This following is my second labour story. It is completely uncensored, though entirely positive. There are photos, though none very graphic; there is blood, and not a considerable amount of clothing, so be prepared for that. First is my perspective, with Todd’s following.
Lindsay:
My due date was September 23. This being a second baby, and my first coming right on schedule, I figured he’d be a couple of days early, and that we’d have a “4 hour” labour (though whether that was 4 hours total, or 4 hours plus, say 5 hours of mild labor first, I couldn’t say). Baby often felt low to me during pregnancy, so I would say that he was just going to “fall out” during labour.
Unlike my first pregnancy, where I’d only had Braxton-Hicks contractions a few times the week or two before Gwendolyn was born, I had been having them for weeks. Then, at about 38 weeks, I began experiencing intermittent prodromal labour. Basically, I would have level 4-5 (on my personal pain scale) tightening that could go on for hours, at regular intervals. I knew I wasn’t in labour, because—with the exception of the occasional, one-off blip—it never got any more intense; and it would usually stop being regular after a couple of hours. At my last appointment with my midwife, she had said she had often woken to prodromal labour, it lasted 1-2 hours, then she could go back to sleep. Luckily, mine hadn’t effected my sleep yet, though I had had a couple of days where I really wondered if it was the real deal.
The night before I went into labour, I went into a panic. I was worried I hadn’t prepared enough. My wise doula suggested at one of our prenatal meetings that perhaps my fear was precisely because I knew kind of what it would be like, and I think she was right. I felt so riled up that, once my prodromal labour mostly subsided, I got off the couch at 11 pm, and tidied the entire house—“just in case”. Just when I had thoguht I had no intuition in this pregnancy…
Tuesday morning, September 17, 2019, I awoke at 4:50 am to surges. Or maybe prodromal labour—I wasn’t sure. It was odd that my bed cat, Wendy, was cuddled right next to me. As a general rule, she only does that (with a flicky tail, too) when she’s begging. To be glued to me for no reason seemed a bit odd. The surges were relatively strong, and I was planning on a slow build up (a kumbaya with Todd, a desire to shave, and put on makeup…), like I had with my first, so this seemed to just be my first nighttime prodromal waking. I got out my contraction counter app anyway, and mostly just dealt with them in child’s pose.
After a while, I realized that if this were real labour, I was pretty hungry, so I should get something to eat. I headed downstairs to make a hearty oatmeal, but was feeling like this may actually be the real deal, so I texted my mom, since the time difference might give me someone to talk to (I was obviously going to let Todd sleep as long as possible, so one of us wouldn’t be tired later). We chatted on the phone while I made oatmeal—slowly. I kept having contractions, and they were making me have to pause with each one. Oatmeal, in the microwave. Banana. Peanut butter. Toasting walnuts. By the time I was eating, I was having to learn on the counter, and sway my hips in a semi-circle to get through them. I told my mom the pain scale was 8/10. But I was still breathing through them alright! However, I was a bit concerned—as I’d only been up less than an hour—that I wouldn’t be able to handle it later.
My phone was dying, so I headed upstairs once I finished my oatmeal. On the way, it died, and my mom was just left to wait. Once my phone was plugged in, I continued using my contraction counter, as I had this whole time, and I decided (after being up for 1.5 hours), that I should probably wake Todd. “I think I’m in labour?” That wakes a person up.
I went to the bathroom, and sat on the toilet. It helped during the surges for a few minutes, but once it stopped helping, I felt like I needed assistance through the surges. At this point, our bustling about woke Gwendolyn up. We told her I was in labour, and she got very excited. It was cute. But, also, having an enthusiastic toddler running about at this point was not super ideal. I had Todd press on my back through surges, and call the birth team when they stopped. Perhaps it was simply fatigue, or just the fact that things were going so quickly, but I wasn’t even sure we should tell everyone to come. I was probably real labour—but what if it wasn’t? At least it was after 6 am, so that was less annoying.
Todd called our midwife, Katia, and our doula, Katie, twice each, I think. The first time to inform, the second time a few minutes later to say, “Yeah, okay, Lindsay does think you should be here.”
As we headed downstairs, I said, “Well, I guess we should get the plants in the basement.” To which Todd basically responded with ‘duh’. It was my dream to have all my houseplants down there in the stark birth room to add a touch of life-giving atmosphere to the space. All three of us went to the birth room in the basement. Gwendolyn was bouncing around, and Todd was dashing about: putting sheets on the air mattress, running up and down to get plants.
Apparently, he found it amusing that I was telling him how to make the bed, and which plants went where (I had tape with names in place beforehand, to make plant arrangement in labour easier) in between surges. I had been sitting on the bed, but was now leaning over a birth ball, and would just have Todd come put pressure on my back when I had a surge. I needed it to get through them at this point. Poor Todd had so much to do, though. There were a few times where, say, he’d be putting on the sheet, and I’d say, “Here comes another one. Pressure!”, and he’d go, “Oh, okay,” but try to finish up what he was doing first. I was just, like, “I need pressure NOW!”
Thankfully, my good friend and sibling doula for Gwendolyn, Erin, arrived, and the two of them were able to go play upstairs. Soon after, my doula arrived. She asked how I was doing, and I think I said something like, “I mean, not great.” With Todd still getting everything just right, it was so nice to have someone else there to help me through the surges. I told her what I needed was just pressure to get through them. I went to the bathroom, and had another surge heading back to the birth room. I called for pressure, and BAM! Katie must have done some special training for pressure, because, I swear, she had like 5 times the force I was expecting—the dryer I was leaning on moved—and it was EXCELLENT.
I really wanted to get in the tub, but Katia, our midwife, still hadn’t arrived. Todd decided to get it ready anyway. I was just sort of moving from spot to spot. I had surges on the bed, and at the windowsill. At about 7:45 Katia arrived. I wanted to be checked, because, I mean, a 7 would be great, but I needed to know if I was at just a 3 or a 4. I went to lie down on the bed, but the thought was so uncomfortable, I decided to say ‘screw it’––it didn’t matter if the tub water was scalding: I h a d to get in that tub. The hot water went fast, so Todd went to boil some, and Katie stayed with me to apply my life-line pressure. Katia checked me, and told me I was at an 8—transition. What amazing and crazy news!
This was especially good to hear, because, ever since coming to the basement, with each surge, I kind of felt a need to push. Not an uncontrollable pushing, like with Gwendolyn’s birth, but just like the infant-expulsion reflex, I guess. Perhaps I could feel him in position, I’m not sure; but I certainly visualized him quite low, and felt something there each surge. As with my first, I hadn’t lost my mucous plug, or had my water break, so I thought I might just be feeling one of those about to go.
With the news that I was at an 8, however, I decided I’d just push lightly, as I felt like doing. Katia monitored baby’s heart. I stayed on my knees in the water, with my arms around Todd’s neck, and Katie applying pressure, and later doing a hip-squeeze. It was such an effective way to labour. With Gwendolyn, I was just kind of floating. This time, I had Todd to pull on, and gravity on my side, plus a little bit of a hip opener. I did worry for a minute that I might throw up, and had Todd get something for that, but it was not necessary.
It was only a couple of minutes before I suddenly felt baby’s head. I announced to everyone, and tried to just keep my body as relaxed as possible, so my body could just do its thing as efficiently as possible. With each surge—I announced them—I buried my head in Todd, and just rode them out, trying to stay focused on not tensing up. At this point in my labour with Gwendolyn, the surges were one on top of another. This time, I would have one, and then a short break. I even got two short spells where I just paused while delivering his head. The sensations were not at all comfortable, but they only lasted 1-2 minutes, so I just let them be.
This time, after a couple of pushes, I felt baby’s head with my hand. And then the ring of fire. This birth, it lasted much more than a flash—basically as long as it took to get his head out. I kept saying, “You guys, it feels so bad.” But, at this point, there was no turning back, I just had to focus and get his head out. Once it was, I had to push a bit more for his body. I’ve been told this entire thing was about 15 minutes and 4 pushes. Born at 8:20 am. Half an hour after we had the whole birth team at the house.
With baby out, Katia helped me pick him up myself. I felt elated. I could. not. believe the baby was out already! What the heck?!
Luckily, this is about when Gwendolyn came down, too. As she was headed outside Erin told Gwendolyn she thought it sounded like baby was coming out now. Apparently, Gwendolyn then paused, looked at the stairs, then flew down them faster than you would think possible.
Due to us not knowing how fast things were going, it was at this moment that our photographer showed up. Though I wish we could have a document of the process, we got a very short labour, and there are worse trade-offs. Plus, Katie got some great shots (thank you!!).
I rested in the tub, tired, super ecstatic and gobsmacked. We just hung around waiting for me to deliver the placenta. Gwendolyn had a look at her new brother, and I just held him.
He was c o v e r e d in vernix, unlike his sister was, and super chill. He basically just dozed in my arms. This time, I was able to hold a wet newborn no problems! After the placenta was out, I continued to rest a bit. Then, with Katia’s guidance, I cut the cord.
Ready to dry off, Todd was handed the baby (he got peed on), and I headed to the air mattress to get dry and checked. Everything had been such a whirlwind, and now time had caught up to itself. This birth, I didn’t shoot out my pelvic floor, and was able to go to the bathroom just fine. I also didn’t need any stitches—so no barfing or crying from me! Todd was walking around with baby, and Katie gave me a foot rub while I hydrated (because she’s the best). I asked Todd if he felt like the name we had in mind was fitting, and he said yes. I announced that baby’s name was Harry.
He was getting restless, so Todd gave him to me for his first feed. He latched like a champ—such a chill guy. All he wanted was so cuddle and eat. During my time relaxing in the tub, Katia’s assistant, Amber, and a student midwife arrived. After a fair amount of time nursing, during which the tub was disassembled and his vernix completely melted into his skin, baby was passed off to get checked out. I had some tea, and ate a peanut butter ball so I could have some pain meds.
When it came time to weight Harry, we all took guesses. I’d always figured he’d be 8.01 or 8.02, but he came in at 8.08! No wonder he felt heavy to me! Todd and I hung out in the bed, and I breastfed again, as Gwendolyn came back in. Then everyone packed up and left. And Todd helped me upstairs to our room.
The labour, from the time I woke up, to the time baby was in my arms was 3.5 hours. Faster and better than I would have ever dared to dream. Harry’s birth was so intimate and lovely. Katia and Katie are both such amazing care providers, and Todd and I both feel like that friendship and intimacy with all those present made Harry’s birth extra peaceful and special.
Honestly, this nigh-perfect birth changed the way I view birth. I feel very grateful. I felt the support I needed from each person involved––in my pregnancy and labour—and it was absolutely one of the biggest reasons, I think, that everything went so flawlessly. But I also feel proud of myself for being able to labour on my own when things were so far along, and to stay so calm and focused during the birth. It was a dream birth, and, I think, the ideal welcome for our calm, cuddly boy.
Todd:
Before I went to bed the night before Harry was born, it was pretty obvious that Lindsay was upset about something. She had been having various forms of so called “false labor” for a couple weeks, so I had gotten pretty used to her feeling uncomfortable and unhappy about the way her body felt, but this was slightly different. She seemed more urgent and worked up than normal, but she frequently has these bouts of heightened emotion, so I decided to wait and see. When she went to bed, I figured that there was nothing interesting going on so I went to sleep too.
The next morning Lindsay woke me up around 6:00 AM, and said that she’d been awake having labor surges for an hour. I asked her if she thought this was the real deal and I should call the midwife and after a couple seconds considering, she said that I definitely should. So I call the midwife and ask her to come down the house, and then ring up the birthing doula and our friend who would be acting as a sibling doula to keep Gwendolyn company. I also sent the photographer a text message, because that was how she had requested to be contacted. In hindsight, so early in the morning, I should have called her directly. Alas. I wasn’t feeling particularly rushed because Gwendolyn’s birth had taken a very long time, so I figured we had at least a couple hours before things started getting sticky.
After I had contacted the birth team, we decided to move the party downstairs, which is where we had set up a birthing space. Mostly. Lindsay wanted all of her house plants in the room, and we hadn’t yet put the sheets on the mattress we had flopped down there. So Lindsay took up her position leaning over a birthing ball, and every couple of minutes she would very politely, and without any demanding in her voice at all, demand that I come over and apply pressure on her back and hips, which I was happy to do for her. In between each of these outbursts, I was running around the house, picking up potted plants (some of them being VERY HEAVY) and hauling them down the stairs to the birthing room, putting on the sheets, getting the birthing tub properly set up, and getting the hose attached to the shower so we could fill up the tub.
Between the surges, while she had enough air to say things, she was directing me on how exactly to position her plants, which sheets to use, and when the pillows on the bed were out of place. Lindsay wanted to make sure her birthing space lived up to the experience she wanted to have for her birth, and I wasn’t going to argue with a woman in labor. I ended up calling folks again to tell them that things seemed to be progressing more quickly than I had originally let on.
The first person from the birth team to arrive was the sibling doula, which was very good because Gwendolyn was starting to be a bit concerned with the sounds that Lindsay was making. Next was the birth doula, Katie. Katie took over giving Lindsay pressure during surges, allowing me to focus on getting all the house plants moved and the birth tub filled up. About ten to fifteen minutes later Katia, the midwife (yes, they are named Katie and Katia, what a world), showed up and gave me the job of grabbing her stuff out of her car. I ran out and grabbed a couple bags, both of which were decently heavy, and took them back inside.
When I got back to the birthing room, I was told that Lindsay was dilated to an eight, and that she was probably at transition. To this I said, “oh, interesting,” and was promptly assigned to go boil water for the tub because the water heater had run out of warm water. After putting water to boil, back in the birthing room, I got back to rubbing Lindsay’s back, and generally just doing what I could to be useful. I don’t remember as much what happened during this period, but at some point I was sent back upstairs to get the hot water, and I brought it down and poured it into the tub. Katie was helping mix the hot water in and nearly scalded her hand. My goodness.
After that Lindsay asked me to come over next to her face so that she could hang off from me, and that’s where I stayed. I kneeled in front of the tub as steady and straight as I could and Lindsay used me as a convenient post to hold on to while she did what she needed to do. Watching Katia and Katie, I knew that things were happening, because they were giggling and whispering to each other. Lindsay would say things like “Oh, I think he’s crowning,” and they would stifle their laughs, because evidently his head was already halfway out or something.
After a surprisingly short few minutes of that, Lindsay was giving a push and surprise, surprise, Harry just decided to slide right on into the tub. Katia stated, very matter-of-fact, “and here’s your baby!” and plopped him into Lindsay’s arms. Harry gave out three sharp little cries, and then was content to just chill out on Lindsay. Lindsay, for her part, was not expecting this and it showed on her face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look more surprised in her whole life, and she sat there stunned for almost a whole minute. During that time I said something like, “Well that went about as well as you could expect!” Just under thirty minutes had passed since Katia had arrived, and only about three and half hours since Lindsay had woken up.
Gwendolyn came running down almost immediately after the baby was born, and she was very excited that it hadn’t taken all that long. She kind of bopped around the room, taking a minute now and then to make concerned stares at Harry. I was glad that she showed up so soon so that she could be part of the experience too.
It was about that time that everyone else decided to show up. The photographer arrived, and seemed a bit distressed that we had already had the baby, and Katia’s assistants showed up to help do all of the post birth checkups.
When Lindsay decided that she wanted to get out of the tub to clean up and dry off, she handed Harry to me, and I had some skin to skin time with him. Our very first interaction was him deciding to take his very first post-birth urination directly onto my stomach. That was very charming.
He and I had a good cuddle for a while, and then it was time to weigh, measure, feed, and do all the little things that need to be done when a baby is first born, and that’s pretty much my experience with Harry’s birth.
For my first child’s birth story, click here.
