Body Snatcher / The Grand Entrance (41 1/2 weeks)

I'd say this pretty much sums up my labor.

I was not a goddess.

I was not a hero.

I was not stoic or peaceful.

I was loud and miserable and ridiculous and in a TON OF FUCKING PAIN.

And that's ok.

At around 10pm on October 25th, my contractions started. In case you've never had one, I apologize, but I can't really describe them. I guess it was like I had a big elastic band on the inside of my entire abdomen and someone was pulling it really tight for 30 seconds, then letting go slowly. And then I felt completely normal for the next few minutes. Anyway, suffice it to say, it's a very strange and disconcerting feeling. My first thought was, "I need to go to bed immediately, someone's in labor!". That was the midwife in me knowing that I needed to get to sleep ASAP because I was in for a long night. The first time mama in me wasn't ready to believe that the 'someone' was me. So I tucked in, after peeing for the umptymillionth time, and tried to sleep. HA! By 11pm they were every 3 minutes, and 2 minutes long. Liz wasn't home that night, so it was just me up in my bedroom. I started doing all the things - the squatting and getting on hands and knees and rocking and shifting and child's pose and breathing deeply etc. Eventually I called Anya (who was completely disoriented when I spoke to her and did not exude one ounce of the competent confidence one is looking for in a birth partner), and hoped that she would wake up enough to figure out she was supposed to be coming over as soon as possible. I tried the birth ball for awhile, but that was a bust. It was just uncomfortable and annoying. Then I put some music on, which, whatever, no harm/no gain. At this point I called my midwife, Lara, and just asked if she thought it sounded real. She did. Probably because half way through the question I had to put the phone down and moan a bunch. So then I called Kate and told her it was go time. I think maybe 45min passed and I called Lara back and told her I didn't know what to do and I wasn't sure what was going on. She asked if I had tried the bath. I had not. I had not even thought of that. Proof positive that you cannot midwife yourself. And so I climbed in the the tub, which had always seemed plenty big when I wasn't in labor, but was mighty small when I was. Big or small, that hot water was magical, life altering stuff. I never would have made it without it.

Oh tub at 56 Bay State, I'll never forget you!

I call this pose, The Beached Whale.

Shortly after I got in, Anya arrived. We laughed later about her feeling unsure if I would want her in the bathroom while I was stark naked in the tub. She had no idea what was in store! Kate came just a bit later, and around 3am I decided I needed to know what was going on. Lara came over and checked me and pronounced my cervix to be 5cm and 90% effaced. It was time to go. Except, I couldn't. No way, no how. Nopeitynopenopenope. Nnnnnnnnno.

Me: Nope. Can't.
Lara: You have to.
Me: I'll try, nope. No way.
Lara: We need to to get to the birth center. I don't even have gloves.
Me: GRRRRRAAAAAHHHHHH. NOPE.

Eventually I made my way, very very very slowly to the back of Kate's car. God that sucked so bad. And so does every goddamn road between Ball Square and Inman. I kept up a steady, angry rant about the goddamn potholes and the goddamn city that doesn't fix them for most of the ride. I think this was not the birth goddess mantra Kate was expecting. At 3:30am, I limped/crawled up the ramp to the birth center, full of gratitude for the lack of snow as I was kneeling and crouching on the ground with every contraction, super dignified like.

I made it up the elevator to find that the wonderful nurse-goddess, Young, had already filled up the birth tub. I almost wept at the sight of it!

This is how humans are grown in pods by aliens.

Anya keeping a close eye on my fluid intake.

The Nurse-Goddess herself, Young, listening to the heart. She was wonderful, supportive, peaceful, reassuring and kind.

I have never spent so long on one of these things.

The rest of the labor involved excruciating, inexplicable, thigh pain. And me repeatedly pointing out that, "THIS IS TERRIBLE. THIS IS SO, SO TERRIBLE." And it was.  And every hour I thought about pain meds. And every hour I remembered that that would mean leaving my precious tub, getting dressed, going across the street to the hospital, getting an IV, being strapped to a monitor, and being stuck in bed. And I would look at Young, and Anya, and Kate. And no one else was screaming, or looking frantic or concerned. So I figured I was probably ok. And so I returned to my super profound mantra about the terribleness of birth. And I rolled around on the floor. And I sat on the toilet. And I tried to do a headstand to escape the thigh pain. And I squatted. And I kneeled. And I wept and moaned. And I was loved and cared for. And I was powerful. And I did it.

And so, on the morning of October 26, 2013, Ms. Baby Girl Sommer arrived, after 30 minutes of pushing, into the loving hands of her mama and her mama's BFF, Kate. Fitting that, 4 days later, she would be named after a queeen - she was, after all, born on a throne.

 

June 2, 2016