The contractions I was having were strong enough to make me stop wanting to talk and just focus. I did that for a while. I had the shakes which I assumed were hormonal but then the contractions slowed down again to about every ten to fifteen minutes and I dozed on the couch, waking with a few strong ones, and then finally falling asleep completely. Around 7 am they had stopped almost completely. “Huh. That was weird.” I thought. Throughout the day I had contractions every half hour, strong ones that were difficult to walk or talk through, but spaced very far apart. I knew that between the first and second stages of labor there can be a nice long break, still I was worried by the way labor had seemed to start and stall like that the night before, but my Mom was there to reassure me, “Don’t worry, she was getting some stuff done last night. When she comes, it’s going to be fast.” I remembered too that it had been very similar with my previous labor and birth. I was frustrated with how long things were taking, but reminded myself that this was normal for my body and, as my Mom said, how much “stuff” was getting done in there in the mean time.
Boy were we right.
Around 6 pm I thought, “Man, even if we wanted to go in to the hospital, I don’t think I’d go in yet!” Still strong contractions. Still a half hour apart. Hmph. I began to feel a little grumpy. And the contractions began to come closer together. Every 20 minutes. Every 15. 10. 15 again. 5. 10. At 8 pm my husband was reading a Bible story to the girls before bed. I felt very impatient and snapped “Hurry up! I need to get the kids in bed and I need to get them there NOW!” I had no idea why I was so impatient. I felt like I wanted them all asleep so I could go into the bathroom by myself and just focus. Sit or kneel quietly and breathe and pray through these contractions without any other distractions. My husband wisely prayed with them and wrapped stuff up quickly without saying anything, other than giving me a meaningful sideways glance. I told the girls a quick couple stories, turned out the lights and sang to them. I rocked our two year old, even though at bed time she mostly likes to just lay in the bed now as I hold her hand and sing to them all. But I felt like rocking her a little first and wanted to kiss her head and tell her I loved her. Then I layed down in the bed too for a few minutes as they began to drift off. I’d had a couple contractions during story time that were hard to talk through and one on that bed that made me pray I wouldn’t have another one in that position. I peeked at them all. Out cold. Thank you Lord because another wave is coming. I hurried out of the room with the next contraction. It was about 8:30 pm. I sat down on a chair in the living room where my Mom and Hasan were hanging out.
“You having this baby tonight or what?” My Mom joked.
I think I had two, maybe three contractions on that chair before my Mom suggested we get out the plastic wrap and lay it on the floor. I hadn’t planned on being in the living room, I had imagined this peaceful, slow evening of labor, maybe in a warm shower. Suddenly though, kneeling on a soft mat by the couch was sounding pretty good. I had just a few more contractions as things were quickly put in place. I was quite lucid between them, saying things like, “Hasan, get that other towel from the bathroom, hurry, cuz another one is coming.” I knelt there. I could not believe the intensity of the contractions that came then. A dear friend sent me a couple of encouraging notes written on pretty prayer flags, one of which said “You can do anything for one minute,” and I kept repeating that in my mind. My water broke and at one point I said “I think I’m transitioning.” They kept asking if I wanted my pants all the way off (they were around my knees) but it’s funny how once you are in that place you don’t want anything to change, so I said no, even though they were soaked.
The pressure now was tearing through me, so that I could barely catch a breath. I remembered my midwife back in the States telling me during my previous labor that “open palms mean an opening cervix” and that closed fists hinder the process and a couple times reminded myself of this as I’d find myself clutching at the couch cushions as though hanging on for dear life. I was moaning and shouting and praying out loud “DEAR GOD JESUS PLEASE” which was about as far as I could get, but I know he knows what I meant.
Hasan says that from the time I knelt down I had about six contractions before she was out. As I look back, I believe these were the most deeply intense contractions I’ve had with any birth, including when I had back labor with Adelina. Hasan was amazing, by the way, simultaneously pushing my hips together and rubbing my lower back hard for counter pressure. I seriously don’t think I could have made it through without him. I remember in the midst of it thinking “Why are these so strong?!” followed immediately by “Oh my gosh I can feel her descending! I’m not ready for this part!!! I am NOT pushing yet!” followed immediately by “My gosh I’m pushing! How is this happening?!” My body was doing it, despite me. Then I began to help it by putting my mind into the pushing as well. I reached down a couple times and could feel the slimy bulge that I knew was her head, though I couldn’t reiterate this in words to the rest of the room. But they were right there with me and a few moments later my Mom was peeking with a flashlight and saying “Oh my gosh, I can see her head! She’s coming!” I could feel a long, slow burning and realized, still in shock, that she was crowning! Now! Already! I shouted, “Pants, pants, pants!” Now I wanted them off. I reminded myself to try and hesitate so as not to tear and “breathe the baby out.”
She crowned beautifully, albeit quickly. The back of her head first and facing my back.
I stood in a half stand/squat with my left leg up a little. My Mom asked if she should run in and get the girls. They had so wanted to see the baby come out and I had so wanted them there. But it was going too fast, although I couldn’t communicate it, I knew there wasn’t time even for my Mom to run into the next room. I managed to grunt “Actually, no-“ then the final contraction came. My Mom asked if I needed counter pressure down there, I grunted “Yes” and as she reached down, the baby’s head was born right into her hands! Then out popped her right shoulder, and then her left, -then the rest of her in a rush and with a gush of the remaining waters.
Instantaneous relief.
From being torn in two to the most perfect and wonderful feeling in the world. “Run, get the girls!” I cried happily as I lifted my wet little baby up to me (And my gosh I’m crying as I write that part.) My Dad, who’d been praying in the next room, came in at that same time, overjoyed and amazed at how fast it had gone. She was born at 9:47 pm on Friday, May 31st. And here I’d thought she was going to wait and be a June baby. The girls were there, Adelina, age 6 wide awake immediately and super excited, Teuta, age almost-four, and very sleepy, but also very happy. They got in some kisses and stuff as we snapped pictures and rejoiced together in awe over this new little addition. Then Teuta went back to sleep on the couch while Adelina followed us in to the bathroom where I thought to deliver the placenta. She decided she did not want to see that, though, and I think she went back out to the living room to hang out with my Dad, checking back in on me every now and then with a big grin.
I stood, and squatted, and stood, and squatted, wondering after a time if I should think about taking the placenta release tincture I’d ordered just in case. I decided it was still all in good time though and it took a little while, but I was already nursing the baby and finally with a mild contraction the placenta sort of slid out into the prepared bowl I had handy. I called my husband in then and he held the baby, who was still connected, while I jumped in to clean off a little in the shower.
After, oh I don’t know, perhaps an hour and a half in total we tied off the now-limp cord and cut it. None of us could believe how clean the baby was. I hadn’t torn and she’d come out with some of the waters, so there was not a speck of blood or goopyness or anything on her. Clean as a whistle, so tiny and so so perfect. I took my baby back into the living room where we snuggled on the couch as she nursed some more. We thought to weigh her then on the kitchen scale my Mom brought along. She weighed in at 7lbs 2oz, although she’d already nursed a few times and had a diaper on by this point. The next evening when I measured her head it was 34 cm (just shy of 13 in) and her body length around 19 inches (little thing!) though I’m not sure I had her quite fully stretched out as she didn’t care for that.
We named her Violeta (pr. Vee-o-lay-ta) Mae, she and I are both doing great. She’s nursing beautifully and so far is a very calm and peaceful little one. Thank you to everyone for your gifts, your thoughts, your prayers and well-wishes. Blessings to you all. <3
