A new family is born

Fenton's Birth Story

written by his mother

 

Fenton Edward arrived promptly on his due date, at 6:19 the morning of March 26th - despite our constant reminders and admonishment to family and friends that, like a wizard, he would "show up precisely when he means to".

 

On the afternoon of the 24th, I had felt some sharp, intense contractions while out shopping with Brandon. One I remember as being so intense and unexpected that I cried out. On Saturday evening, while watching a movie at home, I was having infrequent but increasingly strong contractions. I lost the rest of my mucous seal, with bloody show, during a “movie snack break”, and Brandon and I were excitedly distracted after our intermission was over and we returned to our movie. We had the sense that labor was imminent, but “imminent” seemed to be in the range of “over the course of the next week or so”. We had been working so hard to stay soft and flexible in our expectations of when this would happen, which I’m sure contributed to how quickly he arrived. I still didn’t feel very large, I was far from being unbearably uncomfortable, and I expected Roo to need to grow for an extra week or two like most first babies I had heard about. After losing my mucous seal, I felt a wave of panic as we were leaving the house ~11:30 pm to return our movies to the video store: I couldn’t leave until the dishwasher had been loaded. Brandon laughed when he saw what I was frantically trying to accomplish, and sobered when he saw how serious I was. We marveled on the drive to the video store that this impromptu venture out together late at night could be the end of an era.

 

Sunday morning we went to church as usual, spending longer than usual at the coffee hour. We were so excited to tell anyone who asked that we were sure he was coming soon! We went home, had lunch, and I managed to take a nap that afternoon. We had plans to go to dinner that night at Mom and Dad’s, we decided to go even though I was more uncomfortable by this time, and the contractions were regularly 8-12 minutes apart when I was resting, and 5-8 minutes apart when I was standing or walking. They were manageable in that I was able to continue talking during them, but it felt much better to get on my hands and knees and have Brandon push on my lower back, especially during contractions that came about when I was walking or standing – these were much stronger. We had a wonderful dinner, all of us excited. I was so hungry that I ate 3 pieces of fish! I had wanted to go for a walk after dinner, but I was starting to become uncomfortable while walking and thought I’d better go to bed early instead. We called our midwives to let them know that labor had begun, but that we were certain it would be a while yet. Sheli was so excited and encouraging, and was the first of the three of us to consider that Roo might come that very day. She encouraged me to do my first hibicleanse wash if I felt like it was time, and to try to wash with it about every 6 hours after that – this was how we had decided to approach my Strep + status. I felt calm and was very talkative between contractions. I went to bed ~9 pm, and by 10 it was impossible to sleep, lie comfortably and to not be on my hands and knees during contractions. I still didn’t feel very confident that my labor had firmly begun, or that it wouldn’t slowly fade soon. I got into our bathtub ~10:30-11, with Brandon pushing on my back during all contractions. Sheli had advised him to watch for when I was no longer talkative between contractions. Throughout the pregnancy, he was typically very deferential to my judgement, but that night around 11:30 he said “I really think we should call Sheli and tell her we’re coming in.” His certainty of tone was so strong, and I felt so trusting of him. I had been hesitant because I didn’t want to get there only to find that I should come back home. We spoke to Sheli ~11:30 pm, and agreed to meet at the birth center at 12:15 am. We called my sister before we left for the center, and she held us in prayer from that very moment. The ride there wasn’t unbearable, but it was uncomfortable. Most of my birth preparation had been working exploring being “out of my head” and deeper in my primitive body. I had done a lot of work with birth hypnosis and fear rituals. On the way to the birth center, I had begun invoking a birth image to help me cope with the increasing intensity. I pictured myself floating in the ocean during a hurricane, sinking myself deeper and deeper under water until I was beneath the storm. When I had shared this image with Brandon the previous day and had asked him if he thought ocean waters were calm underneath during a hurricane, he told me abut ocean fishermen who sink their boats during a hurricane because they know their boats will be safer under water. I kept repeating this in my mind: Sink the boat.

 

I don’t remember much of the overall narrative of our time at the birth center, only certain landmark moments. I remember waiting for the tub to fill and getting in, and I remember riding a few contractions on the bed and on the birthball (Brandon adds that we got out of the tub once because labor had slowed down – I don’t remember this at all). I remember, early on, a sense that something was going to come out of my rectum, but I never defecated like I expected to. A brief thunderstorm passed through during the start of our harder labor, and it was oddly comforting to see the flicker of lightening in the birth room (though I remember wondering what would happen if we lost power). I remember Brandon napping in the chair next to the tub, and being amazed that he always managed to be right behind me during my contractions, including the time that a contraction started just as he was going into the bathroom. He always seemed to just magically appear when I needed him. During contractions I was almost always slumped over the edge of the tub, eyes either covered or unfocused. Between contractions I would later stay in that position, but had started out leaning back against the tub in between contractions in order to sleep, scrambling to the side of the tub at the start of each contraction. I was incredibly thirsty during the entire labor, and Brandon constantly offered and held the water glass for me. I wasn’t hungry, but asked Sheli to bring me my snack of raisins and cheese – one of my birth fears had been feeling incapacitated with hunger and exhaustion. Sheli helped me do another hibicleanse wash about 3 am, 6 hours after my first. I remember the feeling of my water breaking just after 3 am, a powerful feeling of water exploding under water. I remember saying “I’m afraid” because I thought things were already as intense as I could manage. I briefly emerge from my trance and was surprised to see Kip had arrived and was quietly knitting with Sheli while I labored. I remember being afraid to reach down and feel Roo’s head as it emerged, and how Brandon gently guided my hand down to him, telling me that I needed to feel how alive he was. I remember being surprised by how slowly the top of his head emerged, after being surprised by how early in the labor it started to emerge. The urge to push was with me all along in various degrees, not in a definitive “2nd stage” like I expected. I’m amazed, looking back, that I never wondered how “far dilated” I was, that numbers like that seemed so irrelevant to what I was feeling and the confidence of my body. I felt my cervix dilating from the pressure of Roo’s head, and it too was wound through the whole labor and not relegated to a “stage”. When Roo’s head, the top and largest part, had emerged, I felt panic and wanting to flee from the stinging – I felt powerless, waiting several more minutes until the next contraction. Throughout my pregnancy, I had fixated a lot on fear of pushing him out too quickly and tearing. The reality was that I was trying to bring him out so slowly at this point that the midwives had to encourage me to breathe him out, to “let him go”. I have a firm recollection of how controlled my pushing was at this stage, which made me more forgiving of the tears and stitches I sustained. Brandon recently shared with me that, during later contractions, he started to quietly moan-exhale with me. He said he had done it inadvertantly once, and he felt my back relax substantially. I don't remember being aware of it, but he said he was amazed at the power it had.

 

We were speechless, shocked when I lifted our son out of the water – I couldn’t believe he was here already! I can still see how gradually he uncurled in my arms. And his cry! He wailed! He got his little foot working like a rotor and just gave us hell! It was the same little foot that had kicked so reassuringly under my right rib throughout my pregnancy, with every worry I had that I hadn’t felt it in a while. Brandon was leaning over the tub, helping me to lift him out of the water. I could hear his tears and his marvel. Both of us seemed so surprised that there was a baby at the end of this journey.

 

The placenta was a long time coming – I had a difficult time pushing out something so soft, and my body was reluctant to relax enough to let it slide out. Frankly, I was disinterested in that prize while holding Fenton. When the placenta did emerge, it was marvelously perfect, and we were so grateful to it. The midwives made a gorgeous print of it on paper, and a doula whom we’d been so blessed to meet picked it up in order to dry and capsulate it for us so that it could help me during the weeks post-partum.

 

There are so many details that I can’t capture, impressions and sensations that I can’t fit into a linear narrative: The sound of my husbands tears, the smell of my son, the sight of his eyes slowly opening and fixing directly on his parents, the softness of my midwife’s shoulder as I collapsed on her. I don’t know how to capture the power of a child, a father and a mother being given birth to in that room. I felt like a superhero, and that someone had just told me that half of the rest of the world is made up of superheroes too.