Wiley’s Birth

 I was asleep in bed when I heard someone call, "Tress!" in a sharp voice. I awoke to find Evan fast asleep beside me, and noticed I was having some cramping. I'd been cramping nightly, but this was a little stronger. As I lay there, noticing the sensations in my body, I felt a trickle of fluid and got out of bed to investigate. A warm gush soaked my underwear and PJ pants. I cleaned up quickly and ran to tell Evan, feeling breathless and excited. “You called it,” I laughed. It washis birthday, and he’d predicted that our baby would come on his birthday since we found out I was pregnant and due only two days before.

I called one of the on call midwives, Ariana, and my mom to let them know. Then I texted the rest of the people that would be attending the birth,  and climbed back into bed on a towel to try and get some rest. I dozed on and off for an hour or so, noticing as my cramps strengthened slightly. By 7am I was too excited to sleep, and realized I was hungry, so I decided to get up and busy myself, and scarf down a meal for the long road ahead. Plus I wanted to wrap Evan’s gifts before he got up!

I was frying potatoes and chopping vegetables for a scramble when our roommate woke up for work. I asked him if he had his bag packed (as we’d discussed previously) and let him know that today was the day. He laughed, incredulous that I was up cooking breakfast, and straightening up the kitchen as my labor began. Periodically I would stop and lean against the counter, breathing through the rising sensations in my uterus. I trust my body, I reminded myself often.

My stepdad soon arrived to pick up our dogs and take them for a few days, soon followed by my mom who joined me for breakfast. When Evan woke up, I insisted he open his birthday gift before things intensified. Then he went out to get firewood, since he knew I wanted to give birth with a cozy fire lit. I also requested a chocolate milkshake. As early labor progressed, I spent a lot of time on my hands and knees, rocking my hips and leaning into my rocking chair. I was amazed by how much fluid continued to come out of me, and after some time decided to get into the shower. The warm water brought instant relief, I squatted in the shower and laid in child's pose as the water soothed my low back. After a while, I called my mom in to time the contractions for a bit - they were becoming more frequent but were still on the shorter side (around 30-45 seconds).

We communicated with Ariana every few hours - she listened to me work through a contraction, asked about timing, and if I felt like I needed support. All morning I felt ambivalent about their presence -  I was sure I had a long way to go and didn’t want everyone to come too early and be stuck sitting around for a long time - but around noon things began to intensify a bit and when we timed contractions it was clear that things had begun to ramp up. I suddenly knew with certainty that I did want their support. They were on their way, and Evan began prepping and filling the tub. By this point, my best friend and birth photographer had arrived and laid with me, stroking my neck periodically. I began to withdraw inwards, closing my eyes and moaning as the sensations mounted in my body. I felt hands on my back, pressing, and rolling tennis balls to give me relief from my aching.

The tub was filling up as the midwives arrived - it was too hot initially, I crouched as they added cool water until I could sink in and feel the heat envelop me with sweet relief. I could hear the subdued sounds of bustling all around me, but it felt far away. My step mom's presence entered my consciousness - more soft, sweet encouraging voices, hands on my neck and back. When the contractions came, I began to moan and groan through them in long exhalations. It was as though my body was the only thing that there was, the sensation consumed me entirely. When it was over I would sink back into the water and drift deeper into myself. Each time, someone would bring me water or coconut water. I’d take the metal straw blindly in my mouth, my eyes shut tight as I drifted between worlds. The contractions began to get harder, and hotter. Eventually, the tub was no longer offering relief.

With help, I climbed out and made my way to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet when suddenly there was a pop and a splash of fluid, "What the fuck was that?" I yelled out, startled. It seemed that only one of my membranes had broken that morning - the other one just followed.

I felt an increase in intensity. I was intensely uncomfortable, I was tired, I wanted to lay down. The midwives followed me into the bedroom, where they lay out pads for me to climb on. I got onto my knees, draped over a stack of pillows. When the contractions hit I would rock back into my knees, and moan, my body beginning to start pushing. My arms felt tired, but my team encouraged me to lean into the contractions, dig into the sensation and work with it. When they subsided I would collapse onto my chest on the pillows. I rolled onto my side for a while, and held my legs up, trying to figure out how to push with the contractions without losing my breath in the middle. But I was having trouble relaxing between contractions and felt out of control laying down. My midwives asked if I wanted to get onto the floor or use the squatty potty to squat down, but as I rolled over to get down off the bed, another huge contraction hit me and I pivoted back onto my knees, where I stayed for the rest of my birth.

I began to lose steam, feeling as though I'd become stuck at the same place, that all the work I was doing was going nowhere. I remember asking, “Am I even making any progress?” in exasperation. But my team assured me - each contraction was bringing my baby closer. They could see me beginning to open up. With their coaching, I began to figure out how to dig into the contraction and push with it, catch a breath, push some more, and finally to get three or even four pushes in each time. Martine, the student midwife, described it like coming up for air while swimming, and with her encouragement I started to get into a rhythm. The pushes felt like they were building upon one another - the first one was hard and uncomfortable, the second one would begin to feel productive, and if I could get to the third breath and roar into it, I felt like progress was being made.

Eventually they encouraged me to reach back and feel the baby's head begin to emerge. I didn't want to - the effort felt Herculean - but when I did it felt suddenly more real.  I roared in great guttural cries and rocked back on my heels. Evan was beside me, holding my hand and encouraging me and I squeezed into his hand with everything I had. I felt myself begin to stretch around the head, an urgent burning sensation that my midwives coached me through. The pushing became increasingly urgent but increasingly hard - each break from pushing brought little relief because of the immense bursting sensation, the almost unbearable fullness of my pelvis. My team began to urge me on more and more enthusiastically, I felt the anticipation and excitement rising in the room. Once I had the head out, the body would slip right out, they told me, be ready to grab the baby up from between my legs. I screamed the head out, immediate relief rushing over me as it passed, but no baby was passed up. I tried to look behind me in confusion, but was urged to give a few more pushes - it felt like there was nothing left to push out in comparison to the intense bursting pain of the head but I grunted into the contractions as they came and a few moments later a slippery body with a bluish face and a hugely contorted head was handed up to me.

I could barely understand what had happened, but I caught a glimpse of his testicles, confirming my intuition that he was a boy, as I brought him to my chest and they began to rub him with warm blankets. Talk to your baby, they told me - I could hardly believe he was mine as I looked down into his inky, alert eyes. He began to murmur and then cry as I gushed at him, his bluish color quickly brightening into healthy pink. I couldn't believe his eyes - he looked right at me with such clear intensity. I'd never seen anything so important in all my life.

I was in a haze of disbelief and wonder as I rolled to my back with him draped across my body. The midwives urged me to push out my placenta, and I tried but nothing came at first. They helped me tug it loose with some more pushes. I tried to focus on my baby but was a little worried as I began to watch the pads beneath me fill with blood. The midwives worked fast, serious and composed. They assured me that while this was a lot of blood, it was within normal and they quickly administered a shot of Pitocin into my thigh, and then another when the bleeding continued. Leslie instructed me to let my body know that the time to stop opening up. I was okay. And I'd brought an incredibly large, redheaded baby into this world. When the bleeding slowed, we stared and stared at our baby boy, and we laughed at his immense size. They’d thought his body would just slip out, but he had just kept coming and coming - all twenty three inches of him!

The birth team stayed long after Wiley was born. Everything that followed was a euphoric blur. Snuggling my baby skin to skin, first attempts at breastfeeding, the newborn exam, lots of laughter… Our wonderful midwives brought us a platter of snacks and a birthday candle - and we sang not only to our new baby boy, but to his dad, as well. The two of them got skin to skin time, and Wiley had his first poop - all over dad’s chest! After the newborn exam, Ariana stitched me up (no fun), and they did a marvelous clean up job.

And when everyone left, we were home together, snuggled up as a family. With our baby, in our bed. I couldn't believe how beautiful he was. I couldn't believe I did it. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done, but I couldn’t imagine it any other way.

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