Romneya's Birth

I had been pregnant 3 times and birthed babies both 'early' and 'late' but it did not stop me from being insanely impatient as my due date approached this time. This pregnancy was physically my hardest. By the time I was due I was feeling very ready to be done. I was also very frightened of labor and birth. The anxiety came and went in waves. I hoped to feel very strong going into it. The last two weeks of pregnancy were full of warm-up labor in the night, leaving me wondering when the real thing would begin. This wasn't very good for my subconscious. It left me far too many waking hours in the night worrying about the pain to come and increasing my anxiety. When labor came I was 40 weeks and 4 days pregnant.

I was up the night before with warm-up labor, so Karl took that day off of work thinking the birth was soon. But by the morning it faded, so we spent the day running errands and preparing. I showed Karl how to milk the cow. By afternoon I was an emotional wreck, wishing for labor to start back up. A phone call to Phoebe, a dear friend and fellow unassisted homebirther, set me straight. By her suggestion, Karl took the kids to the creek down the road to give me some space. I was determined to use the time to get past the anxiety that I felt was building in my heart. I found tasks to occupy my hands and heart and while I cleaned the house labor crept up on me. By the time the crew got home it had begun. I would count the start of labor at 5:15pm, when the kids (Tristan, almost 6 - Kassiopeia, 4 - Anatoly, 19 months) piled into the house. I made a strong mental effort not to feel overwhelmed by their presence. Karl set them up in the playroom while I labored in the front of the house. The pain was intense and I knew I had come into labor at 5cm dilated and fully effaced. Still it was only an hour before I began to doubt my ability to give birth at home this time. It wasn't feeling right- particularly how baby was moving so desperately and constantly between contractions. The movement should have reassured me but it was too much and with each break between pains he writhed as if he were uncomfortable. I silently started fixating on leaving the house and going to the hospital. I tried and tried to wash the thought from my mind but it would not go away and eventually I called Karl in to hear me. I told him that I had this feeling we must go now, and as silly as it sounded I didn't want to ignore it. I felt very calm and certain, but I could not describe what I wanted the hospital to 'do' for me. The scariest thing was knowing I did not care what they did, the feeling of urgency was so overwhelming. The pains of labor were about 3 minutes apart max, and I was lucid between them. I had not checked my own progress because I believed I had made none.

Karl had me call Phoebe again. It was the best thing that could happen. Though she heard my resolve, she recognized immediately that I was in transition. She suggested it to me and I was adamant, 'No way! Nothing is happening down there!' And then she wanted to talk to Karl. I only heard his side of the phone call between pains. I remember feeling very violated that they were talking about me, talking about not letting me go to the hospital like I knew I needed to. Karl was more willing to believe I was in transition, and they decided together that we should wait a couple of hours to make a choice about the hospital. Karl was making dinner anyway . Phoebe was sure that I would have a baby in 2 more hours. (And she was correct!)

Feeling a little ignored, I took some Rescue Remedy and decided to start a bath. I thought, 'Well I am not driving to the hospital alone so I had better at least get comfortable.' We have a giant old cast iron bathtub that I thought I would give birth in this time. I made a warm tub and labored in it. I doubted I was making any progress in the way of dilation but I decided to check myself. Goodness! When I reached to feel all I felt was the bag of water, tight and ready to break! Phoebe was right. I never thought about the hospital again.

*Interestingly, though I had originally envisioned the birth in the tub, in the last days of pregnancy I started seeing it on dry land. I also had begun to see it happening during the day instead of the night.*

The Lion King was the movie of choice for the kids and I labored through the entire thing, hearing it between contractions . Hakuna Matata, anyone? Our milking cows were in the yard out the back door. I watched them graze between pains. The tub was great for deep squatting, laying back in to rest, and being on my knees hanging over the curved back of the tub, watching the water drip down the sides. In my mind, where most of the real work takes place for me, I had a strength unlike any of my previous labors. I was easily able to push away negativity and remind myself that I only had think about this contraction, not the next or the previous. I thought a lot about how in each labor I have felt I could not do it and how with each one I did it. I thought about my daughter's birth a lot. Compared to my other labors I was pretty quiet. Karl and the kids were occasionally passing through. There were farm chores being done, dinner was consumed- I was too busy to really notice. When the sounds of my home became to great, I reminded myself of my resolve to not be overwhelmed. I have never before been able to listen to myself like I did this time.

The tub's novelty wore off. I got out, laboring on the floor near it. Slowly my labor nest crept back into the front room where I could be in and out of the fan that was cooling the house. In during contractions, out between. Sometimes covered up in down comforters to warm up. the nest made its way over to a rocking chair in the corner. It included my favorite big long pillow and all our nicest bed linens. (Oops! Actually, I thought about ditching these things but couldn't get it done in time.) Suddenly, my water broke. I labored leaning into the rocker either on my knees or in a squat. I felt inside for progress after my water broke and had those two back-to-back contractions I always have at the end of dilation. This time I had my hand feeling at the same time and I felt the last rim of my cervix completely fade away. It was marvelous. And there was his wrinkled head, pretty high up. His movements between contractions had not stopped, but I had reached a new level of preoccupation with labor so it wasn't as worrisome to me.

It was getting darker, milking time, but Karl chose not to milk right then. I suppose he could tell things were nearing their end. My body was pushing but the pain was not going away between contractions. It was a sharp, burning pain high in my uterus and it would not quit. He kept moving and twisting, too. Baby's head was not making its descent and found myself not wanting to squat but to lay on my breasts with my behind in the air. I thought each time, 'This is stupid and not helping, why am I laying like this?', but I couldn't help it. I shifted between this position and laying on my left side. I noticed at some point that my blankets were spattered with red blood. This stage didn't take very long but it felt an eternity with the pain between and during. Tristan came in a few times to ask if baby was coming. Karl was outside with Anatoly on his back doing chores and Kassiopeia was asleep. Then, for reasons only he knows, Rome descended. The pushing by my body became tremendous. I moved into a sitting squat against the chair. I heard Karl come through the gate outside and I thought he wouldn't make it. He came in and passed through the house, I was too busy to say anything to him but he knew, he just needed to get the kids together. Baby came down and out and Karl missed the actual vision of the birth. With Anatoly still on his back he came in just as Rome's body slid out and Tristan was right there afterwards. There was no crowning or ring of fire, it was just incredible pushing and baby was out. He was covered with blood as I scooped him up.

Thank God! was all I could say. I said it over and over, maybe 20 times. I held him and touched him, my beautiful son.

Tristan said ' Welcome to the world, Rome!' as Karl got the birth kit with blankets. Tristan was touching the cord, really experiencing the birth. Then we noticed Rome had been followed by tons of already clotted blood and my placenta was already detached, right there. Tristan and Karl cut the cord. I immediately got the tinctures, took angelica, begged for a bowl to put the placenta in and went into shock. Blood was everywhere. I shook and chattered and was very afraid. They covered me in blankets. I don't know how long I shook for. I couldn't even hold our baby. Karl cut two slivers off of the placenta and I held them under my tongue. I will never forget that Tristan stood over me, rubbing my back and saying "It's going to be okay." Kassiopeia was awake by this point and sleepy, marveling in the baby. Rome cried a lot, but was pink pretty fast and seemed fine.

The blood gushed and didn't stop, even when I moved to the bed on the floor and was able to hold the baby. Later we would find it impossible to clean the carpet with peroxide as the blood would keep rising, seeping back into the rug from below. My home smells like rusty nails.

laying there I got him nursing and he didn't stop for a few hours. I was warmed up at last and my bleeding slowed. He was small, my smallest baby. So perfect! He was also our first dark-haired baby. Bliss! The stress of the bleeding washed away and we settled in as a family of 6.

This birth was my most difficult, and in the days after it became more clear why. As I write this I am 4 days postpartum and am feeling weaker every day instead of stronger. I lost a lot of blood, something I have to attribute to the placenta pulling away before baby was born. The pain I felt between contractions during pushing must have been related to this. The clotted blood and the placenta following him were part of it, too. Also, his bruises showed up. He had two little relief dents in his forehead the shape of his tiny fists- high in his hair- and two black bruises on his forearms where they must have bent over his head as my body tried pushing him downward. Perhaps this led to my desire to lay in a less-than-productive pushing position. Surely he corrected this before he finally came out, but truthfully I do not know because I didn't see him come out! It was so fast and I had my eyes closed. Rome's constant movement in labor must be related to these things, he was attempting to correct his presentation. Ultimately he knew just what to do and he came out fast and furious when he could. As frightening as these events were I do not trust birth less but more. Being home, we gave him the opportunity to be born just as he needed to be. As tired as I am from losing blood I am still here and soaking up every minute of his existence in our family. I will heal, we all will together.

Romneya Martin Grey O'Melay was born at 8:45 pm on the 29th of July, 2008. The labor was about 3 and a half hours in total. He was greeted by only his family in his new home. We love him.