A Birth Story
I have a family blog, where I keep more of those memories. This is the birth story I wrote for on there, about Therese's birth 9 years ago today!
I've edited it a bit for here.
This story came to my mind recently because her birthday was coming up, of course. But also in light of my own thoughts about death, with this current world crisis happening. I know I'm not high risk, but...I also know that you never know.
During Therese's birth I felt the closest to death I've ever been! I don't know if it was REAL but the thoughts and feelings sure were REAL.
So, for those of you who love a birth story (like I do!),
here you go:
Therese Marie's Birth Story
I've edited it a bit for here.
This story came to my mind recently because her birthday was coming up, of course. But also in light of my own thoughts about death, with this current world crisis happening. I know I'm not high risk, but...I also know that you never know.
During Therese's birth I felt the closest to death I've ever been! I don't know if it was REAL but the thoughts and feelings sure were REAL.
So, for those of you who love a birth story (like I do!),
here you go:
Therese Marie's Birth Story
As I seem to recall, Matthew told Greta's birth story on our family blog. This postpartum period I have more of my wits about me and would love to tell the story of Therese's birth myself.
It all started last Saturday with a fitful sleep that woke me with contractions at about 5:20 am. I lay in bed listening to the birds chirping, thinking "...this is the day" (for real!).
Matthew had predicted on Friday that I would go into labour Saturday, and he was right!
It all started last Saturday with a fitful sleep that woke me with contractions at about 5:20 am. I lay in bed listening to the birds chirping, thinking "...this is the day" (for real!).
Matthew had predicted on Friday that I would go into labour Saturday, and he was right!
The contractions kept going for an hour, so I let the midwife-on-call know. She told me to wait and contact her again when they got longer and more intense. So we carried on with the morning, called our nanny to have her come take care of Greta, and waited for labour to pick up the pace. Mid-morning I contacted the midwife, Carole, again. And after a short walk outside with Matthew she arrived at about 11:30.
I was so pleased to hear I was already 6 cm dilated!
Carole said we could go to the hospital or wait it out at home a bit longer, but that she would now stay with us the rest of the time. So, we stuck it out at home, as I was dreading being at the hospital.
I was so pleased to hear I was already 6 cm dilated!
Carole said we could go to the hospital or wait it out at home a bit longer, but that she would now stay with us the rest of the time. So, we stuck it out at home, as I was dreading being at the hospital.
I passed the time moving around, trying to make sure Therese descended in an optimal position, and also hung out in the shower. Once in the shower, though, labour seemed to really move along. I started to feel pretty discouraged and scared, thinking of what lie ahead for me--and had a bit of a crying "I can't do this" moment. I decided we'd better get the trip to the hospital over with sooner than later.
So we said our goodbyes to Greta and sped off to the hospital.
The ride there was really intense, and I urgently told Matthew not to go over any bumps!
He was sweet and managed to hold my hand through each contraction on the way.
So we said our goodbyes to Greta and sped off to the hospital.
The ride there was really intense, and I urgently told Matthew not to go over any bumps!
He was sweet and managed to hold my hand through each contraction on the way.
The transition to the hospital wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. Carole was already there when we arrived, which was really comforting. We settled into a room with a nice nurse, and I soon asked if I could please have some laughing gas available to "go to my head" when I saw fit. In case you don't know much about it, well the laughing gas doesn't take the pain away, doesn't effect the baby, and only lasts a few moments--but, it sort of calms the mind as the pain reaches its most intense point. I had loved the gas with Greta (there's a video proving this, actually), and was soooooooooo glad to breathe it in again when it appeared in my room.
*(Unfortunately I later remembered that after awhile it actually doesn't help at all anymore, and I also later found out: you can't use it when you're pushing!)*
*(Unfortunately I later remembered that after awhile it actually doesn't help at all anymore, and I also later found out: you can't use it when you're pushing!)*
Labour went on and on. Pretty soon after getting to the hospital I was 8 cm dilated. Carole said she could break my waters to move the whole thing along more quickly, but that they were still pretty high, and breaking the bag early would increase the likelihood that the cord could wrap around baby's neck and lead to emergency procedures...
...I wasn't in that much of a hurry to risk it, so I declined. I'd had complications with Greta and was really hoping to avoid them this time.
So Carole just encouraged me to stay up and moving around and trying out different positions, which was great. Matthew was there for all my hand squeezing needs and he made sure to keep some good music going...(I will never be able to listen to a certain Blossom Dearie album in the same way...).
...I wasn't in that much of a hurry to risk it, so I declined. I'd had complications with Greta and was really hoping to avoid them this time.
So Carole just encouraged me to stay up and moving around and trying out different positions, which was great. Matthew was there for all my hand squeezing needs and he made sure to keep some good music going...(I will never be able to listen to a certain Blossom Dearie album in the same way...).
Soon Carole was confident it would be alright to break my waters, which was kinda scary...cause with that, labour really intensified. I had another crying "I can't do it" spell, and was worried that the contractions would start coming one on top of the other like they had with Greta. I had a particularly low moment, close to fully dilated, when I was yelling for something to take the pain away NOW!!! The laughing gas didn't do much of anything to help at this point, aside from the tube of it providing me a safe place to bite down on when the pain hit its peak.
It is all very vivid in my mind:
the look on Matthew's and the nurse's faces as I cried and demanded relief. I knew someone could come and take all the pain away just like that...but I also knew that I was so close to pushing that it was pretty pointless by then, and would just slow everything down, and quite possibly lead to interventions I didn't want. Carole knew all that too, and she knew how much I wanted this birth to be natural. She kept saying "Let's just get through another contraction, you're almost done--baby's doing so well and you are so strong!" and Matthew kept reminding me of how much I wanted to push this baby out all by myself! (I'd been saying that the whole pregnancy. No one thought I could, after Greta was born HUGE by cesarean. No one thought I could get a baby out any other way, cause I'm small. And I wanted to prove them all wrong!!!)
I was also encouraged knowing that Therese was coming down and that she was in a good position--Greta never fully descended and she was in a a sunny-side-up way. Knowing that, and feeling so supported, really helped.
And soon I was ready to push.
It is all very vivid in my mind:
the look on Matthew's and the nurse's faces as I cried and demanded relief. I knew someone could come and take all the pain away just like that...but I also knew that I was so close to pushing that it was pretty pointless by then, and would just slow everything down, and quite possibly lead to interventions I didn't want. Carole knew all that too, and she knew how much I wanted this birth to be natural. She kept saying "Let's just get through another contraction, you're almost done--baby's doing so well and you are so strong!" and Matthew kept reminding me of how much I wanted to push this baby out all by myself! (I'd been saying that the whole pregnancy. No one thought I could, after Greta was born HUGE by cesarean. No one thought I could get a baby out any other way, cause I'm small. And I wanted to prove them all wrong!!!)
I was also encouraged knowing that Therese was coming down and that she was in a good position--Greta never fully descended and she was in a a sunny-side-up way. Knowing that, and feeling so supported, really helped.
And soon I was ready to push.
I hadn't pushed at all with Greta, so I had no clue what it would be like. I had heard from others that it was easier and more satisfying than other parts of labor...
...NOT my opinion though!!!
Wow, pushing was so hard!!!
I guess it was relatively satisfying in some ways, because I was DOING something and getting more tangible results, but...wow was it painful and tiring and I just felt like an animal with no inhibitions whatsoever!
I pushed for an hour and a half and had a cheering squad of Matthew, Carole and our nurse Allison the whole time.
I will never ever forget how Carole kept saying to me "It's ok, it's safe, it's safe"--that really helped.
Just as it was all getting to its worst and most intense and I-can't-do-this-anymore part, I had this moment. This moment where my crazed and chaotic mind centred onto something that gave me my last bit of power. I felt some kind of evolutionary bonding with all other mammals (I'm not kidding! And is evolutionary a word that's even applicable here? I've decided it is). It was as if I was melding with all mammals through all time who had given birth. Some kind of simultaneous feeling of pain, power, death and life.
And then, from the room next door, I heard another woman wail, and then I heard her baby cry.
I hadn't hear ANYONE before that. I wasn't even aware there were other people in labour anywhere near me.
After those moments, the most amazing moments of my life, all of the sudden I could feel the head, then soon the head came out (YIKES that was crazy) and Carole said I'd probably only have to push through a couple more contractions and then she'd be completely out.
Well the next contraction I pushed so hard...
and then all of the sudden they threw this baby up on top of my chest!!!
I was SHOCKED!
I said
"She's out??!!!
I did it!? I did it!
Matthew!
I did it! I did it! I did it!"
I don't even know how many times I said "I did it!"---sooooooo many.
Therese's face was a bit blue, but her eyes were looking at me and soon she let out a small cry. I held her on me--all slimy and new--and we just snuggled for a bit.
I felt absolutely no pain anymore...
*...(despite having a 3rd degree tear--4th degree is the worst, just to put it in perspective...)...
...NOT my opinion though!!!
Wow, pushing was so hard!!!
I guess it was relatively satisfying in some ways, because I was DOING something and getting more tangible results, but...wow was it painful and tiring and I just felt like an animal with no inhibitions whatsoever!
I pushed for an hour and a half and had a cheering squad of Matthew, Carole and our nurse Allison the whole time.
I will never ever forget how Carole kept saying to me "It's ok, it's safe, it's safe"--that really helped.
Just as it was all getting to its worst and most intense and I-can't-do-this-anymore part, I had this moment. This moment where my crazed and chaotic mind centred onto something that gave me my last bit of power. I felt some kind of evolutionary bonding with all other mammals (I'm not kidding! And is evolutionary a word that's even applicable here? I've decided it is). It was as if I was melding with all mammals through all time who had given birth. Some kind of simultaneous feeling of pain, power, death and life.
And then, from the room next door, I heard another woman wail, and then I heard her baby cry.
I hadn't hear ANYONE before that. I wasn't even aware there were other people in labour anywhere near me.
After those moments, the most amazing moments of my life, all of the sudden I could feel the head, then soon the head came out (YIKES that was crazy) and Carole said I'd probably only have to push through a couple more contractions and then she'd be completely out.
Well the next contraction I pushed so hard...
and then all of the sudden they threw this baby up on top of my chest!!!
I was SHOCKED!
I said
"She's out??!!!
I did it!? I did it!
Matthew!
I did it! I did it! I did it!"
I don't even know how many times I said "I did it!"---sooooooo many.
Therese's face was a bit blue, but her eyes were looking at me and soon she let out a small cry. I held her on me--all slimy and new--and we just snuggled for a bit.
I felt absolutely no pain anymore...
*...(despite having a 3rd degree tear--4th degree is the worst, just to put it in perspective...)...
A bragging point here (besides that, ha!) that I just have to share...Carole told me I was so strong and she hadn't seen someone be that tough and push so hard in a long time. The other midwife I saw the next day said that Carole had told her that too--which made me really believe it and not just think "oh she's just saying that"...you know.
Birthing Therese Marie was the proudest moment of my life and I will never ever forget it or let it fade away.
****************************************************************
That middle part, the part that's typed like this, that's the part I've been thinking of lately.
This is a birth story.
But, everyone says that during birth the woman might feel like she's going to die. Going to die.
I mean, intellectually and rationally that seems true.
With this Therese birth I had that moment where I was united with all these other beings. And it was an amazing feeling that I have a hard time articulating.
Some things words can't explain.
I wonder if that's what it feels like to die?
And I wonder if that feeling is voided out if we're having medical interventions while it's happening?! (I didn't have this experience with my other two births!)
I know this is morbid, but come on, we all wonder what it's like to die. Probably moreso right now.
And birth and death are just two sides of the same coin.
Anyway, the other thing is, even if we're not talking about literal birth and death, well right now the world is going through a lot of symbolic birth and death, death and birth, birth and death, death and birth. And, along with literally tooooooooo many people, well, the way that we are is also dying--in some ways--and.....
.....in many ways that part is a good thing.
Because out of it something else is (hopefully) being birthed.
It's hard. It's painful. And it's powerful.
And it's a bit different for everyone too, I'm sure.
But, I'm also sure we're all having these similar moments, and ponderings, and realizations.
Let's stay awake for it--breathe a little laughing gas from time to time to give ourselves a break--but feel it. Birth it.
****************************************************************
That middle part, the part that's typed like this, that's the part I've been thinking of lately.
This is a birth story.
But, everyone says that during birth the woman might feel like she's going to die. Going to die.
I mean, intellectually and rationally that seems true.
With this Therese birth I had that moment where I was united with all these other beings. And it was an amazing feeling that I have a hard time articulating.
Some things words can't explain.
I wonder if that's what it feels like to die?
And I wonder if that feeling is voided out if we're having medical interventions while it's happening?! (I didn't have this experience with my other two births!)
I know this is morbid, but come on, we all wonder what it's like to die. Probably moreso right now.
And birth and death are just two sides of the same coin.
Anyway, the other thing is, even if we're not talking about literal birth and death, well right now the world is going through a lot of symbolic birth and death, death and birth, birth and death, death and birth. And, along with literally tooooooooo many people, well, the way that we are is also dying--in some ways--and.....
.....in many ways that part is a good thing.
Because out of it something else is (hopefully) being birthed.
It's hard. It's painful. And it's powerful.
And it's a bit different for everyone too, I'm sure.
But, I'm also sure we're all having these similar moments, and ponderings, and realizations.
Let's stay awake for it--breathe a little laughing gas from time to time to give ourselves a break--but feel it. Birth it.
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