My (Positive) Natural Birth Story

“Again and again, motherhood demands that we break through our limitations, that we split our hearts open to make room for something more than we thought we could bear. In that sense, the labor with which we give birth is simply a rehearsal for something we mothers must do over and over: turn ourselves inside out, and then let go…” Susan Piver

It has been nearly two years since my daughter’s birth, and the memory of that day still feels as fresh and vivid as the moment I held her that first time. My birth, while erotic, exciting, and absolutely empowering, was nothing like I had planned. The days leading up to it are all hazy now. We spent them cleaning, organizing, and love making, and I realize now that my version of nesting is most likely the culprit behind our premature labor. I remember feeling utterly and absolutely in love with my partner and constantly aroused. While I couldn’t help but daydream about what our future would look like together, I did my best to stay present and enjoy having my partner to myself. Pregnancy is a subtle dance between two realms; it’s savoring the moment while at the same time wishing it away. I wanted more than anything to have my daughter in my arms, but I thoroughly enjoyed being pregnant as well.

My daughter was born at 36+2, five days before my midwife would go on call for a month. It was Holy Week, and we were eager to escape the hustle and bustle of the festivities and relax at the beach. The morning we left for our trip was hectic. I can still see myself holding my belly as we hurried to catch our train (08:00). I experienced my first waves there bumping along to our destination, but they weren’t painful at all. I was certain they were Braxton-Hicks, but after experiencing nine in an hour I had my doubts.

When we organized our trip, it made sense for us to take our time getting there since I’d be well into my third trimester. Because there isn’t a direct train from where we live, we decided to linger a while after our first stop. After train one, things slowed down some; my waves were still irregular and walking felt good (10:30). We explored the market, ate breakfast at the quaintest café, and wandered around my old neighborhood. It was nearing midday and the rushes picked up in intensity, so we rested in the park and called our midwife, who happened to be on vacation as well. She wasn’t convinced I was in labor, but she urged us to get our destination as quickly as possible for me to rest. She also recommended Arnica and a few herbs to help slow things down.

The second train was only thirty minutes, but it seemed to go on forever (15:30). I was the most uncomfortable I had been and was eager to get to the house. When we got there, my partner went to the kitchen to prepare lunch and my infusion, and I headed straight for the bedroom in the back (16:30). It felt impolite not to socialize with his family and thank them for leaving us their apartment, but I needed to lie down. I fell asleep briefly before an intense rush forced me to my feet (19:00). I went into the living room, where my partner was sitting, to tell him what was happening and we chatted for a while, still doubtful that I was truly in labor. I drank more tea and for the next hour or so I felt like myself again (19:30).

The sun was beginning to set and the stores would be closing soon, so my partner left to stock up on groceries for the holiday (20:00). He assured me that he’d be back as soon as possible and rushed off, leaving me alone on the couch. Twenty minutes went by and the waves started back where they left off. By the time he returned, I was moaning and swaying on all fours between ever so frequent trips to the bathroom (21:00). I had to poop five or six times! The last time I went, I noticed a tiny spot of blood on the toilet tissue moments before losing part of my mucus plug. I think that’s when we accepted that baby was coming and really started to dive deep into the laboring process.

It was becoming more and more difficult to stand, walk around, or do anything other than be in my body. I moved from the living room, the floor, and the couch many times when my partner suggested a shower. The water wouldn’t stay hot and I remember feeling angry and frustrated. It was the only time I yelled. I got out of the water almost immediately and tried hanging on my partner and then the door. I knew I was in transition, because I couldn’t stand on my feet and I wanted to escape. Nothing I did helped. It wasn’t until I fully surrendered to birth did I start to feel better. I walked to end of the dimly lit hall, got on all fours, and sunk into my body. My baby and I were in sync and working together, and before long I started to bear down and push. I called my partner over to me, because I could feel something bulging out. It was my amniotic sac. He called the midwife right away to ask for baby-friendly hospital recommendations in the area and then a taxi (23:00). When the taxi didn’t show, he called an ambulance.

When the EMTs arrived, I was fully immersed in myself and they pulled me out of it (23:20). They needed me to get on the bed in order to check my progress, but I didn’t want to move. I was comfortable and their presence during waves felt like a nuisance. They realized right away that I was complete and asked me if I preferred to have my baby at the house or try to make it to the hospital. Because we weren’t at our home with our midwife, I chose the hospital. The waves were intense and I needed to push, but I tried my best to hold her in as long as I could.

When we got to the hospital, they took me directly to a labor and delivery room, where I was greeted by three midwives (00:00). They were frantically trying to prepare themselves and asking questions about my pregnancy, since they didn’t have my records. I felt anxious and tense trying to remember the details of my prenatal care and recite it all to them in Spanish. My partner later told me that most of what I said came out as a grunt. I had no other choice but to turn inward and give my body the attention it demanded. I couldn’t answer them. I couldn’t speak at all. They thought to prepare an IV with antibiotics, but there wasn’t time for anything. Our baby was born within twenty minutes of our arrival.

I turned around on the gurney and threw my arms over the back of the bed, allowing, it to support my weight as I breathed through it all. One of the midwives grabbed a doppler and pressed it into my stomach, but I pushed her away. I needed to be free and unrestrained. I didn’t like being touched at all. I could feel her head emerge and it brought with it a burning sensation, and I started to cry. I thought about stopping, but my baby reminded me of my strength. My partner told me that he could see her dark hair, and she felt even closer. I pushed with the waves, using them to carry me to her. We were swimming together. Another push and she slid out crying (00:20)!

I re-positioned myself on the bed to hold my daughter, and time stood still. I remember being surprised by how well I could see and smell everything during and after birth. She was so clear! I held her on my chest basking in the energy of it all, and within a few minutes of her birth I delivered the placenta. The midwives noticed that there was a piece missing and tried their best to remove it (ouch!), but after many attempts I opted for medication. I handed our baby over to my partner and he held her skin to skin while they removed the rest. The whole ordeal took about ten or so minutes. Afterward, I held my baby once again and she showed interest in nursing right away. The nurse on call helped me position her on my chest to get things started. Once we were alone and settled it hit us that we were now officially a family of three.