By Friday, October 20, 2006, all the major items on my to-do list had been crossed off—most recently, my blessingway (October 8); singing for my friend Mary’s wedding (October 14); my belly cast (October 15); our new flooring (October 19); and confirmation that the baby was still head-down (which was given to me when I visited my midwife Jan the evening of October 20). (The squirmy, swimmy little guy had been transverse a week and a half before, then breech, then finally head-down!!! At 38 weeks it was about time!) Driving home from Jan’s, in spite of sitting uncomfortably on the worst hemorrhoids of my life and experiencing frequent Braxton-Hicks contractions (they’d been almost frequent enough to be regular since that afternoon), I felt fairly peaceful mentally and emotionally. I looked down at my belly and said, “Okay, little baby. Everything’s done. I’m ready for you. You can come any time.”
On Saturday morning, I noticed the contractions were stronger and had more feeling to them. I told my husband Chris and he seemed a bit concerned but I told him it was probably nothing. Chris and Hermione, my three-year-old, made pancakes and we had breakfast. Then I got ready for my job at the consignment shop in our local birth center. (I figured that although I was having contractions, since they were minor it was silly for me to skip work.)
When I got to work around 1:15 p.m., I told my friend Nikki, whose shift was ending, about the contractions but I think I downplayed the fact that they were occurring. I hadn’t been timing them; they weren’t strong enough to make me think anything was happening. I don’t even remember thinking I was in early labor. But by the end of my shift at 4 p.m., all I wanted to do was get home. My contractions were strong enough that I needed to find a semi-comfortable position in which to get through them, and they definitely couldn’t be ignored anymore. I could still easily walk and talk through them, however.
I had planned on stopping at the bank on the way home, and stopping for gas since I had taken Chris’ car and was low. Those plans were shoved aside. The whole way home, to distract myself, I sang to any song I found on the radio that I knew (I remember melodically yelling along with George Harrison’s “My Sweet Lord” [but I was so desperate to sing something that I know there was a, yuck, Tom Petty song in there somewhere!]). Or I loudly and forcefully sang, “I just want to get ho-o-ome! I just want to get ho-o-ome!!” Meanwhile, I prayed that I would have enough gas, or at least run out close enough to home where my husband could easily pick me up. Luckily, I got home with a fume or two left in the tank.
Now things get blurry. I’ll try to recollect the best I can.
I got home around 5 p.m. I called Julie, my friend who was going to take care of Hermione during the birth, and Erin, my friend who we’d hired as my doula. I told them I was having some contractions but it was still early so I wasn’t even timing them, I just wanted to call and let them know. (I did actually time four contractions and they were four minutes apart, but I didn’t time the duration or time any more than those four because I didn’t feel like they were consistent.) I felt kind of silly calling Julie and Erin but I did it anyway. Julie said to keep in touch if anything progressed (I think). Erin told me they were going out to dinner but if need be she would get her food to go. She said in the meantime, I should get some rest and conserve my energy. I don’t know if I did that right away. I did do a couple of last-minute preparations, however, like make hard-boiled eggs for the birthing team (“simple foods” like “eggs” were on the supply list from Jan), putting the shower curtain and extra set of bedding on the bed, straightening up a little. Chris helped with the bedding, turned up the water heater all the way (we were planning on a water birth), and installed the infant car seat in the car. Hermione hung out with us and helped as only a three-year-old can, but she still annoyed me, sadly, as she had increasingly as the pregnancy had progressed. (Poor girl.) Anyway, perhaps that’s when I laid down in bed? I’d had to stop and lean on something and sway during contractions, and lying down felt good, except for the intense shivering during the contractions, which made me tense up and thus caused more pain. But between, lying down felt really good.
Chris asked if he should call Jan. I hemmed and hawed and finally said sure. I had seen Jan at the birth center earlier that day (and knew Lucky, her assistant, was there, too) and knew she’d still be there with another mom giving birth, so she wouldn’t be able to come to me yet. But that was not so bad; my labor with Hermione had lasted quite a while, so surely I didn’t need a midwife yet. I didn’t feel I needed her, either. Chris called Jan and told her I couldn’t talk through contractions but was “chanting” (“Surges of energy…surges of energy…”, to remind myself that this is what I was experiencing). (I didn’t think that is considered “not being able to talk through contractions”, since I was technically talking, but apparently it is since I couldn’t focus on regular conversation anymore.) Jan told Chris to call Erin. He asked if it was too early and Jan said it wasn’t too early to call the doula. So he caught Erin just after she had placed her dinner order; she then made it to- go and brought it to our house. Fortunately, she and the rest of her family had taken separate cars to the restaurant, just in case.
The first thing I said to Erin when she walked into my house around 7 p.m. was, “I hope this isn’t a waste of your time; I hope it’s not too early”. The first thing she did, after she put down her dinner, was suggest we take off our rings. If I needed to squeeze her hand, and either one of us had rings on, it would hurt much worse than if they were off. Good idea!
I remember then stopping and leaning on something to repeat “Surges of energy…” with each contraction, then laying on my bed and doing the same. Erin called Jan on her cell phone once or twice to keep her up-to-date, then suggested I move to the living room, where Chris had set up a futon (intended to be used immediately after the waterbirth, before the walk across the house to bed). Reluctantly, I moved myself out of bed and made my way through the house, stopping for a contraction or two en route. I laid on the futon on my left side, like Erin suggested, even though I’d always been more comfortable on the right. But it just felt really good to lie down. Chris stayed with Hermione in the bedroom and watched a movie (Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, or, as Hermione calls it, Snake in the Zoo. They were watching the whole thing and I would have rather they didn’t—I think Hermione is too young for the movie—but it kept her attention and kept her from running around the house and it kept me from worrying whether she was occupied with something other than the birth).
I think usually women in labor tend to strip off their clothes. I was fully dressed from my day in jeans and a sweatshirt, as well as the beautiful necklace from my blessingway. Additionally, a heavy blanket covered me! (And the heat in our house had been turned up to 70 degrees.) (Hormones—it happened with Hermione, too; the heat in our hospital room was at 75 all day and night.)
I tried to listen to a HypBirth CD I had borrowed from Nikki during each contraction. In pregnancy, the CD set was key in helping me relax and deal with any discomfort, my pubic symphysis pain (which, by the way, eventually subsided several weeks before the birth, thanks to prenatal massage, chiropractic care, and the deep relaxation of hypnosis), and everyday stresses such as being a parent to a three-year-old during pregnancy.
At some point Erin offered to light, and did light, the candles everyone had given me at my blessingway. I was glad she did that. Not that I noticed the candles much, but I had really wanted them lit during the birth and it meant a lot that they were.
Pretty soon I felt the urge to push. I was inwardly concerned that I wasn’t dilated enough—with Hermione’s birth I remember the nurses telling me that this was the case. Since no midwife was there to check me, Erin told me to pant through, and I did the best I could but it’s so difficult! Suddenly, during a contraction/push, I felt a huge release of warm liquid, and I honestly thought I’d had a diarrhea accident. I felt bad that Erin would have to clean that up. But she said no, my water had definitely broken. So she gently helped take off my jeans and underwear. I kept my socks, bra, sweatshirt, and blessingway necklace on. The “chanting” had given way to low moaning; I just couldn’t form words anymore.
Soon after that I felt the baby start his descent through the birth canal. I yelled, “He’s coming!” Erin checked and said she didn’t see a head. I knew it hadn’t gotten to that point but couldn’t elaborate further. Erin alerted the midwives that pushing had begun and one of them was dispatched to our house. Eventually the moaning during contractions was replaced by loud, low yelling, and I was surprised by how long I seemed to be able to sustain a yell on one breath! If only I could do that in choir! I also thought it was interesting that I was yelling at all. With Hermione, my pushing was helped by Chris and the nurse holding my legs back and counting. This time, left on my own, I found this is what I needed to do, what felt the best. This is how the excess energy came out.
Each time I felt the baby move in/through me, each time the sensation changed, I made a face, a more thoughtful face that I thought showed I noticed the difference. I did it from when the baby first began to descend to when he came out completely.
Erin called Julie, and since it would take her a half hour to get to my house, Erin asked me if we could call Chandi for the interim, since Chandi lives 10 minutes from me. If someone else came to watch Hermione, then Chris could be with me. Hesitantly, I said okay. I think I hesitated because, I guess, I didn’t think I really needed Chris with me; I didn’t want to bug him at this point, this early—which was silly. It turns out that Erin had talked to the midwife en route and said that I was pushing and not stopping, and she told her that, in case the baby needed to come before she arrived, and since there were no gloves, that Chris should be the one to catch the baby, since his germs were those of the house and environment; Erin would have been introducing new germs, which of course, would have been worse for the baby. The midwife would have talked through the necessary procedure to Erin, who would have related the instructions to Chris. And I had known already that the baby would’ve been fine with the cord and placenta intact until someone “official” was able to arrive.
So Chandi came, and went to watch the movie with Hermione, and Chris came into the living room. (I know at one point before that Hermione was “loose” and I made it clear I wanted Chris to watch her. I knew that Hermione would want to watch and ask lots of questions and run around, and I didn’t want to have to worry about that. I wanted her engaged and occupied with another person until the actual birth.) A while after that, Julie arrived, and then—thank God for the midwife!!! Just three minutes after she arrived, the baby’s head began to emerge. I remember touching it a couple of times and being surprised at how soft it felt. He got a little stuck at the nose, which I’m guessing is how I got my one tear (a peri-urethral tear that didn’t need stitches). Then, suddenly, out he came in one more push. I felt the release but it didn’t seem as powerful as with Hermione, maybe because it didn’t catch me by surprise, maybe because he didn’t come out in one push like Hermione did, maybe because I wasn’t as tired, maybe just because it was a different labor. The next thing I remember is the baby crying and on my belly with a towel over him. What a tiny little cry! I tried to comfort him. I was so happy he was here and felt motherly toward him already. Next thing I knew he was laying next to me with his head on my arm, quiet and calm and alert. A couple of people remarked on how peaceful he seemed. It was then I suggested we check to see if this was, in fact, a boy, like we were told by the ultrasound tech in June! Yes indeed, a boy! Hermione came in then and met her new baby brother. She was so sweet and tender to him and excited to see him.
I am so glad we got to have a homebirth. Going to the hospital would have been a tremendous bother. Besides which, the baby might have been born in the car, ha-ha! Staying home seemed to be the most natural, most right thing to do. Having my husband, child, midwives, and friends all here in my own home, taking care of me and taking care of everything was so wonderful. And looking back, the intimacy of my environment seemed to better fit the intimacy of birth than a sterile hospital environment. Though the homebirth didn’t go exactly how I had planned (and why would it?!), or how I had originally hoped, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Elliot Vio Zamzow
Born at home Saturday, 10/21/2006, 9:33 p.m.
8 lbs., 8 oz., 21-1/4 in. long
Very healthy! Perfect!