Scarcity

It was around two in the morning and I was awake, feeding my little daughter. My husband had recently discovered information about "natural breastfeeding" (which had led to a huge improvement in the feeding endeavor!), so I was practically lying down, my length spread out on the couch in the living room so I wouldn't disturb my husband. I was reading My Antonia by Willa Cather, a book I'd wanted to read for a long time. (It seems having a baby suddenly gives one more time to do certain things, while drastically reducing time to do others!) I came across a passage that almost startled me with its implications for my own thinking, especially in this season of quick changes:

Trees were so rare in that country, and they had to make such a hard fight to grow, that we used to feel anxious about them, and visit them as if they were persons. It must have been the scarcity of detail in that tawny landscape that made detail so precious.

That week my husband had returned to work after having taken time off for paternity leave, and I had been feeling down about the loss of those special weeks with him at home. There were many enjoyable activities that had characterized that time: reading good books aloud during feedings, taking the baby with us to go grocery shopping, eating meals together. I had been frustrated that many of those activities had come to an end upon my husband's return to work, but then reading this passage about trees helped me gain a better perspective.

I realized that some of those activities had been unique to that time when the three of us were at home, and had been, therefore, made even more special. It was not only my husband's return to work that had caused certain tasks or events to be unique to a time, either. Just the fact that our child is growing rapidly means that many enjoyable things, such as cuddling a sleepy newborn baby, will be unique or will last only a short amount of time, whether that time be a minute or recurring throughout a couple of weeks. My waking at two a.m. to feed our daughter will not be a permanent fixture of my life, nor will catching her cooing and smiling in only the way that a young baby does before learning to laugh and smile on purpose. The very scarcity of these things is, partly, what makes them precious.

The new type of schedule imposed on me by my little girl is one that involves frequent changes. Rather than having long periods of waking and sleeping, we have shorter times of waking, sleeping, eating, and, yes, pooping. Even writing this post is taking me several days with spaced-apart bouts of thinking and typing. This baby-induced schedule of small increments is another reminder that there can be value in scarcity or brevity. The idea is blossoming for me that I can enjoy being present in and appreciating the current moment, rather than trying to maintain a steady mind-hold on the entire day, week, or even (crazy as it may seem) lifetime. Alas, this is a lesson God has been teaching me throughout my life: I am not in control, and all I really have is the current moment in which to enjoy His gifts and trust Him completely.

Birth Story

The Shorter Version
To help prepare for labor and delivery, I read through Natural Hospital Birth: The Best of Both Worlds, written by doula Cynthia Gabriel. I knew I wanted to try for a birth without medical interventions (barring emergency interventions), and this book was the perfect fit (I'm definitely not an expert, but I highly recommend it to anyone interested in natural birth who also wants to deliver in a hospital).

What I Had Expected:

• Contractions were painful, yes. The techniques my husband and I had learned through both a Lamaze class and the Natural Hospital Birth book actually did help, though! Various combinations of back pressure and hip squeezing, along with controlled breathing, rocking, and leaning, made it possible to get through each contraction.
• My husband was incredibly supportive throughout the entire process, and I think this one individual element was the most indispensable in terms of making it through without being absolutely terrified. (I never felt truly afraid except for a short time during pushing.)

What I Hadn't Expected:

• I threw up! No one had told me that would be normal.
• Pushing was exhausting and it was the hardest part for me. Most people/books had said that women often find this phase a relief after contractions. Not so for me!
• We are fairly certain my contractions were never super regular. The definitely weren't regular in the earlier stages of labor. Perhaps at the very end they were.

Why I'm Thankful:

• My husband is amazing.
• My doctor is amazing.
• Labor and delivery nurses are amazing.
• A baby girl came out of my body and was placed on my chest. This is incredible to me.
• God is good. 

The Longer Version
To help prepare for labor and delivery, I read through Natural Hospital Birth: The Best of Both Worlds, written by doula Cynthia Gabriel. I knew I wanted to try for a birth without medical interventions (barring emergency interventions), and this book was the perfect fit (I'm definitely not an expert, but I highly recommend it to anyone interested in natural birth who also wants to deliver in a hospital). Gabriel mentions that every labor and delivery is unique and that women like to share their stories. Beforehand, I didn't know if sharing would matter much to me, but now that I've gone through this crazy experience, I feel the urge to write down my memories before they get too muddled!

I think I must have been having Braxton Hicks contractions for a couple of weeks leading up to labor. There was one day that I thought they felt a bit different than normal. I told my parents (who planned to travel to be at the hospital for the birth) that things might be happening, but that they shouldn't try the drive yet; however, they and my sister went ahead and came to see us anyway! Turns out they spent a couple of nights in town and I got to spend time with them before the baby's arrival, which is a sweet part of my memory of this event. They ended up going back home before the little one came.

It was only two days later, a Monday, that labor really began! The morning before I had noticed that my mucus plug came out, and throughout Sunday I had "bloody show" - a sign of approaching labor. Also, I was past due (41 weeks and 2 days on Monday), so I was expectant. Monday morning I woke up feeling like the contractions were definitely stronger than they had ever been. My husband was able to stay home from work in anticipation of labor truly starting, and I had fairly consistent bouts of contractions all day, but none were at regular intervals. 

By the evening my husband and I were doubtful (again) that anything was actually going to happen, but then, at about 8:00, contractions started to be fairly close together, although they still weren't at regular intervals. We started to pay close attention to timing, and they would come at such irregular spacing that we thought it was "false labor." We watched a show and headed to bed. At about 9:30, just as we were ready to go to sleep, we realized that sleep would actually be impossible. The contractions by that time were too painful for me to fall asleep, and they were coming fairly close together (4 or 5 minutes apart). We kept timing them, and we decided to go ahead and get the last minute items into our hospital bags. There were a couple of instances where the contractions came about 2 minutes apart, but still they were not consistently getting closer together and still they weren't so painful that I couldn't walk or talk through them. We weren't sure when to go to the hospital since our goal was to go through early labor as much as possible at home. 

Finally, even though our resources for achieving a natural birth recommended waiting until contractions took my total focus before going to the hospital, we decided to leave. I think we felt a bit nervous about waiting too long, since it was our first labor experience, we had to go down stairs to get to the car, and it was raining. By the time we got to the hospital, my contractions had slowed and gotten less intense. I was second-guessing our timing, but in the end it was probably good that we arrived when we did. I was admitted to triage, where they check everything before really admitting you, and was only dilated to a 3 (one centimeter more than at my previous checkup). They told my husband and me to walk around the halls for an hour to see if I would progress at all. If I didn't, we would have to go home (although the doctor said she was reluctant to send us home since I was past due). I was nervous they might try to induce labor if I didn't progress naturally, but after an hour (and an extra twenty minutes for good measure) of walking, I was dilated to a 4, and they admitted me! What a huge relief. By that time, my contractions were making me stop and focus on breathing to get through. My husband was so supportive in standing with me and encouraging me through each one. We even got to see my parents and sister (who had driven to be there - again! - and were out in the waiting area).

In our labor and delivery room, the nurses were amazing. We gave them a thank-you card that had our birth plan written inside, stating our desire for a natural birth, and I remember one nurse reading it to the other one and saying something like "nothing too crazy," which was another huge relief to me. One of my fears had been that the nurses/doctor would not be supportive of our desires or would find them frustrating. After all of the questions had been asked and forms had been signed, the nurse working with us pretty much left us to ourselves except to come adjust the little monitor I wore that measured the baby's heartbeat. We were able to move around the room and get through the contractions without distractions or unwanted attention (yet another relief, and an answer to prayer). We ended up finding a system that worked for us, which involved sitting between contractions and standing or leaning against a wall or with hands on knees during the contractions. My husband, always supportive, helped me through each one by either squeezing my hips or applying pressure to my lower back. These techniques really helped! I kept focusing on breathing, too, which was also helpful. 

At one point I threw up, which I had not expected to happen, and I felt a bit afraid something might be wrong. The nurse came in shortly after that and she told us it was totally normal and she had never seen a labor where the mom didn't throw up! Whew. I guess I missed that part of the book. 

The worst contractions for me were the last ones before the transition phase, I guess around 6 to 7 and 7 to 8 centimeters. The first time the nurse checked me after we got to the labor and delivery room I was at an 8, and I remember the contractions from that point on until pushing felt a lot different from the ones before. Suddenly I did not want to stand and rock, breathing quickly; instead I wanted to hold onto my husband, using something like a super tight hug, and breathe more slowly through them. His encouraging words were important to me at that point. We were both so tired that in the tiny gaps between contractions both of us were actually falling asleep. Those transition contractions seemed easier to me than the ones that had come before, which was a surprise, since our resources had taught us those were likely the most painful ones.

When the pushing phase came, everything changed. Suddenly we weren't left to ourselves anymore; nurses came in the room and one checked me and said I was fully dilated. They called my doctor (whose voice when she entered the room made me start crying with relief!) and put me on the bed, which until that point I had not used. My doctor found out soon after we began that I still needed to dilate a bit more, so there was a short time of some pretty painful contractions during which I was lying there and had to refrain from pushing.

To me, pushing was definitely the hardest part of the whole process. I think it's because I felt out of control being on my back with my legs held up like they were. Also, I was more mentally prepared for getting through contractions, and they happened to me, whereas I had not expected pushing to be so difficult, and they required my extreme effort to be effective. By that point I was so tired, having been awake for nearly 24 hours, and suddenly I was basically doing sit-ups through which I had to hold my breath. At one point early on I thought I was going to faint; they started giving me oxygen in between contractions, and that helped a lot.

At the start of pushing, for the first time during the whole labor, I really thought I might not be able to do it, which was frightening. I voiced that thought and everyone encouraged me that I could do it, that I was doing it. I started focusing on my doctor and listening to her instructions. She kept telling me to push harder and then to rest when it was time to rest. The nurses counted out each push for me, 1 to 10, which helped, too. My husband was close by and wiped my forehead with a cool cloth from time to time. Eventually the doctor told the nurse to start a pitocin drip to strengthen my contractions so that the pushing would not take as long a time. That's the only thing about the labor and delivery that I feel somewhat disappointed about, but it is a minimal disappointment. At the time I felt glad that they were helping me to get through this phase in a shorter amount of time since I was feeling so exhausted, and looking back I think it was probably a good decision. I remember sensing a mental shift away from fear and towards just getting through each sit-up and push. One of the nurses told me as we got close to the end that if I looked down a little I would see the top of the baby's head. When I saw her little hair-covered crown, I knew the pushing was almost over!

Once our little girl was finally born, I remember feeling totally wiped out. The doctor instructed my husband how to cut the cord, nurses and the doctor were talking to me and saying wonderful things about the baby, and they placed her straight onto my chest, but I was out of it and barely aware of these goings-on. I think I had conversations with them but it was like I was on auto-pilot at that point! The doctor was still sitting down there, taking care of things, helping me deliver the placenta (which felt like an octopus slipping out) and stitching up my little tear, but I was physically emptied: there was no energy left. And at the same time I was holding our new baby. She felt warm on my chest.

I remember thinking during the latter parts of labor and definitely during the pushing phase that I never wanted to go through this again. It was so overwhelming to me, especially pushing, that I thought there would be no way I'd ever want to have another baby. However, I am starting to perceive the experience differently now that it's almost three weeks in the past. What they say seems to be true; you don't really remember the pain afterwards. Somehow it fades away as you get lost in taking care of your new baby. The whole experience was surreal, and even now, having a baby still seems surreal to me! Despite the strangeness of it all, I believe that, for me, labor and delivery was a grounding experience leading into this brand new chapter of life as a mommy.