It was a crisp, breezy January morning at about 6:20am and I awoke just as I had read in so many books and mommy blogs, I just felt 'different'. How different you might ask? It is one of those indescribable feelings. The kind that you can't wrap your head around. It had been such a long time in the waiting, but in my heart of hearts as Autumn's soon-to-be mommy, I knew she was on her own schedule. As I had mentioned before, I already liked the girls style. While so many others around us were wanting her here on time or soon there after, I had all the patience in the world to wait for her to come as naturally as possible. I had the whole head-strong mama mentality already of 'it's-my-baby-and-she'll-come-when-she-wants-to'. Next time Chris and I already have a plan-of-attack to not have to deal with the anxiety that comes with well-meaning 'is-she-here-yet' inquiries and of course we're keeping it on the hush-hush!
Chris and I were growing ever more frustrated from all the pressure surrounding us that Autumn 'needed to be here already'. It was overwhelming at times and affected both of us more sub-consciously than we were aware of. At times we wished we were Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaugn in Four Christmases where somehow we managed to disguise our pregnancy and then all of a sudden a TV crew appeared after the birth where we surprised everyone of her arrival. We knew this was completely out of the question but hey, we could dream right? I felt that because I took such care of my health during the entire duration of my pregnancy, I owed it to Autumn and to myself to fight whatever preconceived notions there were out there that she was 'late'. Chris and I were educated, prepared and willing to wait as long as possible, so long as Autumn and my health allowed, for her to come. In no way am I preaching of the right way to give birth, to labor or to overall go about bringing a child into this world. My decisions were mine alone and I applaud any woman who goes into labor educated and prepared to get what she wants whether it be natural or planned C-section. And by getting what you want I mean having a plan A, B, and C to readily put into action in the case that plan A goes awry.
Backup to our Bradley classes that changed my outlook on Childbirth forever. They were recommended by my yoga guru Lyissa, the same one that inspired me to become a yoga instructor 6 years back, and they were incredibly enlightening and empowering to both Chris and I. I mean, we both left feeling like we were on cloud 9 ready to tackle any hospital protocol that got thrown at us. We had the 'bring it' mentality and we weren't going to let anyone get in our way. We left not with a birth 'plan' but with birth 'hopes' in hopes that the hospital would respect that we weren't marching in like we were doctors but simply an educated couple who wanted their child to make their entrance in this world in the most natural way possible. While I'm not full on granola I pride myself on eating as naturally as possible, cleaning as naturally, recycling and reusing. I jones for the opportunity to shop at Trader Joe's or Whole Foods and yearn for the day when a Farmer's Market means more than just stopping for citrus or fresh strawberries on the side of the highway. I pride myself on remedying any illness that I have with a hot cup of '*insert special tea title*', a glass of OJ and a cup of chicken noodle soup. I exercised through sickness just because I felt that sweating out whatever it was that I had was healthier for my body than medicating it. I grew up rebelling against western Medicine and prided myself on only taking a single Lortab when I had my wisdom teeth pulled (this will become a vital piece of information for a future post). I had sheer grit and a high tolerance for pain. I had every bit of faith that not only did I want natural labor because it was right for my daughter, but because I had faith that my body could channel the pains of labor through all the pain coping mechanisms that I had acquired over the years. Going into labor, i did not fear pain.
The theme throughout so many of our Bradley classes was that the average gestation period of a baby was 41 weeks and 1 day. As a society, we get so anxious and loose patience throughout our daily lives, its no wonder we especially get anxious in the act of childbearing. Like a meat timer popping from a turkey, a child is supposed to be 'done' cooking at 40 weeks. wrong. Every baby is different and not mechanized. There is no exact science to when a child is supposed to make it's grand entrance contrary to what modern hospital practices make one believe. I am not writing as an expert on the subject, I'll leave that to those that are far more educated on the topic than I. All that I do know is that there is a trend that has developed in hospitals where the advancement of labor is practiced. That a woman's body KNOWS how to birth, a woman's body is made to birth, and the being inside is as much of an active participant as the mother is. In my opinion it is truly one of the most natural and primal team efforts that is out there. I will state my opinion here again that there should be a due month rather than a due date.
I am one of those that LOVED being pregnant. I loved the connection that I developed by growing a life inside of me and how it just added to my incentive to take care of myself. I've been a health-nut for as long as I can remember thanks to my mom instilling in me good nutrition and exercise (more like her repeating over and over "No Katie, you can't have candy, but you can have an apple, an orange or a banana"), but I took it to a whole new level when I was with child. It was that much more vital that the being inside me got all the proper nutrients she absolutely needed. After all, what better start can you give that life in this world than with ~10 months of practicing AT LEAST decent nutrition. And I say decent because as past posts indicate I DID in fact crave fish sandwiches, couldn't get enough bread during my first trimester and my sweet tooth was completely exaggerated beyond my wildest sugar plum dreams. Albeit I did manage to crave some healthy items (strangely) like yogurt and apples. Bizarre. And not once did I make Chris go get me ice-cream *gasp*! Although he made plenty of other grocery runs depending on what I wanted that night.
Back to the story, Chris and I were in shock and awe when the contractions actually began late in the morning of January 3rd. Because I was feeling 'different', I actually never left our bedroom that morning. I needed to just 'be' and get into the zone. While giving birth was completely new to me, I knew exactly how I wanted to be when I was having those initial contractions. Completely alone with Chris. Chris's family was in town, but I wasn't prepared to have an audience. I didn't even want my mom or sister there at that moment. Just me, Chris and little Autumn hard at work beginning her entrance into the world. After all, that little being inside of you KNOWS how to birth itself and is incredibly active in the process if we let them be. More Bradley education and no it's not kool-aid that we drank but simple facts that again get lost in the modern hospital experience. More on that topic later, but let me just say Autumn and I had an INCREDIBLE bond while she was birthing herself. I communicated with her and connected with her in ways that only a mother can. It was euphoric and I'm not afraid to say that childbirth is one of the most spiritual connections that I have had in my life. Trauma aside, I've never felt the high that I felt after bringing life into this world.
I think it's vitally important for the mama-to-be to set the tone for how she wants to begin labor and for those wishes to be acted out. Laboring at home in the peacefulness of my own bathroom and bedroom was some of the most connected that I felt to Autumn throughout the entire experience of labor. Because of the way that chaos began to ensue as soon as we arrived at the hospital, I cherish those 12 hours that I got to spend at home ALONE with Chris and our soon-to-be angel. Yes, 12 hours because I was not going to arrive at the hospital any less than 5 cm dilated for fear of being turned away. I was not going to drive 1 hour back home to continue labor at home nor was I going to sit in the parking lot and finish laboring before they admitted me. I was going to be as close to ready as possible to pushing when we arrived. We were bound and determined.
I sat in the bathtub for hours with Toga at my feet just 1 week out of her amputation surgery. And this is where I still get emotional when I see her laying on that bathroom rug to this day. Chris had gone out to voice our wishes to be alone to his parents when Toga came into the bathroom on her 3 legs. The stress of the past week had been overwhelming to us both. Hosting family, batting down the constant inquiries on why Autumn wasn't here yet, down to our oldest dog getting her leg amputated. We were beyond stressed and yet on that morning when she came and lied down next to me it was almost as if she was saying 'it's going to be ok mama. Look what I went through and I came out happier than ever!' The warm expression on her face is something I will never, ever forget. It was the first day that I could look past the sadness of her leg being gone and actually see the contentment in her face from not being in as much pain as she was when that leg was still attached. I lay there in the bathtub with a tear in my eye telling myself to be strong like Toga, through this entire experience. She became my shear inspiration on that fateful morning where my contractions began about 7-10 minutes apart, 30-60 seconds in length. I knew at that point in the process that it could be just the beginning of a long day. But, the timing commenced. I busted out the contraction timer on my phone and sat in the bathtub timing. And timing, and timing and timing, one right after the other right after the other. Relaxing and timing and just trying to ride out each contraction like the wave that it felt like going through my body. Something that no book, blog or conversation can prepare you for is how a contraction feels. For me, it was nothing more than just minor cramping in my whole abdomen. A 'rush' as I like to refer to is as. It honestly felt just as I imagined. Every time my uterus contracted I imagined Autumn receiving a huge hug of encouragement. As hippie as that may sound it is complete AMAZINGNESS how these small movements of the uterus are really what moves that little being down into the birth canal. Birth is SO COOL I thought to myself as the contractions were actually taking place. I remember thinking to myself how my 'test' was beginning. All the education, the preparation, the meditation, the relaxing had all come down to this culminating moment where labor was beginning SPONTANEOUSLY on it's own. I remember feeling contentment in the shear fact that at this point I had already checked off one box on our birth plan, she began to arrive on her own, unassisted by any interventions. I'm not going to lie, as much as Chris and I were against having a home birth, at this point in the peacefulness and calmness of the first stage of labor, I FINALLY opened my mind to the fact that having a home-birth would be an incredible experience. I had been approached several times about home birthing and even enthusiastically read Ina May's Guide to Childbirth and the experience of The Farm, a Midwifery Center located in Tennessee. Again I placed no judgement, how a woman chooses to birth her child is HER DECISION but home-birth at the time, for Chris and I was off the table. Let's just say we'll revisit that topic the second go around and I wonder to this day, although you can't turn back time, if the trauma would have occurred had we been in the comfort of our own home. But life happens and you go with your gut. Our instincts were pointing us towards the hospital, Eglin was the option simply because of our insurance and we were going to roll with the punches. Let me just say if only we knew then what we know now. But time goes backwards for NO ONE. We live, learn, get kicked in the ass sometimes while we're down but we learn to get right back on the saddle and ride again.
~contraction timer: smartphones rock!~
After the tub, I got out and sat on the floor in half lotus, sat on my yoga mat and meditated listening to the 'birthing playlist' that Chris was barely able to compile as it somehow always ended up being last on our priority list. I chuckled each time a Christmas song came on as somehow we thought she would be here by that time, how silly we were to think that she was only going to be 5 days late! She played us for fools! This little lady was about to enter into this world 2 weeks late and you know what, I laugh at it still to this day. Especially in my sleep deprived state because finally at 4 months we are starting grasp that daytime is reserved for playtime and the occasional nap and nighttime is reserved for sleep! A novel idea to say the least but one in which many, many babies don't quite grasp. It's completely normal but let me just say that most of the what I read in the 'What to Expect when you're Expecting' department did not highlight the sleep deprived state that you would be in for months postpartum. I suppose it gets easily sugar-coated because it's just what you 'do' as a parent but let me just say there is whole post I'd like to devote on the importance of HEALTHY SLEEP! Never did I ever cherish my sleep as much as I do now after having a little one.
Back to the story, the contractions began to get closer together, about 4-5 minutes apart, 30-60 seconds in duration when Chris and I decided it was time to start walking. And not just pacing the bedroom but full on lets go take a walk around the neighborhood and get Autumn to MOVE DOWN kind of walk. I put on my scarf and an extra layer and we headed out on that breezy afternoon just the two of us to walk out the contractions. I remember feeling so little pain at this point and feeling relieved at how calm and peaceful we were just walking together. Perhaps it was my 'I-can-endure-any-pain-BRING-IT' mentality or the shear fact that my mantra was 'Pain-with-a-purpose' but that first stage of labor felt amazing. I felt confident in how the contractions were progressing and I could feel that with every contraction she was working with me. We were a TEAM...
Up Next..Part 2..Making our way to the hospital!
