Viola's Birth Story

Much of this story is taken from the note I posted on Facebook, but I wanted to record a few additional details here...

I knew that going into labor naturally would be exciting, but I definitely underestimated the magnitude of the surprise. I prepared myself for a nice, medium-length labor- a sensible 8 to 10 hour ordeal. I assembled a tool bag of mental techniques and physical props to assist the process. And I carefully coached myself not to expect anything to happen until at least 40, or even 41 weeks, had passed. So carefully in fact, that when labor began, I nearly missed it. For weeks leading up to the birth, I felt increasingly painful pre-labor contractions. Sometimes I would get excited that this could be "it", but I trained myself to set wishful thinking aside. I didn't want to be too disappointed if I went overdue.

Wednesday morning, the morning of the birth, appeared to be just another practice run. I felt hard contractions and jotted down a few times to see if they were forming a pattern. For some reason, I believed that true labor would exhibit a rigidly ordered progression with contractions at 25 minutes apart, then 24, 23, and so on. When I saw that my contractions were jumping around between 15 and 30 minutes apart, I dismissed the whole thing. I took the kids to Target and then made lunch. A little before 2:00 pm, I called my mom to tell her about the contractions I had that morning. I told her I didn't think anything real was happening but she might want to be sure her bag was packed just in case. As we were talking, I felt my water break.

It wasn't as big a gush of fluid as I thought it would be, so I still wasn't certain. I called Dawn anyway. She told me that over the next 2-3 hours the contractions would likely move to 10 minutes apart, at which time I should call her back. I called mom back and told her not to rush. In my imagination, the contractions were still 20+ minutes apart. In reality, they were never separated by more than 15 minutes after my water broke. After calling Dawn and Matt, I threw myself into a frenzy of household chores. I cleaned my bathroom, swept the kitchen and dining room, and fretted over the kids' overnight bags. I figured Viola would arrive maybe 8-10 pm. Sometime around 2:30, despite contractions that were already less about 8 minutes apart, I told my friend Faith that I still planned to make pancakes for dinner! But by 3:15, I began to feel more urgent. I called Matt again to ask, "You're coming home, right?" He arrived around 3:30, and Dawn came sometime before 4:00. The contractions were manageable up to this point because I was busy and because there was such a nice break in between each one. In fact, the break between pains was so relaxing, I would even begin to fool myself that the next one wasn't coming.

We had established "plan A" and "plan B" childcare for the kids- I was adamant that a "family birth" was out of the question- but it happened so quickly we couldn't get reach anyone in time. When the kids got up from their naps at 4:00, we confined them to their room. Between then and about 4:30 Matt ran back and forth taking care of me, filling the birth pool, and serving the kids their snack. I sat in the living room with Dawn while she led me through some relaxation exercises. After 4:30, the pain intensified and I could no longer let Matt out of my sight for more than a couple of minutes. When I moved into the birthing pool at 5:00, we put the kids in the playroom at the back of the house.

Just before entering the pool, I felt the first inklings that Viola was making her descent. After entering the pool I enjoyed about 5-10 minutes of relief. I think it would have been a helpful tool if I had had a longer labor. As it turned out, I moved into the transition period almost immediately. After that, nothing could help me. Labor was like a freight train moving full speed through my body. I dilated from 8 to 10 cm in a few minutes. At this point, I had a very strong urge to turn back, as if I could somehow call the whole thing off. I remember telling Matt, "I don't want to do this." I had imagined the need to push would be a sensation I could control, but was a little alarmed to find how forceful and involuntary it was. The mental imagery and other techniques I had planned flew out the window. I clung to Matt's neck and survived because I had to.

Viola was born at 5:33 pm, and I felt overpowering relief. A few minutes after she was placed on my chest, we brought the kids into the room. How sweet to have them with us to greet her right away- I'm thankful God knows what we want and need better than we do. Nine minutes after the birth, my mom rushed in. None of us were ready. If I had been rushing to the hospital, I probably would have been one of those women who delivers on the sidewalk.

There were so many things I loved about this experience. I was cared for by someone who became a trusted friend over the course of the pregnancy. Because of this personal care, I actually felt like I was having a baby this time instead of undergoing a procedure. Matt and I were able to do something truly important together. The wonder and mystery of birth- elements stripped away by the modern hospital atmosphere- were restored to us.