birth junkie

this is a term of endearment, really. ya'll know who you are. just like me. i crave birth stories. there's something to be said about the power there. that fine line of life on the edge, life pushing forward, life embraced fully by your true spirit.

so, there's been a show of interest in people actually wanting to read what i wrote for that book, and so i'm posting it today. i don't know what took me so long. i guess i still considered it mine, and although i talk about it alot, birth is so very private and sacred. and well, to put it all into words for others to read (others who could possibly leave me a comment about something so private, when you're reading about the very insides of me) was a tad bit scary to me. but now that these words will be published, i figured it's as good a time as any to share this intimate part of myself here on this blog.

release and trust. that's my lesson.

i wrote this the day after river was born. so, you'll notice that it's pretty longwinded...well, over 20 hours of labor is longwinded too! but, i can't imagine deleting a single word, so here it is:

Homebirth

Feb. 10, 2005.
5 am wake up... is it happening? It's happening. Dreaming hallucinations between contractions. I lay in bed and pretend to sleep. 7 am comes and I call my midwife, Laurie, and we talk. I watch the sunrise over the Colorado River, the waterway that has flooded my home twice during this pregnancy. The sunrise this morning is a pink and blue sky. It beckons me down to the water. "All in time" I say, I need to save up my strength. I crawl back in bed beside Kenny and sleep til 9 am.

I just can't sleep anymore, my contractions are now three minutes apart. I get up and make bacon and eggs for breakfast, we eat a feast in bed. A big meal will hopefully give me strength for the work ahead of me. I call my mom's cellphone (the call she's been waiting for) and I get her voicemail! "We're gonna have a baby today." Then I call their house to reach my dad (the call he's been waiting for) and I get their answering machine! "We're gonna have a baby today."

After breakfast I walk outside and down to the water. The grass is still muddy from all the rain so I'm careful with my step. There's a sycamore stump down there at the bank of the water that we use as a stool, but today I get my knees on the earth and lean forward on it. Looking down into the water, I see that it's moving so fast. I call out to the Universe "Please give me strength, watch over me and the baby. Let us work together as a team to get this job done. Please help me to reflect all the beauty I feel inside."

I'm on my knees for about fifteen minutes watching the river flow as the cool raindrops tap on my back and shoulders. I waddle back through the mud to our porch swing which actually sits in our side yard. I rock myself gently and get a visit from the neighbors dog. He comes running over and sniffs me. I wonder if he knows what's going on in my body today. Now I feel ready to go inside, I'm getting excited for the unknown.

I start tidying up the house, sweeping the floors, doing the dishes, and cleaning the bathroom. I've started having a little bloody mucous show. Laurie and I talk every two hours. She'll be in her yoga class from 11-1 pm and I doubt that I will need her that soon. I start baking cupcakes for the birth day party. It takes my mind off things and every now and then I feel a good strong rush of energy which makes me grab the kitchen counter and lean real hard into it.

By 1 pm I'm itching for the phone, I'm ready to talk to Laurie again. The contractions are about two minutes apart and feeling more intense, lasting 30-40 seconds. I can still walk and talk through them though, and we chat for a little while before hanging up. I'm losing my focus, "Are there cupcakes in the oven? Where'd I put my oven mitt?"

By 2 pm I'm done with baking and I go searching for some good music. I've set aside a stack of CD's that I wanted to labor with, but none of them look appealing right now. I throw in a Ben Harper CD and it gets me through my cleaning fit. The second to last song just seems to click with me.

It's 3 pm now and I put his one song "Witness" on repeat: "I am blessed, I am blessed, I am blessed..." The rhythm, the words, rock with me on all fours with my head in the pillow of the rocking chair.

A watch in one hand, I turn my face to the side and breathe it all out for those 40 seconds. The space in between is so enjoyable, almost decadent to feel that relief. There's so much relief in the spaces between that I doubt another contraction will come, until I feel it creep up. Looking at my watch, sure enough it's every two minutes on the dot. Mother Nature amazes me.

Kenny's been outside working off nervous energy - clearing out flood damage and debris from under our house on stilts. He's chopping wood. I hear the chain saw every now and then, and then the ax splitting firewood in our side yard. I wish he would come back inside but he's in his world, I'm in mine. We'll find each other soon.

I must've been face down in that rocker for over two hours. I turn to look out the back windows and I see the sky changing colors, getting ready for a sunset. I tell myself, "Soon it will be dark and Kenny will be inside."

My body has been opening up all day. I'm vaguely curious and slightly scared to know how far I'm dilated. That number will be the gauge for where I've been and where I still need to go. "I am blessed,I am blessed, I am blessed...." The sun sets pink and orange. I hear Kenny's steps up the stairs. He tries to talk to me in his mellow way, "Hey, how's it going?" I just can't find any words to bridge that gap. He looks at me, but doesn't know where I am, where I've been. That scares him a little. Life becomes very real in that moment for him. "Should we call Laurie?" He asks somewhat insistently. I am nowhere to be found, he can't reach me in this contraction. He calls out to me nervously, not sure what is happening. "... Meredith?"

He helps me time a contraction so I have some information to give her. They are still every two minutes apart, now lasting 1 minute long. I go to sit on the toilet, I've been bleeding a little bit all day. A contraction traps me on the toilet just as Kenny is talking to Laurie. It must be 6 pm? Kenny calls out to me, barely knocking on the wall of the mind space I've entered. "Do you want Laurie to come out?... Meredith?" I find some words finally saying desperately, "I don't know, I don't know!" I've never done this before! I don't know what i need!

By the time I pull myself off the toilet, Kenny tells me she's on her way. That's a huge relief. I assume my position again on the rocking chair while Kenny makes a fire in the wood stove.

Laurie and Meredith, her midwife assistant, arrive maybe around 7:30pm. We live pretty remote out on the banks of the Colorado River. I wonder how fast they are driving. I think of all the flooding, and how far we've come through these 41 weeks of pregnancy.

I'm still rocking on my knees when they come up the stairs greeted by the dogs barking. Laurie says, "Hey - you have that look in your eyes!" And I think the same with her, I'm so glad they're both here. The spaces in between the contractions are so pleasant. Again, it makes me question if i'm really in labor. I'm wondering how far along I've dilated. During the spaces between, I fluctuate between hostess and primate. Laurie asks if I want to be checked... she said that they took their guesses in the car ride out here. I told her I was scared, afraid I'd only be 1 cm dilated, and all day long would have been for nothing. I confessed my worries that I had called them out here too soon, that it would take three days to have this baby. She laughs and says, "I bet you're more than 1 cm and less than 10cm!"

I'm relieved to hear that I'm almost 7 cm dilated! That is my gauge - it tells me where I've been. And I'm over halfway there. I go back to my rocker, knowing that I can do this. I hear them bustling around the house, setting up everything they need. Kenny inflated the tub and started boiling water on the wood stove and kitchen range. I remember seeing them sideways walking around my house from my view face down in the pillow of the rocking chair.

The spaces between allow me to get up and put in that chakras CD I got from my brother. It's primal and helps me get inside myself and find my monkey brain. I grip my quartz in one hand and blow deep and hard through the pain blowing out making my lips real loosey goosey. Somehow the tub is ready for me and I want to get in it. I'm up with kenny wondering what I should wear. I don't want to be naked just yet. I put on a tank top and Kenny helps me into some of his shorts. I remember voicing my concerns about the shorts getting ruined. This was one of the strangest, most surreal conversations I've ever experienced.

The tub feels so good. I want to lean back into it and really relax but it hurts to lean back with the baby's head pressing directly on my spine. Posterior. So I'm on my knees leaning over the edge of the tub. Laurie and Meredith settle in with their books, real mellow. I'm still wondering if I called them over too soon. Later I see Meredith napping in the chair, and I wonder what time it is. I've been lost. Kenny's sitting beside me on the outside of the tub. It really helps to hold his hand and squeeze the fatty part of his palm by his thumb. It is actually exactly what i need, and only that. It's so important for his hand to be there that I won't let him leave. When I feel the contraction climbing up on me, I stick my hand into th world outside the tub, and every time I reach for him, his hand is there for me. It has to be. I squeeze and squeeze like I'm about to kick his ass at a thumb wrestling match.

In and out of it - split personality. My arms are wet hanging outside the tub and I feel our dog, Roscoe licking the water off me. I sense that he is worried. I have this strong feeling of simply being overwhelmed and the tears come pouring down my face. Someone gets a cold washcloth and Kenny puts it on my face so tenderly. "I need tissues" I cry, so vulnerable. I am so completely overwhelmed. Somehow feeling unprepared like I'm barely holding on with my finger tips and the ride is about to start. I close my eyes and cry some more. Laurie starts singing, in this low calm tone, these beautiful words. And then Meredith joins in and I feel their words enter my body. And my body listens to them because my head and my ears are someplace else. "I am opening, I am opening to the beautiful baby in my womb." It is so soothing and my body believes their words and opens up.

Leg cramps, sore ankles. I want to lean back but it hurts. Squeezing Kenny's hand, I feel I'm about to throw up. And out it comes into our blue camping pot. Split personality throwing up. I feel like I'm tripping. Spitting out puke, being grossed out by it, yet so ape-like on the other side of my brain. I felt these two sides working at the same time and I felt as if I was losing my mind. I throw up once more and my logical brain thinks, "This is what happens at transition, I've read about this." And then my monkey brain grunts for my logical side to shut the hell up. Coyotes call from just outside the back window. I open my eyes to meet Kenny's gaze, knowingly.

Leg cramps so bad I feel too big for the tub, like what I'm doing, what I am about to do is just too big for the tub. I am as big as the universe, and how can the universe fit into this tub? How does that work? I thought the only way I could give birth was in the safety of water. My body is pushing on its own now and I'm not sure what to do about it. Something was taking over my body's reflexes. Someone suggested that I stand up and get grounded on the Earth and I wonder, "Where are my bones? How can I possibly stand?"

I must stand up. I feel Kenny put my arms around his neck and he pulls me to my feet. It feels so good to touch him - belly to belly. I put my face into his shoulder and I feel things shift downwards. I can feel something in between my legs. It's happening now. I literally hang on Kenny's neck and I feel my feet off the ground. I groan like the earth creaking, splitting open. It feels so good to be touching Kenny that I could stay like this all night.

Somehow the birth chair is here and I'm being helped to it. I'm delirious. I don't think i will like it, but I don't have the words to voice my concerns. I don't want to lean back, it hurts more. I don't want Kenny to see too much. I am now helping my body push, but I don't know quite yet how to push.

It's so completely overwhelming and I try to keep it inside and breathe through it instead of forcing it out. I hear Laurie ask me "What's going on?" And I say out loud, "I'm scared. I'm gonna break in half and I'm scared."

I remember all this time my eyes are closed and I want to tell Kenny to do the same. Where did these issues come from? How can I let them go and give in? I hear Roscoe crying from somewhere in the room. I want to tell Kenny not to look, I don't want him to see too much and have it ruin his perception of me. Damn my insecurities! He's behind me now, and I feel his strong arms, his biceps in my hands. I pull down on them, drawing his energy out into my hands, through my body, and out with each push. My arms are raised and my head is leaning on some part of his body. I can feel his strength in his muscles. I'm in and out of it, my brain is shutting down after 20 hours of back labor. I'm trying to push but I'm still scared. I hear my ears ringing and I can feel my head lolling from side to side. Then suddenly I open my eyes. I was gone! I had left my body! I felt the draw, the pull, almost like a suction back into myself, and the fact that I was gone scared the shit out of me. I thought to myself so strongly, "I have to be here now! Get strong, NOW!"

We were getting so close to it, I screamed outloud, "My hips!" I feel the spread of bones and my legs jump. Meredith tells me the baby is moving through my hips and pelvis. They both reassure me that I am wide enough to birth this baby, "Remember Ina May..." And I know it's true, I know they are right. The pressure is unbelievable. I felt unprepared for it. I had jumped on this crazy ass ride without my seat belt and now we were going so fast I just had to believe and trust in it all. With each push I can really feel the baby coming. "You can feel the baby's head if you want" Laurie says, reaching for my hand to put between my legs, but I couldn't be brought back into the logical side. To touch flesh. I was so far inside that it wouldn't have made sense to me. "I can see the baby's hair!" Laurie says. And I laugh out loud in between the pain "It has hair!" I cry. I was wondering if my baby would be bald, and here it is, now it is known, with the baby nearly out of me. I feel warm compresses and it helps to relax these muscles working over time, it loosens my skin that is stretching to birth this baby. Laurie says "I can't wait to find out if it's a girl or boy!" It's getting so intense I want this baby out of me "Come on!" I plead "Please please COME OUT! I want the baby OUT of me!"

My breathing is sporadic, I can hear it like it's someone else's. I lose my breath and feel like I'm choking on air. I hear Kenny talking me through it. "Loose mouth" he reminds me as he rubs my jaws. "Breathe in, breathe out" he reminds me, and I follow his words, finding myself again because of him. In the spaces between I feel the cool breeze from a wet washcloth. He is fanning me and wiping my face. Then the burning arrives. "It burns!" I sound surprised. I'm confused and am still not sure what I am doing. I don't want to tear, I am being overly conscious. "Tell me what to do" I beg of Laurie,
looking, searching desperately for guidance. With each push they tell me how to push. Hard, slow, steady. It comes to the crowning, and I don't want to go slow. At this point, I don't care if I tear all the way open, I just want this baby out of me now! I don't remember the final push or if the head was out for a second before the shoulders, I just felt the whoosh.

The life flow entered the room in that instant. The crying and the release. The relief, the sheer happiness. I remember feeling Kenny's arms and how loose he got in that same instant. All our energy had gone to the baby who was now out in our living room. I cry out loud, big laughing sobbing cries like I've never allowed myself to cry before. I am happy and my baby is on me wrapped in a towel. I knew upon his cry that he was a boy without even looking. His eyes met mine and his hair was so dark and his little fingers took all my attention. It was kenny who said through tears, "It's a boy!" And we shared kisses all around, and he said again "It's a boy!" He is beautiful. born at 2:30 am February 11, 2005.

I didn't even feel the placenta deliver, but somehow now I am flat on my back on our hallway floor holding my baby. I'm so happy even though he's screaming wrapped in a white towel. I felt the energy in the room, it got real serious and I was delirious, I was going in and out of my mind again. Hearing them talk but not knowing or caring what was going on. I had my baby! That was all that I cared about in that moment.

Then I hear Laurie's voice real stern talking to me, calling me back into the room. "Meredith, your losing alot of blood..." she fades away and I try to pay attention. She's talking about my uterus falling, and then she was inside of me with her forearm and hand, and it hurt so badly. I hear her saying "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Meredith is massaging my belly, they are working so fast and methodically. "It hurts so bad!" I cry out, and I hear myself talking myself down... "It's ok, it's ok, please, please..."

They are working so furiously, and I am holding my newborn. Laurie keeps asking me, "How's your head?" and I say I'm fine, but I don't really understand her question. I wonder if I'm the best option for holding my son right now. I am so overly aware of him on me, of me staying present to keep him safe. I hear Laurie talking again about my uterus, it won't contract. And so clear in my mind is a conversation with the universe, or God, our creator, or what ever you call that pure energy... "Just take it out, I don't need my uterus anymore,. I have my baby now. I need to be here. I need to be here for him." I'm not making any sense, the situation doesn't make sense to me. How is this happening? I see Laurie's arm outstretched and bloody, her hands are gloved and covered in blood. I'm becoming aware that this is very serious. I can sense Kenny's concern about my pale skin and my blue lips. I'm hooked up to an IV bag of clear solution. It's pitocin - to help my uterus contract and stop the hemorrhaging.

How long did I lay there with my baby screaming? Trying to get him to latch on and start suckling, he won't stop screaming. My legs are shaking and I feel crampy. "It's the pitocin, crampy is good" Laurie reassures me, and I hear myself repeat it as a comfort. "It's good, it's good." I'm convincing myself to believe her.

Much later it seems, now it's time to move me to the bed. I need to remain horizontal, so they put a sheet under me to transport me to our bed in the next room. The energy in the room has lifted and the air is light with love. Grateful Dead plays on the stereo, Laurie is singing along. "Bertha, don't ya come around here, no more." Meredith is giving me remedies in my mouth. "Swallow this." She sounds like a doctor and I obey like a thankful patient. Happy just to be here. Happy to feel pain and relief because that is what is called being alive. Laurie tells me that it's normal to lose about 2 cups of blood in a hemorrhage, I had lost three times that amount.

While they put me on the sheet to move me to the bed, Kenny holds our son still attached to the placenta. The instant he's in Kenny's arms, he stops crying - and my mind registers that - in total happiness. I'm lifted onto the bed and it feels so soft, I feel so much better. Kenny cuts the umbilical cord at 4:20 am and they check out our baby and take notes and measurements. Laurie gets out the scale, they had been taking guesses but Laurie surprises herself. "Holy crap! 9lbs 11ozs!" Meredith remarks with a big smile, "You got some generous hips, Momma!" And I beam with pride in my beautiful baby boy, River Malakai.

Laying in bed the tears fall as I realize how truly blessed I am. The love just overwhelms me and I am so thankful to be here, to have my beautiful baby and my strong husband. I feel both empowered and humbled. This powerful force of nature - I am awed in its presence. Awed by its sheer strength and I am humbled to find that it lives inside of me. This strength of the Universe that I thought was other, is really Self.