Fast and Furious
The Birth of My First Born Child
Today I am going down memory lane once again. Twenty-five years and some odd months ago, I gave birth to my first baby. The reasons of significance for this event are mostly obvious but I want to dive deeper into how this big event in my life transpired into my passion for being a doula.
After I got married, I had little time to think about being pregnant or what childbirth actually meant because, within months, I became pregnant.
My family lovingly joked that I was a hypochondriac. I was the girl who would get a papercut and that's all I could talk about at dinner time. So, when I mentioned that I was considering a natural home birth, I got a little push back from everyone. At the time, home births were common in my circle of friends, but my loved ones were unsure that I would be able to actually go through with it.
My husband, Michael, was very adamant that I have my way and encouraged me that I was strong enough to do it. He is not an alarmist, in fact, he is very laid back. He did not consider having our baby at the hospital a "have to". He has a degree in biology so birth actually interested him. Michael was obviously a wonderful partner for me as I went into the unknown of giving birth. My midwife was also great for me throughout my pregnancy even when we told her we did not want to know the sex of the baby until after we had a chance to bond with baby. My pregnancy went very smoothly and was uneventful.
I am now 39 weeks pregnant. It is a Sunday afternoon and I am at my mom's house. Everyone is hanging out. Some are watching TV. Some are working on a puzzle. I had been experiencing some Braxton Hicks contractions, and of course, thought every time I started getting that tightening sensation that "this is it." This particular afternoon, I notice that I am getting them more frequently than usual. The tightening turns to cramps and I find myself in the restroom several times. My mom begins timing and there is, in fact, a 3-4 minute pattern.
Michael and I decide to head home and we “Call the Midwife”. She comes to our house and checks me. I am dilated to 4 cm and my contractions are becoming stronger. She confirms that I am in active labor. I feel excited and nervous at the same time. I pretty much immediately get into my bathtub which doesn't really help much. But I just focus on my breathing and tell myself not to lose control. I reach a point while in the tub that is very intense and I stand up.
“I don't know about all of this, y’all...?”
My midwife checks me again and within one hour I have already progressed to 8 cm dilation. She encourages me that I am doing well. My mom and sister are at the house with me and take turns recording the birth. At one point right before a contraction, I hear, "Say hi!" The camera pointing straight at me. I reply back, "IIIII'm busy!" I have tunnel vision and I am focused more than ever now.
There is slow music in the background as I go through the most painful of my contractions. I never again play that tape because of what it reminds me of. It represents something hard. The hardest thing I have ever done. I feel vulnerable, I am in need and I have no control over the situation. I am, however, surrounded. I am not alone. I am being affirmed that I am strong, I am being comforted and heard. This is so vital in keeping me focused.
Less than an hour after being checked at an 8, I am now on the birthing stool. It's time to push. I had felt nerves throughout the process, now I'm scared. But I am determined as well. Michael is sitting behind me and I am leaning back on him. My midwife is on the floor watching and waiting. At this stage in my birth, I am loud through every