Kali's Birth

At 2:30 am I woke up with pain in my lower stomach (later to realize these were contractions!). Anyway, I had had this happen the week before and just thought that it was a mild type of contraction. Anyway, the got progressively stronger throughout the night but nothing really hard, just that they would wake me up every half hour. I thought maybe it was indigestion and that I had to go to the bathroom. So I tried that, but it didn't seem to help. I fell asleep between them and when my husband's alarm went off at 6 am to go to work, I got up with him. I felt something trickle down my leg and just thought that maybe I had peed by mistake. (Later to realize it was my water breaking) By that time they were getting stronger but still not really painful, just like an achiness that wouldn't go away. When he was taking his shower, I had another one and started walking around the house in circles, getting on my hands and knees to see if that would help. Jazz our dog came up and licked my face as I lay there on all fours in the living room.

Gloria and my mom had both told me to call them as soon as I felt anything, but because I wasn't sure I was having contractions I decided to wait. I didn't think that this was how they would feel. I guess I expected something more debilitating.

Then by 7am I decided to call Gloria because they felt quite strong. So I called her and told her I was letting her know that I was having sensations. She said "this means you will have a baby in the next 48 hours". I guess I really downplayed the contractions and she thought I was only just beginning. This being my first pregnancy, we were all expecting a longer labour. I told her I'd run a bath and would try sitting in it. She said that was a good idea and to call her if anything changed. She asked if my mucous plug had come out yet, if I was bleeding at all and if my water had broken. I said I didn't think my water had broken.

Anyway, in the next hour the contractions really got hard. The achiness got stronger and wouldn't go away, then the contractions would come, almost 5-10 minutes later I had a contraction and the mucous plug must have come out because I started bleeding with each contraction. My husband was dutifully staying by my side and cleaning the floor every time I had a contraction and dripped all over. I felt so bad because he kept trying to soothe me by rubbing my shoulders, putting his fist on my sacrum anything he could think of only, it only made me feel worse! First I was hot, so he ran around the house opening windows, then I was cold, and he ran around again closing them all!.

Then by 8 am I called Gloria again and said "ok this time they are coming really close, and I'm bleeding". My husband was trying to time them, but it felt like I was having one constant pain so I couldn't tell when they were coming and going. She listened to me go through a contraction on the phone and said she was going to come over. I then asked my husband to call my mom, but he said we should wait for Gloria to arrive and tell us what she thought. Then a little while later (I guess maybe 20 minutes or so) I asked him to call my mom and tell her what was happening. He did and she said she'd head on over.

By about 9 am I had gotten so tired from being in the bathroom standing and sitting on the toilet, I started to shake and get really cold. My husband turned up the heat and suggested that maybe I go lay on the bed, he would get it ready. So I decided that would be a good idea since I was just so tired of standing. I got into bed on my side and that felt better at least to be warm. All of a sudden the contractions completely changed and I had the most incredible urge to push. This was so comforting because at least when that contraction ended the pain went away. I could relax a little. After my first push, Gloria arrived, and came in, I was lying there shaking and she said that was normal. Then I had another contraction and she said I did this huge push, she then sprung into action. Went in the kitchen and told my husband that I was going to have this baby before noon, she asked him to boil 2 pots of water for her instruments and then came in and put the plastic under the sheets.

I was so relieved to hear that the baby was on its way. Anyway, my mom arrived shortly after. It was a peaceful 2 hours of pushing, resting, and pushing again. In fact, I really did very little pushing and just let my body push the baby out. I fell asleep between contractions, I had no idea how long I had been sleeping when the next contraction came, later I found out it was only minutes, but to me it felt like I had had a nice sleep in between each one. It really was not that bad! It felt so good to push, except of course when her head was crowning, but by that time I felt so close to having her in my arms I didn't mind the pain, and it really was nothing compared to the 2 hours I spent in the bathroom. The thing with the pain is that the last 2 hours of pushing, in between contractions I could completely relax, and the pain was completely isolated to that one area, the contractions I had had earlier in the bathroom, were much more difficult because it was a constant pain, and my whole body ached. I really had expected it to be much more painful than it was.

Anyway, Gloria was so wonderful, she just told me I was doing all things correctly and that my pushes were just right, the room was so nice and peaceful, only Gloria whispering and my mom telling me what was going on, that she could see hair or things like that. My husband just sat beside me on the end of the bed and gave me his hand to hold. He said nothing and just gave me a kiss in between contractions. The lights were dim, the dog was just sitting there watching quietly. It was great.

Then at 11:07 Kali came out! What a neat sensation! My husband, who had been holding my hand the entire time and giving me water to dring, got to catch her coming out. She started screaming right away and he put her on my chest, which made her stop crying. We just lay there for quite a while, waiting for the placenta. She didn't want to latch on right away so we just lay there. Then after about 45 minutes she latched on. The placenta didn't come for about an hour and half.

Anyway, it was just as I had wanted it to be, only faster! I didn't expect it to only last a total of 8.5 hours.

Now we've just been resting with our wonderful, beautiful baby girl Kali, she weighed 7 pounds, 8oz, and is healthy as a horse. Dec, 2001.

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My Birthing Journey

My journey began when I was 18 years old , and hungry for the taste of motherhood. As a child who was born to a 14 year old female in what was likely a dis-empowering birth, I had tasted detachment from the day I was clinically tugged into this journey. I was wisked away from my young mother, into the plastic gloved hands of strangers, who plunged me into my solitude inside a hard bassinet, and force-fed chemical concoction from a rubberized teat. I am certain that I longed for the full breasts of my mother, and warm heart beat. I was placed in a home with more strangers, whilst I waited 3 months in between mothers. Finally I was adopted by a loving but cold, mainstream family. So, when I started off on my own mothering journey, my conscious pulled its learned memories quickly into auto pilot, and from these artificial instincts I carried my first child, as some disease needing to be managed that I so deeply had buried within me. My pregnancy was long and terminal, and I loathed my body for failing me in every “diagnosed “ way. I hated being full with child, and wanted to see my baby, and assumed my doctor and his specialists knew when that time should be. I was diagnosed “hypermesis gravidarium” and lost 17 lbs the first two months of pregnancy. I felt ill from the moment I opened my eyes, and it never did stop. “Insufficient weight gain”, “dehydration” “placental malnourishment “ gestational diabetes” The labels were many. The doctor seemed to be reaching for something. I spent 7 weeks in the hospital after being diagnosed with an “incompetent cervix”. There never was a problem.

I accepted, bought, and wore with great fire the label of illness, and I was completely at the mercy of my family physician. I eagerly accepted videos, ABM samples, and teaching from the great artificial breastmilk gods. I expected to breastfeed, but took no stand on becoming inspired and educated in this realm. I was injected for 8 weeks with steroids to help my babies lungs develop, for the doctors decided my baby and my body would fail me in birthing at the right time as well. My fundal height was not appropriate for the “charts”, and so I was forced to birth in a hospital that I was adamantly not wanting to be in, as thier ICU unit was more properly suited for my needs. “You’re baby will be under five pounds”.

After thinking my water had broke I eagerly rushed into the hospital. It hadn’t, but apparently a pocket of fluid surrounding it had. I still am confused by this. The latest specialist checked my amniotic fluid with another ultrasound, and decided it was too low. I had passed the dozen ultrasound mark. In my ninth month of pregnancy I had to hold a full bladder more than 7 times because of all these “necessary” ultrasounds. I haven’t been able to hold my bladder since.

The experts chose to induce me that day -Dec.22. I was thrilled. I wanted nothing more than to end this illness, and finally see my baby. Put on the drip, strapped to my bed, my hell began. I endured hard strong artificial contractions from 11am until 5 pm with no progress. Flat on my back, and strapped to everything, a stranger ended. He shovelled his thick fat hand into my vagina, and stated I had not progressed, that he’d leave me on the drip for 5 more hours, and if nothing happened we’d start all over tomorrow. I cried. I was overwhelmed at the idea that I would have to endure this torment for 5 hours more, with no prize baby at the end of the night. My doctor came a half hour later. This pleased me. He checked me with familiar hands. They still hurt. He announced I had progressed to 6 cm, and we’d have this baby by midnight. I was thrilled. I was like a spectator at my own birth. People would come and go, tell me what to do. I was riving in agony at these oxytocin contractions, strapped down. An epideral I agreed to. They asked if I had to pee. I said yes. They put a catheter in me and unloaded a pail. Labour moved forward. They told me when I could push, I felt very little. I crapped on the floor, and was embarrassed, as the mood was not a normal birthing mood. Everyone was quietly chatting, and there I was crapping on the floor. They didn’t listen when I said I had to poop. The nurse cleaned it up.

I was coached to push. I had little urge. I said, “ ok its time to get serious this is starting to hurt” The epi was wearing off. I pushed 6 times. They shoved the gas in my face. I heard the doctor saying the heartbeat was dropping, and he was going to call another doctor. He cut open my vagina, an episiotomy they like to call the slice. 11:48 pm – my little boy was born. Wisked away- I knew that feeling. He breastfed like a champ. I was thrilled and thanked my doctor completely. He ordered supplements for my baby and wished us well. My nipples bled, they felt like burnt nipples being twisted by steel tweezers. I was mortified, I assumed then and there that I couldn’t breastfeed, my body had failed me again. I sobbed alone in the cold hospital bathroom. What luck, that Nestle was so close to comfort me. I had formula, and I gave it eagerly. The nurses gave me a nipple shield. Relief, as well as nipple confusion. The string of artificial mothering followed. Taught by the culture, and drawing on my own memories, and experience, I detached from my baby quickly, and forced him to sleep alone, circumcised him, was angry and confused. He was scheduled, and manipulated to fit into my agenda, and I left him in others care as I went back to school at 6 months post partum. PP depression, and general confusion as my spirit struggled with this artificial play I was performing.

At one year post partum I quit school and came home completely to my baby. My belly ached to be full again, and I started listening to a primal voice buried soooo deeply. I began the journey to compleat mother. I suffered from horrific nightmares of failed breastfeeding, and vowed to succeed next time. I became pregnant again, and was thrilled. I learned everything I could about morning sickness, and naturally remedying it. I was like a soldier. I would not let this take me over again. I got through the early months quickly and with only slight illness. I ravished in my pregnant body. I gained 40 lbs this time. I practiced declining routine testing from my doctor. I made a birth plan, and had become an expert in the field of breastfeeding knowledge. I devoured anything that spoke of pregnancy birth or breastfeeding. I still had not found the alternative community. I mainly read factual things. I hadn’t heard the word homebirth yet.

I planned a hospital birth with my doctor, but was adamant about doing it naturally, and on my terms. I began light contractions that were quite regular on april fools day in the morning. None of my friends believed me. I called my doctor and told him just to let you know. He requested I come in. I said I would be there at some point. I liked owning the show. I made my way in around noon. I was told by the nurse that I was in false labour. I smiled. She was going to send me home but called my doctor so as not to get into trouble. My doctor arrived, blew past the nurse and checked me. I was 100% effaced and three cm dilated. He ordered me a bed, and said I progress quickly. He smiled. I still like my doctor.

The nurse took her frustration out on me. Less than professional. I informed her I was going outside for a walk, and left with my friend. I came back an hour later and she had changed her tune. A nurse showed me my room, and asked if I had a birth plan. She clearly was judging me as a foolish young mother. She was quite surprised when I produced a three page signed birth plan outlining everything imaginable. She sat down and went over it with me. I gained her respect. I phoned my dad and asked him to pick me up a car seat as I hadn’t expected to go into labour at 38 weeks, and we were going to purchase it that Friday. I couldn’t talk through contractions. I walked the hall with my friend, and never once saw the duty nurses. I stepped into the swirling Jacuzzi. It was very helpful and eased the back labour immensely. A knock on the door and my state of bliss was interrupted. My doctor had come back and wanted to check me. My friend opened the door and I happily greeted him. He abruptly asked if my waters had broken. I replied no. I got out and the contraction hit like waves. I barely made it across the hall, they were so intense. I got to my room, and my doctor asked I put my gown on. I had another contraction and he returned, “sorry – I didn’t have a chance” I said smirking. The nurse told him I would be fine in my night shirt. I liked her.

He broke my bag of water, and rush! It sent my rhythm right out of control. The man had been there 10 minutes and manages to screw up the perfect dance I was experiencing. I needed to push. I realised my husband hadn’t gotten there yet! He came and I cried on his shoulder. I like to cry- I find it very refreshing. Some people get bothered by crying in birth. My doctor ordered me on my back semi- sitting and got into position. I wasn’t comfortable. I saw my hands grasping at my perineum, and he shooed them away “ get her hands out of there!”. Burn, push, out came my beauty. Onto my chest and to the breast .I trusted my body again. My doctor said there was a weez in the babies lung, and wanted it checked. I complied. He left and didn’t come back- I was left hanging. I asked the nurses the next day if he had called in the results. He hadn’t. Several hours later, unaware if there was a problem, I informed the nurse I was leaving, and she hurried to call my doctor. Everything was fine in the x-ray. Apparently my hastiness is what got me my information.

I went home, and slept with my babe for a month and then began introducing a schedule. She never knew artificial nipples and nursed until 18 months. I was on my way to becoming enlightened. I now had tasted freedom in birth, and began to attach to another human from birth. A fire was lit within. I continued my passion for breastfeeding, and began advocating and learning why our culture does not accept breast nurturing as the ultimate gift to a child. I began attending La Leche League when my baby was 11 months old, as a nursing strike had ensued. I became very attached to the group and decided to start my own leadership. I continue to reap the rewards, as well as the trials.

I became pregnant for the third time in July of 2000. I was thrilled and eagerly awaited my belly to fill with life once again. I suffered from more morning sickness than I had the last time, but still persevered although not as prepared as I was with my second. It lasted approx 16 weeks. I floated through my pregnancy enjoying every moment. I dealt with some joint and back issues, and crippled up in the sciatic area from time to time. I found chiropractic help valuable. I gained 50 lbs and it wasn’t all on healthy food. I glowed with radiant spirit and soul within, and I loved to be primal mother. Standing nude in front of my mirror filled me with a sense of glorious beam. I still had enlisted the care of my family doctor, as habit had become old hat that way.

I was given old back issues of the compleat mother magazine early in my pregnancy, and was introduced to the idea of homebirth and extended nursing, family bedding, and attachment parenting. I learned of midwifery care, and birth freedom. I connected with the stories so deeply it ached inside of me. My truth was finding family in these pages. I was finding the words, and stories to thoughts I had but hadn’t yet put claim to. I was getting more and more empowered. I absorbed the information and empowerment within.

I continued my visits with my doctor. They were always short and hasty. I went over my birth plan with my doctor at 31 weeks gestation. He was hesitant to many of my plans. There were red flags in his comments, and I became uneasy. He used words like “ I can’t control the perineum in that position”, “you need to have the oxytocin- breastfeeding isn’t enough”. He ran a tap in his office to show me how I would bleed in childbirth without his necessary drugs.

I went home and contacted my local midwife for her opinion on his thoughts. I learned that I wasn’t alone in my hesitations, but most importantly I learned I wasn’t trapped in his care. I interviewed, and chose a different midwife, planned a homebirth, and dismissed my doctor at 33 weeks gestation. The final stage in my empowerment had taken form.

Along with my husband and kids I met our midwives for the first time, complete with questions that would determine their suitability. I didn’t need to ask half of those questions however, as their wisdom, and ability shone through so vividly. I went to that interview hopeful we would connect, and left with a new and perfect expectation of what to expect at my birth. I was thrilled, and filled with vigour and enthusiasm.

I went into early labour at 36 ½ weeks, and was terribly disappointed to learn that my midwife wasn’t comfortable with me birthing at home, at that stage of gestation. She felt the baby was too small, and wasn’t safe to birth at home. She had only known me for 4 weeks, and hadn’t had any history with me and my usual small uterus. I cried in the bathroom.

I had dilated 3 cm and was 80% effaced at that point, contracting moderately every 3-5 minutes. After several hours I was checked again at home by the midwife and learned my body was slowing down… I stopped progressing. I was on strike. From that moment on I seized to dilate, and my contraction moved longer apart, but continued for days and days. I was grumpy, and annoyed, and done with this never ending “labour”…I wanted either it to stop and me to gain my pregnant self back, or to have the baby for crying out loud! I didn’t want to be labelled “in labour” anymore.

 

After a couple of days my senior midwife informed me she wasn’t coming out to check me that day, and I felt abandoned. I didn’t understand how she viewed this “labour”. Whilst I considered it an active situation, she new it was prodraumal, and didn’t need to be apart of it actively. My other midwife, the one with whom I connected so completely, phoned me every night, and she truly wore the badge of midwife. I felt taken care of and cared about by her, and she was support like no other. Every night she would call to see how I had done that day, and every night we spoke about all things, and I felt kinship. I went into the midwifery clinic and was checked again. I needed desperately to know if I was pregnant and waiting again if this was truly labour….I was surprised and excited to learn my cervix had closed to 10% effacement, and 1 cm dilated. We would have our home birth. Ha!

I went home and cooked the meals for post - partum I had missed out on doing before hand. I was happy to be in waiting once more.

I lost my mucus plug as I walked through my complex mid day, on Apr. 3 2000. I kept running into the house and going up to the bathroom to check if anything was happening down below. I was thrilled to see that beginning of show..who would have guessed?! Contractions were frequenting, and I had been in pro draumal labour for 2 weeks… I wasn’t getting to excited.

I layed on the couch awhile, and ended up going to bed at 8 pm. I was awoken through the night with the sensation I had to pee. Finally at 5 am, I knew things were starting to move along. I couldn’t get comfortable ni bed any longer and had to get up. I walked through my house and inhaled the scent knowing it would belast time I smelled the life outside, without this life, inside.

It was dim, and I lit a candle and burned my inscense. I had a banana, and sat at the table in the kitchen. I enjoyed the quiet stillness of the morning glow. I mediated within myself and invited the life inside to bless me today. I danced

I phoned my doula at around 6 and let her know finally today would be the day. She asked if she should hurray and I told her no, just be by within the hour. I needed female spirit among me.

She arrived just close to 7 and we talked. She had some tea, and I had a coffee, knowing soon I wouldn’t stomache such liquids. I enjoyed it. I phoned the midwives to let them in on my secret of impending birth, and told them not to worry about coming to soon, but just to be aware.

Renee knew I wouldn’t have called unless this was truly the day, as I had vowed days earlier. We hung up and renee on her end called the other midwife who lept out of bed and scrabled.. They both called me back insisting that I was suuuuure they didn’t need to hurray over?

This I love about midwives.. no doctor has ever scrambled for me .Carmon ( my doula ) took the phone and was prompted as to whether she thought I needed them right away. How funny it was to watch others determine my needs. I was the one who knew what I needed as it ended up ..imagine that. Jamie my husband showed up out of bed at some point around now. He was cranky and I got mad that he was put out, because I had awaken him, I was only having a baby after all! Pardon me for disturbing him! We worked it out quickly, and he shook of his morning grumpy self.

I couldn’t talk through the contractions anymore and Carmon told them it might be a good idea to come on over. At 8:30 am the midwives arrived at my home. Anne threw Renee out at my doorstep, as she went to park the car, she was certain Id be pushing by now! She flew in the door, and I looked up at her smiling, coffee in hand. They checked me out and I was 100% effaced, and 4 cm dilated. The show was being performed and I loved that the stage was set in my home. My home buzzed with excitement. Everyone was there waiting to perform their specific role. I went out doors for a walk with my doula, and I remember much wind. What a powerful windy day it was. Soup was cooking by one of my child helpers, and sage burned through the house. I was checked again and I was 6 cm dilated. I glided away from everyone and swayed at the kitchen sink as I did some dishes. My house my choices, my dishes, my play. I kicked everyone out. Late after noon and I went for another walk. Things were moving along smoothly, and my dance was perfect. I listened to Alannis Morrisette, Sarah MacLachlan, and much much Enya through out the experience. Allannis loud on headphones outside, I adored her helpful soul. I moved up to my room around 4 and the intimate group followed. Things were getting heavier, and focus was necessary. 8 cms. I was surrounded by my two midwives, my husband, my doula, and my best female friend. My kids floated in and out, accompanied by their helpers. I braided my hair, moaned cried swayed, and begged for the hands that dug deep into my back to remain.

After 3 1/2 hours of transition I was on a ride that was getting harder and harder to stay on. Check me and give me focus I cried. I was complete, but with no urge to push. The water bag was tough and fought to stay in tact. After what felt like forever I asked for my water to be broken, I needed to move on. Hesitantly the midwife tried twice with no success. The bag was not being artificially ruptured.. A procedure I had always had done to me. A few moments later my doula suggested the shower! What a brilliant woman! I had forgotten completely about this option- silly me! We moved into the bathroom and ran the shower on my aching back that was bruised from the hard necessary massage. 2 minutes of relief, and suddenly I am sitting in a cold streaming shower. Mental note- don’t do all the laundry on birthing day = no hot water!. I sobbed.. why??!!! I returned to my room.

I needed hard pressing hands digging into my lower back at all moments, and if they were released I lost it..”Don’t leave me !!!!” I cried out. Anne leaped across the bed, her knowing hands grasping to give me strength. I didn’t ask for much, but what I did ask for, I did it loudly and clearly. There was no mistaking my needs. Keep your hands on me. And don’t leave me. Renee persuaded me to lay down as I had been standing since this morning litterly, and my legs were swelling. I layed on my side and squealed into my pillow. Bursts of sobbing and crying and laughing. I would constantly reassure everyone I was ok- I needed to cry, it felt good and fresh. They may not have needed my reassurance. I grunted and groaned and heaved that bag broken, and finally it exploded litterly all over my midwife and clear across the room, nairly missing my friend, and hitting my window! Soon after my contractions mellowed out and the hurricane of feeling inside me was calmed and I put up my and said ..”shhhhhhhhh”. It is the calm we all need. “this is when the doctors would tell you, you were failing to progress, the time when they get inpatient, and hook you up to drugs”.. Ahh what a glorious time, sweet silence in the middle of the pond- a trickling of water, and wooosh! It comes again ~ The rest and be peaceful stage has done its magnificent part, a quick retreat into myself and the baby and I are ready to go once again.. What an awesome moment programmed into the experience.. such a shame so many woman miss out on it. Ahh! Pressure! The head came down quickly and after 4 ½ hours of transition my body began to squeeze this wee one out of me. Oh the burn! I grasped at my perineum, a motion I had always been rejected to do. Having my hands there to feel my way through this movement was completely perfect, and I rode the ride with full awareness. Out comes the head, and I push the ..shoulder.. shoulder.. and I grasp under the arms, pulling baby onto me. Relief! What a glorious moment! Quiet quiet, a moment to absorb the sensation of awe. The sex was a mystery to which only I held the key. A few moments later, and I had a peek ~ A boy. Our newest cub, a male. The onlookers backed off, and for a moment no one else existed. Our family huddled close as we all took in our newest member. The importance of this moment, I cannot explain to much. The family, the whole family. Avery Caleb sniffed at my nipple and nuzzled, but did not latch immediately. Soon enough though, he was suckling like the instinctive mammal he is.

We all embraced him quickly and eagerly, and then we slept. The last step in my eyes opening to what birth really is, to what I am truly capable of. And I will never be same. I am female, powerful, birther. No man, or medical establishment will dictate how my body will operate. I am whole, and so are babies. I look forward to my birthing journey and what it will bring our family.

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