*****
Betty Magnolia was born on January 14th at 6:58 a.m. Her birth was one of the most amazing, powerful experiences of my life. The most, actually. My first two births brought out my babies, but they were not ideal (the second, in fact, was a traumatic C-Section). This birth, the charming third time, was ideal.
In the weeks leading up to my due date (January 5th), my belly measured smaller instead of bigger. That happened in my first pregnancy, too, which prompted an early induction. But thankfully, this time around I was under the care of providers who trust in birth and believe in women, so even when it was a week past my due date and my fluid level was decreasing, they did not intervene. They monitored, asked me what my intuition told me, and advised me simply to take a bath and talk with my baby. I felt that my baby was safe and strong.
I did a lot of walking, a good bit of living room dancing, and even squats. I ate Scalini's famous Eggplant Parmesan. I felt things stirring, felt my body getting ready. On Sunday, January 13th, I tucked my daughters into bed and lay on the couch to watch Tina & Amy host the Golden Globe Awards. I was having contractions somewhat regularly. Suddenly I heard Stella, my 9-year-old, in the bathroom, and I rushed upstairs to help her as she began to throw up. To think I was in labor while tending to my vomiting child--motherhood's multitasking! My contractions became stronger and more regular. Around 11:30 p.m., I called my sister Melanie, my birth partner, and told her I wanted her with me. She came posthaste and helped me time contractions. Just after midnight, standing in my bedroom, my water broke. Oh glorious gush of water! I knew this was true labor, and I couldn't help but laugh. Over the next hour my contractions grew more intense, and I told Melanie it was time to go to the hospital. She called our two doula friends, Pam and Guina, and our midwife friend, all of whom planned to attend the birth. Anjli, the midwife, was not even on call that night, but she met us at the hospital, literally at the door to the labor & delivery ward, and walked me to my room.
Pam and Guina arrived and got right to work setting the mood. They hung string lights, arranged battery-powered candles around the room, displayed the quilt from my Blessingway, and wafted lemon essential oil through the air. Melanie got the iPod going. I sported my orange tank top and Blessingway necklace for power and support. Anjli determined that my cervix was 4 centimeters dilated. And so, I labored. The hospital staff, including nurses, barely showed their faces, as I was in the presence and care of some of Atlanta's most heroic birth professionals. Melanie Nasmyth, along with being my beloved sister and birth warrior times four, is a certified doula and active member of the birth community. Pam Roe and Guina Bixler, dear friends, are two of the most experienced doulas and birth teachers in the Metro area. Since Anjli was not on call, she stayed in the room through the entire process. Heroes, I tell you! I contracted; they held me, held space for me. Guina guided my breathing: Breathe in, down around Betty, and out. The guided breathing was out-of-this-world helpful for getting through those intense contractions. Melanie and I tried a little dancing and singing. I labored in the shower for a long time. I started getting nervous about having to push at some point in the near future. There was no escape! And then I knew it was time to fill up the tub.My legs were so tired from standing most of the night. Sitting in the pool of warm water brought relief, and I actually fell asleep for some of those 30 second breaks between contractions. Even thirty seconds of rest eases the process! Soon my body knew to get up onto my hands and knees. Throughout that night, through those hours of labor, it did not feel like a hospital or a medical event. Anjli never checked my cervix again. My noises showed my progress. My body led the process. On my hands and knees, I knew it was nearing time to push. Melanie and Guina were in front of me, looking me in the eyes and offering encouragement. Pam was behind me giving counter-pressure (SO helpful.) Anjli was next to Pam observing, encouraging, and letting me know Betty's head was coming down.
Back story... A month or two earlier, as I was reading Women Who Run With the Wolves, I thought, "Wouldn't it be cool if there was a wolf at my birth?" As soon as I thought it, I knew, in the way that we know things, that there would be a wolf present. Not literally, but the energy, the spirit, the archetype. I pictured a wolf in the hospital room, supporting me and Betty. I texted my sisters saying there would be a wolf at my birth, and they responded, "Huh?"
In the birthing pool, on my hands and knees, I felt the pressure of my baby's head. It was time to push, and I was afraid of the pain. I started growling. And as I pushed through every contraction from then on, I growled a low, primal growl unlike any noise I have ever made. I just growled and growled through the pain until Anjli said, "Reach down and catch your baby!"
I was the wolf.
I reached down and caught Betty, bringing her up out of the water and into my arms. I could not believe I did it. She was here! With all this dark hair! Safe and strong. No interventions, but the all-natural, normal process of birth. Mother and baby working together, surrounded by a group of loving, supportive women. I cried and I laughed, and I said to Betty, "Welcome to the tribe." I sat in the pool for a long time, holding her in wonder.
*If you notice something (someone) missing from this story, well, that is another birth story, still in process. Death and rebirth, really. It hurts like hell, but I am surrounded by a loving, supportive tribe, and now I know from experience that I am strong and capable. As in labor, so in life.
