After having a bout of "false" labor on Friday night, I thought I was in for another bout on Sunday afternoon with the same 10 minute contractions. Well, when we went to bed Sunday night, the contractions just wouldn't stop, and I got to the point at around midnight where I couldn't nap through them anymore....about 8 minutes apart...not too painful, but attention-getting. I decided to get up and time them for duration and length....7 minutes apart and lasting about 55 seconds. I called my sister-in-law to come on down and then called the midwife to let her know that things were starting to happen (it was now about 2 am or so). My sister-in-law arrived at around 3. I labored a little more at home, waiting for my in-laws to come and follow us to the hospital. We hung out at home until about 4:15.
We got settled in the hospital at around 4:30....me walking in and being nice but assertive, I decided to labor for a while in my t-shirt and shorts. I got checked and monitored...4-5cm with good contractions, located in my back (what? another posterior???). We walked the halls for a while afterthe obligatory 20-min. strip, tried various positions and then a shower. Checked again....a 6 after an hour...OK progress, but pains are more intense.
The midwife comes when I'm in early-transition-like labor....7 cm. Sh easks ME to make the calls....what do I want? Break my water is what I want. The transition is tough, I’m feeling tired and thinking how much easier it would be to just get some drugs, feel nothing, and get it over with....but I can’t take the easy way out, and besides, it’s too late anyway. I decide to give in to my body, and I start to cry as I realize that this baby will soon be born. Husband asks me what is wrong, why am I crying? "I’m OK, they are tears of happiness....the baby’s going to be here soon,"I whisper to him. He decides to go out for a break before the birth. It was probably about 9am then.... I sort of lost track of time and this is where the whole birth gets really primal.
After my water is broken, the midwife lets me follow my body's lead....if I feel an urge to push, do it, since it will help to open that last littlebit and bring the baby down. I go quickly to 10 and -1 station. I begin to feel like an animal, heeding the call of my body's power, being overtakenby the uncontrollable urge to push. I moan, groan, growl, give in, sayyes, revel in the intermittent oozing of fluid with each push. This baby is birthing itself, and the midwife stands by as a passive observer.
I shake between contractions, feeling the presence of the new being within. Push, groan, burn....burn! burn! BURN! Are you going to do anything for me midwife? (my brain asks) HELP! "Let him go," she says (as if I had reached her telepathically), standing halfway across the room, putting on her gloves. (How can she be so calm when I’m going to rip in two???) Push, groan, burn.....it's the head....it's here! "Let him be born," she says calmly.... "reach down and touch your baby's head!" I reach down and touch the squishy, crowning wrinkle, and my hand recoils as I feel his electric presence like a shock through my body. Push, groan, growl.....head is born.....push, push, shoulders (and a tear)....push, body oozing, slippery, and then into my hands... "HE IS BORN, LOOK, IT'S JOHN!" I say. (11:11 I hear the nurse say, 9lb. 3 oz.) What a time it was, folks. I can honestly say it hurt like hell (the memory isquite fresh), but I am so stoned from it all......wow, what a trip.
Valerie Malott (6/11/96)