When I had been pushing for nearly two hours during Jacob's birth, I began to get discouraged and upset. I was on the verge of falling into despair. The prospect of transfer to the hospital, which meant ultimately a repeat Cesarean, was the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. The midwife had not checked me but once during labor, and that was two hours earlier when I had started pushing, to be sure I was complete. (We had agreed prior to the birth to keep checks to an absolute minimum because I hated them.) She reached behind me as I squatted in the pool and her tone, which had moments ago been grim, was suddenly elated. "Jill! You've got to feel this! Your baby's head is right there!" I put my hand down into the water and yes, it was true. It was the most incredible thing I had ever felt. Instantly all my frustrations vanished. The agonizing pain that had been crushing my pelvis between pushes, and making me push like a madwoman to keep it at bay, disappeared. I marvelled at the feeling of my baby's head slowly sinking down and pressing the smallest finger-sized bit of itself against my hand. Angelic choirs sang and white doves took flight. So here it was, the birth high.
This was what all my hard work had been for (aside from the birth itself, of course): this sudden explosion of hormones that allowed me to push forth my son into my hands without even the slightest grimace of pain, no ring of fire, no nothing. Even when his barrel chest got stuck and I had to stand up to allow the midwife to pry him out of me, I felt nothing. I sustained a small tear, and even broke my tailbone, but had no idea until shortly after the birth. This was my reward. This was what the past 12 hours of overwhelming, unbelievable intensity had been working towards. The labor had hurt like hell, but the birth itself was completely pain-free, and short of my children, it was the most amazing gift I could ever ask for.
This was perhaps at the root of many other reasons why Jameson's birth was so awful for me. I struggled to get to that point where I could work towards that reward, to get "in the zone" so I could achieve the birth high, and the hospital was too much of a buzzkill. Experienced drug users advise people who are new to them to take psychedelic drugs in a place you feel safe, with people you trust. Being at home with friends is more likely to ensure you a satisfying, spiritual experience versus being with strangers in a strange place, where you will probably succumb to a panicky, confusing trip.
That is exactly how I felt at the hospital. I shuffled around dragging my IV pole, searching for a place to hide from all the frightening things around me, so I could settle down to business and get "in the zone." I never knew how much I really did need this until my second birth, where I was finally in a place in which I could safely explore the psychedelia of labor and birth. I didn't have this the first time around, and my labor stalled, and stalled, and finally crashed and burned. Of course, there were many other factors at play as well, but could I have worked to overcome them had I felt safe? If I had not been denied access to the birth high, could I have escaped a Cesarean?
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4 comments:
With my birth quickly approaching (almost 30 weeks now, yikes!) this has been firmly on my mind. I remember before my sons induction I did have one pretty good "false" labor, and we thought my water broke. In spite of my (continuing) history of calling my mom for EVERYTHING I found even as we thought this was the "real" deal, I didn't want to. I didn't want to touch a phone, or talk to anyone besides my husband. I was happy to plop on the floor of the living room, watch a little tv, and enjoy my contractions.
Now the image that keeps popping in my head is of a cat bearing kittens. Finding a dark hidey-hole, warm and safe, quiet and alone...sounds so wonderful. I keep wondering how I need to prepare my support people (aside from my midwife, neither are doulas by any stretch) to support me...and all I can think is that without the fear and noise and bother of the hospital, I think I just want to be left the hell alone! Don't touch me, talk to me, look at me...lol.
I looked forward to it the first time, and was robbed of that experience. (And lord only knows how things would have turned out c-section wise in a home setting) I'm so looking forward to it this time!
That's a gift from the Gods and it's ours for the taking. I think every woman is capable of this experience and yet...*sigh*
When I tell people about my natural homebirth, they always ask if it hurt, and the truth is, I had hoped for the three hour orgasmic labor. Instead I got 16 hours of back labor and coupling contractions. It was the most excruciating thing I have ever experienced, when it came time to push, the only thing that kept me going was that it would hurt to much to stay- and be static. I had been discouraged, tired, and stressed (I was already 2 weeks late) but at some point in the pushing, when me midwife had me put my shaking hand between my legs to feel that wrinkly bit of my baby's head, it changed, I went into "the zone" as you call it, instead of crying out in pain and fear, I began to roar, become as powerful of a warrior as there ever was, and as he emerged, even as the midwife had to stall his entrance to the world to unwrap the cord from his neck, even as I tore a little, none of it registered like that, all I knew was the mighty rage of the river of power that flowed from me, birthing my son. As the midwife slid him up my belly, everyone asked "Is it a boy or a girl???" and all I could exclaim was "It's my baby!" I didn't even look, I was so amazed at those little eyes, looking right at me and he smiled. 6 in the morning, I felt as rejuvenated as I have ever been, giddy, high as a kite some would say.
My midwife asked me later in the morning, as I nursed little Felix, would I do it again? Had the pain been too much? I was almost shocked, I couldn't have imagined a more wonderful birth. I was so pleased, with myself, with my wonderful partner who rubbed my back with every contraction, was there with the bowl every time I vomited, so pleased with my midwife, who had been so gentle and respectful and encouraging. The zone, as you call it, is integral I think to a woman actualizing her experience. Owning it, and understanding her own exceptional being. I don't think I could have gotten there if I couldn't have felt it. Great posts!
Fantastic. Very similar to my labor at home with Casey. Just horrible terrible pain and then CREAKING BONES and feel the head and super lioness a' roaring out the mega moose giant baby. Midiwfe had to dig him out, he was one arm in front, one arm in back and all wound up in loooong cord. But when he plunked out and looked around as wise as an old alien buddha, the story was already being turned from "This is the worst someone kill me pleeeeeez" to "Oh my god I rock this was the greatest thing I ever did the universe is so different now forever"
: )
xoxoxo
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