Well, at 5 days past my due date (which I tried not to put any hope in), and after countless nights that my husband and I said goodnight to each other thinking that we might be up a few hours later only to wake in the morning with no baby in our arms, I decided to finally get one last task done that I had been procrastinating on. I wanted to sew some cloth baby wipes, and so I got out the machine, fabric and supplies and began sewing. And wouldn't you know it, as soon as I started in on that task, the contractions began. At first they seemed just like the ones I had been having over the past few weeks, but after a little while I started realizing that they were coming fairly regularly, and so while I sewed, I would glance up at the clock every so often and see how far apart they were. 8 minutes. 6 minutes. 7 minutes. 5 minutes. Hmmm....no, I wouldn't jump to conclusions. Denial, right? :)
The girls were downstairs watching TV, and hubby was puttering around the house doing a little tidying, a little organizing (this is completely normal behavior for my Dutch husband), and a little facebook perusing. I didn't bother mentioning it to him, since I didn't want him to start to jump to conclusions either.
Then all of a sudden they were stronger, and coming 3 minutes apart. I let Ryan know that it might be time to call his mom to pick up the girls for their "baby's coming sleepover", and I called the midwife.
As soon as I realized that it might be actually starting, I was flooded with panic and anxiety. Suddenly I was facing it again. For the third time I would be experiencing my body giving birth - no small feat. For the third time I would be heading into uncharted waters, because really, who can predict how it will go? My first two were so different - the first being long and hard and the second being a short 3 hours of intensity. What would this be like?
I asked hubby to calm me, to pray for my peace, to be close to me while I passed through this moment. And I was met with just that - a calm, happy peace passed over me as I breathed deeply and remembered to relax my body and mind, and trust.
I am a person of faith- one that seems to change and grow and shift as life goes by. In my mental and spiritual preparation for this labour and birth, I spent some time seeking out the paths I would need to take to find comfort and to pass through this experience without panic and fear. I have always known the God of the Bible as "He", but have also believed that God is bigger than gender, and that the male gender doesn't encompass all that God is. And in this preparation, I felt that I would need God to be a SHE. A mother. A mother who understood childbirth, who understood because she created all people. With this image I began my labour.
I imagined myself on a wooden deck overlooking a vast field of wildflowers, sun shining and breeze blowing cotton through the air. I was holding my baby, and the Mother was with me, loving the baby as much as me. I swayed back and forth with the contractions and she swayed with me.
Labour slowly intensified, and as it did, I moved from the bed we had set up in the living room into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and then as things got more intense, into the bathroom and into the bath. All the while, I was on that porch, overlooking that field, swaying and holding my baby, with the Mother alongside me.
I lay in the bath and my left brain told me I was nearing transition as the contractions intensified and I began to calmly, loudly, moan through them. They came one on top of the other. My thoughts became foggy as my right brain took over. Here's another one. If I just moan loud enough, long enough, rhythmically enough, they're manageable. Don't tense my body. Leave it limp. Moan through them. By the third moan, the contraction will peak and I'll be over the hardest part. Moan. Relax. Don't tense my hands. Moan it out and away. Breathe. Breathe. Rest. Relax. Another one coming. Moan through it. Third moan will do it. Relax. Don't tense.
The midwife and hubby were whispering. Then she asked, "are you feeling pushy?". Then I felt the baby move downwards. A new sensation. Two more contractions and my body gave way to the otherworldly urge to bear down. Baby was coming. And soon.
No amount of relaxation could have kept me calm and quiet at this point. I came back to myself. My head cleared. I began to feel panic, and was reassured by the midwife and hubby that I was doing well. The midwife told me that the baby was "right there", to which I roared, "I KNOW!", because I did. :) The second midwife arrived as I climbed out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor. They were going to bring me into the living room where the bed was set up, but I wasn't going to move from that spot. The baby was coming and I was going to have it right there!! Ten minutes later, she was lying on my chest, big, pink and perfect. She cried her eyes out at the cold and shock of light and noise. A healthy, beautiful baby girl.
Had I at some point wanted a boy? Had I really thought that I might be disappointed if a girl came out? Those thoughts raced through my mind and seemed so foreign, so hilariously mistaken! It was she who was in my belly the whole time! It was she who we were waiting for! Not some random lottery of gender, or person, or identity. She already had her own identity - our beautiful little baby girl. Not even "number 3" or "the third daughter". No, she was herself. She was her own person, in her own right, and I am so happy she's here. She has brightened up our lives, just as her sisters did each in turn as they arrived into our family. I'm so thankful for her, and for the person she'll become as she grows, whoever that may be. Thanks be to the Mother for sustaining me, for my husband who held me up, to the midwives for their gentle support and wisdom.
Her name means "bringer of joy", and it's true!
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