The Birth

Throughout my pregnancy I would ask friends to describe their birth experience. Those who birthed naturally would usually use abstract and rather ambiguous language like “intense”, “out of control”, “forceful”, “overpowering”—all words that did not paint a clear picture of what to expect. I was hoping to come away from my birth experience with a more detailed and relatable depiction. Sadly, that’s not the case. The adjectives above are all I too can muster up to describe this amazing, whirlwind of an experience—the act of giving birth. It is crazy, beautiful, terrifying, awe-filled and so much more.

I had gradually dilated to 4 centimeters throughout the month leading up to Ayla’s birth. Can’t say for sure why – exercise, braxton hicks…who knows. On the Wednesday before she arrived, I had a couple hours of some pretty good contractions. Nothing too intense, but more than I’d experienced up to that point. Derek and I thought I was going into labor so we set up the birthing tub and got all our supplies ready. The night progressed, but my labor didn’t. The contractions subsided. I found out a few days later, however, that the evening had served to continue dilating my cervix to 6cm and 90% effacement. On Sunday, I had some stronger contractions and back pain for almost seven hours. Again, we assumed this was it but waited to call our midwives until it got more intense. The afternoon proceeded with fairly tiring contractions that required deep breathing and focus, but did not “turn the corner” into labor. It was a beautiful time of candles lit and worship music playing as Derek assisted me in various labor positions, but I was disappointed by the end of the night to find my contractions dying down rather than speeding up. My midwife came over on Monday to check me out and discuss why my body was not turning the corner into birth. Sunday’s contractions didn’t dilate me any further, which was surprising to all of us. My body was obviously ripe and ready—now 100% effaced, Ayla was in a perfect position, her heartbeat was strong and reactive, my cervix was totally supple—but I just wasn’t going forward. There seemed to be no harm in my being so far along yet not in labor, just uncommon and unexpected. My midwife stripped my cervix membranes to nudge me into labor; the act of which dilated me to 7cm and revealed to her even more so how stinkin’ soft and ready my cervix was. She ran some errands for a few hours thinking that stripping the membranes would be all that was needed to set my body in motion. When she returned and I was not any further along, we decided to give me a smidge of prostaglandin gel inserted vaginally. Certain that this would put me over the edge, we waited for things to pick up. Still, hours passed and neither an increase of intensity nor further dilation occurred. Finally, my midwife reasoned that perhaps my water sac was so full that the contractions were not able to fully clamp down on the uterus.

At 10pm she broke my water and within 10 minutes I had “turned the corner”. I was in labor. Finding my rhythm, I paced back and forth in the living room breathing deeply, shaking my hands ferociously, with peaceful celtic music in the background. It took about 15 minutes of intensity to dilate from 7 to 8.5cm. Knowing that I was getting close to being fully dilated, I got in the birthing tub to finish out transition. After about three crazy, strong contractions I asked my midwife if I could start pushing…not because I felt the sensation to push but more so because I didn’t want to be dilating any longer. Assuming that I was jumping the gun, I was surprised when my midwife checked my cervix and said “yup, you’re free to start pushing”. After a few contractions, Ayla’s head dropped down and was crowning. They were coming so fast and powerful, with only 30 seconds in between. I had no time to think, feel, complain…I just had to push with everything inside of me. I was at the mercy of my body, more out of control than I’ve ever been, entirely overhauled by a force of nature bigger than my mind. I was so close to meeting my child, but then learned that her head was stuck at my perineum. She was camped out in that position for maybe 30 minutes…with hopes that each push was the one that would get her through. My midwife tried every maneuver she knew to stretch my perineum and navigate Ayla’s head out, but nothing worked. Finally, she asked if she could snip my perineum. I told her to do whatever was necessary to get my baby out. Within a snip and two contractions, Ayla’s head popped through followed immediately by her shoulders then body. Like a blue fish, her 10 lb., 22 in. being raced into the water and was scooped up into my arms. With Derek behind me, having supported my upper body throughout the whole pushing experience, we held our little one. We got out of the tub and sat on the couch (with liners underneath us to protect from blood). I started breastfeeding Ayla with Derek at my side. I delivered the placenta in one push. We headed back to the bedroom and settled in with our new daughter. My family showed up to celebrate with us. I was totally and utterly wasted and rocked. Amazed, empowered, and entirely exhausted. So thankful it was done. Couldn’t believe how hard it was. Not necessarily painful at all, just beyond intense and demanding complete surrender. It was 2.5 hours of a waterfall plummeting my body. A force of nature beyond anything I knew to expect or anticipate.

I’m thankful that it was short, that I was in my own home, that I birthed in warm water, that I felt God’s peace and strength in the midst of the craze, that Derek was an incredible support and friend, that I birthed naturally, that Ayla is healthy, and ultimately – that it is over and I have my little girl.

Each day I feel more human again. The body’s ability to heal itself amazes me. Ayla is beautiful and we are already in love in ways we didn’t know to expect.