(this is the view I have from house in Bolinas on Jan.29th 2011, late afternoon)
January 29th 2011, I wake up, the sky is grey, it's drizzling outside. First rain in about 3 weeks. Today, I tell myself, is going to be a special day. I'm going to work on my Birth Art and envision my fantasy/ideal birth, as one of the birth preparation class assignments instructed. I must make this day serene and sacred.
I take a shower, wash my body thoroughly, put on some nice clothes, a white sweater and a white scarve. Purity.
I'm alone, with baby in womb, and it's perfect.
At some point in the day, I end up sketching my fantasy birth: I'm in a clear meadow, by a river, surrounded by tall beautiful trees of a dense forest. I'm unassisted, by all my spiritual sisters are forming a large circle nearby to support and hold us, baby and me, and to intervene if needed. Labor starts late in the evening. Rushes get progressively more intense, but I'm surrendering and riding each one of them, opening and howling with the wolves, also supporting me. I melt with all of nature in and around me. It's not pain, it's the force of life at its highest frequency, working through me.
Finally, baby is born at dawn... He's perfect. And so am I...
I'm not finished with my drawing, but I feel the need to move. Didn't go out for a walk today because of the rain. I put on some music and start dancing. Now I'm tired. I'll finish my drawing tomorrow. I wash up and finally lie down in bed.
Suddenly, just a few minutes after, around 9:30pm, a wave of contraction-expansion runs through my body and concentrates in my lower abdomen... A few minutes later, another one, and another a little more intense and...This is it I feel. I get up and call Freda (my doula and roommate) and let her know I think it's time. I call Mother, she knows it's time. I call Umar, baby's daddy. He knows. I call Shura, the midwife. She advises me to continue my labor at home for a bit, and time the rushes.
When Freda arrives, I'm leaning on the ladder to the loft.
Shortly after, I'm lying on the floor, opening up, riding the rushes as they pass through me (I use Ina May's term "rushes" instead of contractions because it did feel more like a contracting and expanding motion than just a contraction) . Freda reminds me to open my mouth, loosen my jaw and breathe, breathe, breathe... Leaning on the chair, sitting on the toilet, leaning against Freda, standing in the door frame holding on to both sides, lying back down, getting in the shower... dancing every way I know of and that feels right as the rushes get more and more intense and frequent, singing low tones to soothe the motions. (Freda reports later that during a distinct period, I even sounded like an opera singer).
At some point, on the floor, a different kind of rush kicks in. This time, my breath is cut off, I feel like all my insides are about to be expelled out of me. After about a minute, the wave passes. But every rush after that is similar, and more intense. My uterus is pushing, insisting, persisting. My mucus plug is expelled. I go in the shower, maybe it'll calm down I think. But the body wants to continue, and that baby wants to come out, no slowing down! I don't know what to do, maybe I'm not as brave as I thought I was, I tell Freda. She reassures me I'm doing great...
It's time to go to the Birth Center in San Francisco. I know it. I am anticipating the bumpy ride out of Bolinas and over the curvy hill to the city... Can I do this?? Freda gets me in the car - my Kia 2003 - , front passenger seat. She laid a towel on the seat and has a blanket in the back. She also has the video camera, some food, a dozen bottles of fluids, a change of clothes, my ipod doc and my ipod. I had a certain "plan" in mind for the birth...
As soon as we start driving, the rain gets heavier, the rushes get more intense. It's dark, the rain is pouring, the holes in the dirt road are torturous, and at every rush, I lift my bottom off the seat using my arms to push myself up. I can do this. One rush at a time. I can do this. Freda is concentrated, calm and present as she's driving through the pouring rain.
We're now in Stinson Beach (about 15 minutes from Bolinas), and hail starts coming down. And my body continues its urge to explode from inside out, probably every minute now. At some point I feel baby's very close to exiting. We're on the cliff road on Highway 1, past Stinson beach, hail and rain are crashing on the road and on the windshield. An overwhelming rush takes over my whole body, and as I lift my bottom off the seat, I feel this huge explosion, and...crak!
Me "Oh my God! It's coming out!"
Freda: "Are you sure??
She pulls the car over and tells me to open the door and squat, sitting on the side of the car by the door and push the rest of the baby out. I just barely have time to open the door; baby comes out entirely on the seat, letting out a cry right away, and Freda is at the door just on time to pick him up.
Me: "What do I do now??
Freda: "Take your nightgown off and just lay him on your chest!"
I lay my baby on my chest, he's crying! He's breathing! A minute or two later, I realize I still don't know the sex. I put my hand between his legs...It's a boy!
Freda puts a blanket over the two us, gets back in the car, and turns the heat on high.
Freda: "I think we have a flat tire."
Me: "What??? Are you serious??"
False alarm, the car is fine. She thought she had popped a tire because of the way the car has been handling just before pulling over and the sound of the car driving on the hail stones. That would've been the cherry on the cake. But at that point, it doesn't even seem like a big deal; I feel so happy, so serene, so relieved. I'm smiling. Baby's fine, I feel it, I know it.
Freda starts the car. I position baby to give him my breast. He finds it in seconds and about a minute later he latches on and is drinking. We're back on the road, heading towards the Birth Center. It's around 5:30am (Freda figures out later on that the time of birth was 5:26). The hail has stopped, it's still raining some, but everything inside and out seems to have suddenly calmed down. About 20 minutes later, a final strong rush pushes baby's placenta out of my body in one piece. Freda tells me to place it on my chest, a little higher than the baby so that the blood can continue coming through the umbilical cord to the baby. I think how lucky I am and how safe I feel being with Freda. I'm impressed with her calmness and her presence throughout the whole thing.
The both of us laugh the rest of the way to the birth center, still completely bewildered by what just happened. I feel so happy. I call Mother to let her know. She's panicked but I reassure her that everything is perfectly fine. And it is! I call Umar in Guinea who's absolutely thrilled and screaming with joy. And I also call Shura, the midwife, who can't believe what I'm telling her.
We pass the Golden Gate Bridge, the night is clearing out. I'm so happy. I'm nude, covered in blood, placenta and baby and the blanket. I feel raw, perfect, and exactly where I need to be. I feel so, so happy...
We park at Sage Femme Midwery Service birthcenter's private garage. Shura opens my door, hands me the scissors. I cut the cord.
Addendum:
Got a few stitches done at the Birth Center. My perineum suffered a 2 degree tear, but not too serious.
Baby had a little bump on his eyebrow from the impact against the passenger's seat, but gone in a day. Baby weight: 8lbs 13 oz
Baby size: 20 1/2 ".
Perfectly healthy and happy.
