I found out I was 5cm dilated, I made sure to pay attention to every squeeze and moment of pressure that might or might not be a contraction. I called my friends who live close to the birth center and asked them (if necessary) if I could come over and hang out that night just so that I could be 10 minutes away or less if I did start having harder labor. No more labor in the car like last time! I wasn't sure if I was being hyper-vigilant or just prepared. But there was no sense in ignoring it. I might as well be overprepared than caught off-guard.

At 7pm after dinner (side note about dinner: I had planned to make an Ethiopian lentil feast that night for dinner, with lots of spice and such. When I found out I was 5cm, I scrapped that plan and went for a simple stir-fry. Wasn't interested in Ethiopian food sitting in my stomach for labor. My mouth was not as happy about my decision, but every other part of my body was happy once I started labor.), I started timing what I thought were Braxton-Hicks contractions (which I found out later were actually early labor contractions because they were continuing to dilate me) and they were coming every 4-8 minutes. I called the midwife, Gazelle, and she said to not waste any time but to just come in and she'd meet us at the birth center. We wasted a little bit of time gathering stuff together and giving orders to my mother-in-law about clearing a space in my room so that the baby could have space to sleep in the bassinet, lined the car seat with trash bags (just in case) and put Kindred to bed. (I had no time to cry, but wanted to.) Our neighbor, Lindsey, was here and helped us with last minute details and gave us stuff to do at the birth center: books, travel Tetris, etc. (It was so odd to think about having time to do random stuff at the birth center before the baby came, or even after. Last time it was so frantic we didn't even have time to set anything up when we got there- music, pictures, anything calming or centering, etc. I got there and had a baby very soon after. Having time to chill seemed like a foreign, almost funny idea.)

We got in the car and headed out. We were hesitant to call friends-- what if this wasn't it? We made a few calls anyway, and ironically made it to the birth center perhaps faster than we'd ever made it even though we weren't rushing. When we got there, Gazelle met us and we all sat around and chatted and laughed for a long while, listening to music and looking at pictures I had drawn and sketched. Her favorite was this one:
She liked it so much she even ran it downstairs to where they were having a birth refresher course and showed the class!

She checked me soon after and found that I was about 7cm. It was around 10pm, so we went out to walk around in their beautiful garden and try to encourage more progress. My contractions weren't strong and they weren't coming at steady intervals, but they were lower in my back and pelvis and not easy to completely ignore. Michael and I still hadn't decided totally on a name for the child, so we talked about that for a while as we walked amidst the flowers and trees in the darkness. The stars were really bright. Lara showed up and sat outside with us for a good while. I was starting to feel a little tired, so I decided I wanted to go lie down and maybe get in the jacuzzi.

Gazelle came and checked me again and found that I hadn't really gone anywhere. It had been 2 hours or so since the last check. She mashed and mushed around up there for a minute and tried to "get things going", as she put it. Apparently it worked. I got up and went to the jacuzzi, which was lovely, while Lara left to get Michael and she some dinner. (OK, late dinner. It was about midnight.) Michael lit our big lilac candle and put it on the tub and I just relaxed. Not for long though. Suddenly, there they were. The contractions I remembered. The ones where I had to sit up and hold tightly to something and breathe and try to relax until they passed. Those lovely "transition" contractions that take you from 7cm to 10cm. I went through several of those in the tub and then got hit with one that made me cry. I knew I probably needed to get out of the tub after that one. (I was not allowed to deliver in the water.) I needed to pee, so I sat on the toilet after Gazelle and Michael dried me off. (It's funny how pregnancy and labor make you feel like you may never have any modesty again.) But then I decided sitting there was a pretty comfortable place to get through my contractions. I also (this may seem a little graphic. I'll try to make it as subtle as possible.) knew that nothing "cleans me out" quite like having a baby move down the birth canal, so I tried to empty everything before I got on the bed and started pushing. Michael was really good to me, and bent over to let me lean my head on his shoulder while I moaned and groaned my way through the waves of pain.

Then the time to push became clear. I got up and walked to the bed. I had envisioned sitting on a birthing stool and leaning over the bed, but when the birthing stool was placed on the floor in front of me, I couldn't figure out how the use it. It became completely impossible for me to visualize how I would sit and lean, such that Gazelle even had to demonstrate for me. I couldn't think straight at all, let alone think spacially! I got hit with another contraction and ended up with one foot up on the stool, which is not exactly the proper way to use it. I gave up quickly on the stool. Then I went on all fours on the bed for the next push and got a major cramp in the back of my thigh. My legs had cramped through my last labor, and I wasn't about to let them do it again, so I flipped over on my side, pushed again, and finally got to leaning against the headboard and pushing 2 more times in a reclined sitting position.

Again, I do not try to be graphic, but I think this picture that Lara took really describes well what was happening right before Elias was born. See my face, then look at Michael's.
In any other circumstance I would think that someone showing that much excitement while someone else is experiencing that much pain would be totally sadistic. This was an exception, and I don't hold it against him. (Although it's probably a good thing I didn't notice in the moment.) I believe he was thrilled to be married to such a power-woman.

Anyway, so the contractions weren't letting up much at all in between pushes, and I was just powering through them, trying to get this baby the heck out. I knew I was probably going too fast, but when you are in that place, it isn't like you comply with logic. I heard Gazelle say, "There's your baby! I see your baby!" then "Oh, and there's the bag of waters." Michael says that Elias's face was covered in this veil and Gazelle broke through it and broke my water as he was emerging. I felt this immense release of pressure then. Now here's the funny part. Gazelle didn't want me to tear, so she tried to get me to make those small grunty pushes to gently send the baby out. She did this by just yelling, "Michelle, little pushes! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH!" I knew what she was trying to do, so I copied her, but I don't think my pushing was any lighter. Then I realized that Michael and the nurse were also going "WAH WAH WAH WAH!" I remember thinking that this was really bizarre and a little funny. (Lara said later that she was really shocked when the WAH's started and that she thought it was something we had all talked about doing before she got there!) After the chorus of WAH's, I knew Elias's head was out, but my belly was still too big for me to see him. I pushed again right away and out came his shoulders and arms, and Gazelle told me to take him. So I reached down and grabbed him and pulled him the rest of the way out of my body and flopped him up on my chest. He was covered in vernix so thick that my hands were kind of stuck to him. He screamed and cried for a minute, then he calmed down and just snuggled with me.

The nurse was sure that he was over 9lbs, but I was not convinced. He seemed too skinny. I mean, Kindred was chunky butt at birth, and this little one didn't seem to have much of a butt at all. When he got weighed about 45 minutes later, we saw he was not 9lbs. He was 8lbs 8oz, which was OK with me. (The nurse was shocked. I tried not to gloat.) I had not torn really at all, and didn't need stitches, thank goodness.

Elias was born at 1:40am, so everyone was a little worn out. Michael's parents were in the living room waiting for the big event, and my mom was, once again, on her way from Pittsburgh. (Michael's folks could be there because our wonderful neighbor, Lindsey, agreed to sleep in our apartment with Kindred while they left for a few hours.) Elias nursed and we all rested, and it was a very peaceful night.

The next day, Kindred came to meet his new brother for a few minutes and wasn't sure how to feel about him. The first time Kindred saw and touched Elias, the grandparents stood over the bed with cameras like the paparazzi, so I don't think it was quite a calm intro. But it probably didn't matter too much because after Kindred said hello, he was ready to move on and explore all the cool cabinets and doors and rolling chairs in the room. The grandparents took him back home to nap. Michael and I and Elias (and my mom) left around 3pm that afternoon. I really felt like it was the ideal time at the birth center, and the experience was what the midwives strive to provide for every woman. I didn't feel that way last time, but this time was wonderful. I felt relaxed and well cared for, and actually had no idea that, like last time, there were 4 other labor/ births going on at the same time.

That's the story. I will talk more about my healing process later. Until then, here's some post-birth pictures of friend and hero, Lara, and the grandma's with their newest boy.