Carnival of Natural Parenting: My Birth Experience

Welcome to the June 2012 Carnival of Natural Parenting: Embracing Your Birth Experience
This post was written for inclusion in the monthly Carnival of Natural Parenting hosted by Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama. This month our participants have written about at least one part of their birth experience that they can hold up and cherish.
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Those who have followed this blog since the beginning may remember my birth story. It is the first post on this blog, carried over from a personal blog that no longer exists. I chose to start out Witch Mom with my birth story, so that this blog officially documented starting this new chapter in my life.


Nothing about Rowan's conception, my pregnancy, or our childbirth experience was ordinary. But whose story is? Birth is the everyday miracle at which we all marvel yet take for granted.


The part of the story that I tend to focus upon, when telling his story now, is how quickly I willed myself to dilate and push him out when he was in danger and I was in danger of being cut open. I wanted my VBAC so bad and wanted Rowan so bad that I performed that everyday miracle within an hour.

Mama and Rowan, shortly after they brought
him to me from the NICU.

I knew I was in final stage labor when we piled into the car to cross over the San Francisco Bay Bridge from my home in Oakland to the birth center in San Francisco. And when I arrived at 2:30, i was 5 cm dilated. My midwife was excited and started monitoring the baby and that's when she told me we would have to go to the hospital. She rode with me in the ambulance and eventually got scrubs to enter the OR that they wheeled me into- just as they were prepping me for the C Section that I worked so hard to avoid.


They had just assessed that in that short ride to the hospital, I went from 5 cm to 9.5 cm! At that, my midwife begged them to give me a chance at vaginal delivery. She has a great relationship with the folks at that hospital, so they told her to coach me. They also told her that they would only give me three contractions before they would have to do a C section, for fear of losing my baby.


I remember looking up into her face, masked and clad in bog glasses and cap. "OK- make these contractions count!", she barked. I remember them manually opening me up that last .5 cm (ouch) and when the contraction came an instant later, I pushed and screamed. "Stop screaming and push all that energy down there- don't let it come out your mouth!" she said insistently. I was glad for her direction and was all consumed by the sheer physicality of it all.

My midwife, Judi with Rowan. I will always be grateful to
her for the excellent prenatal care and that she got them to let
me try for my VBAC. She saved me from another C Section,
to be sure.

The next contraction came and I pushed so hard Rowan's head came out. The doctor and nurses were stunned. They had not expected me to accomplish this and were expecting to start anesthesia instead. I got wild encouragement from my midwife, and with one more push during that third contraction, his shoulders passed through.


My midwife came to see me the next day after Rowan and I were settled in, starting to breastfeed (he had to go to the NICU for his first 14 hours). "They (the hospital staff) were surprised that this was your first vaginal birth- you handled it really well.", she told me. 


What could I say? I knew if I wanted a vaginal birth and a healthy baby, I had to do it- there was no wiggle room, no hemming and hawing that could be done. So I did it. I willed myself to open, just as I willed my body to push. It was a profound lesson that I can do anything. I think birth does that for women who are given the chance to give birth the way we are supposed to- naturally and with support. When women are told that their pregnancy  and birth needs to be managed and treated like a pathology, they are disempowered and do not learn the very real magic and discipline of birth. It robs women of a rite of passage- all those interventions.

Rowan's father, doing skin-to-skin contact the day
after he was born. He took off his shirt but kept on a
hoodie, to keep Rowan warm.

I am not saying that interventions aren't always necessary. Sometimes they save lives. But they happen all too often in this country for no other reason than convenience and comfort (of the mother sometimes, but more often of the medical staff that attends her). And comfort does not teach the real life lessons. Only through irritation and pain does an oyster make a pearl.


Did I get the birth that I wanted? No. I wanted to labor in the birth center, taking my time in a sacred space that I, my partner, and my doula created together. I wanted my son to be born and suckle with skin-to-skin contact immediately. I wanted my partner to cut the cord. I wanted to encapsulate my placenta and ingest it. Did I get any of those things? No. But I got what I needed: a healthy son and an initiation into a powerful women's mystery that I will remember always.
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Visit Code Name: Mama and Hobo Mama to find out how you can participate in the next Carnival of Natural Parenting!
Please take time to read the submissions by the other carnival participants:
(This list will be live and updated by afternoon June 12 with all the carnival links.)

• I Had A C-Section. So What! — Jennifer at Hybrid Rasta Mama rewrites her birth story now that she has worked through the feelings of inadequacy and disappointment of not having the “perfect” birth.
• The Perfect Birth — Kellie at Our Mindful Life reflects on how a birth can be far from what we imagined, but still perfect.
• Own Your Birth: My Hope For All Expectant Moms — Andrea at Tales of Goodness shares how she owned her birth spiritually (while navigating it physically) in order to have a joyous experience.
• Carnival of Natural Parenting: My Birth Experience — It wasn't what Lily at Witch Mom wanted, but it was everything she needed.
• The Painless Natural Homebirth of BabyE — Shannon at GrowingSlower wants women considering natural birth to know painless births are possible.
• Reflections on Jemma's Birth ... 20 Months Later — It took a second pregnancy for That Mama Gretchen to fully embrace her first birth experience.
• Loving My Unnatural Birth Experience — Erika at Cinco de Mommy cherishes her very first birth experience, in all its unnatural glory!
• Be Careful What you Wish for in Birth — Amber at Strocel.com had two births, and it was the one that went to plan that she struggled with embracing.
• Redeeming an unexpected hospital transfer — Lauren at Hobo Mama looks back at her first, interrupted home-turned-hospital birth, and finds the beauty in what happened.
• All of it — Laura from Pug in the Kitchen had to learn to embrace the whole experience of birth even though it meant being naked . . . with an audience.
• Birthing Dreams & Realities — Momma Jorje never had a "dream birth," but she wouldn't change a thing about her births.
• Memories of Birth: Calm Amidst the Storm — While neither of her children's births had been quite what she expected, Cynthia at The Hippie Housewife cherishes one moment in particular from each of her birth experiences.
• Embracing Our Birth Stories — Luschka from Diary of a First Child shares a sensitive post on her recent birth which both did and didn't go 'to plan', and writes about the journey of coming to terms with the good and the bad.
• Two Beautiful Births — Sheila at A Gift Universe remembers how her mother brought out the beauty in each of her children's births, and tries to do the same with her sons' birth stories.
• Embracing My Supernatural ChildBirth Experiences... — Jenny at I'm a full-time mummy shares her fond memories on both her supernatural childbirth experiences
• Embracing the Hospital Birth Experience — Jenn at Monkey Butt Junction believes that sometimes a medicated, induced hospital birth is the right choice for a natural parent.
• Carnival: Embracing Your Birth Experience — Stephanie at The Other Baby Blog embraces the birth experience from a paleobiologist's point of view and takes a look at how humans defy their anatomy.
• Reflections on My First Birth and Preparing for a Second — Abbie at Farmer's Daughter shares the strength she didn't realize she had until she gave birth to her son.
• becoming a mama - embracing my birth experience — Meegs at A New Day remembers the birth of her daughter Gwenivere, and the empowered feeling it left her with.
• What About Us? A Poem About Birth — Kat at Loving {Almost} Every Moment shares a poem she wrote about healing from an unexpected and emotionally painful birth experience.
• Be a Man: One Father's View of Birth — Mandy at Living Peacefully with Children shares her husband's advice to other fathers and partners.
• A Birth Monologue — Kat at MomeeeZen shares a monologue she wrote during the process of healing from her birth experiences.
• Forgiveness: My Birth Journey — Leah at The Crunchy Farm Baby discusses what happens when her planned homebirth doesn't end up the way she wanted, and explains her journey of forgiving herself for losing that "perfect" birth.
• Patching together a perfect birth — KrissyFair at Think Mama, Think learned that sometimes a perfect birth happens in pieces.
• Celebrating and Sharing the Possibilities of Perfect Birth — Terri from Child of the Nature Isle joyfully shares details of her perfect births and wishes to inspire a more positive cultural expectation about birth.
• Instinct - Embracing Your Birth Experience — Laura at Laura's Blog reflects on instinctual moments during and after the births of her two daughters.
• I was Foolish Then — ANonyMous at Radical Ramblings describes how foolish lack of preparation for childbirth led to a feeling of powerlessness and fear, but that in the end she had her baby in her arms, and that's one thing she can celebrate.
• Sometimes no plan is the best plan — Tat at Mum in search contemplates that maybe she doesn't need a birth plan for her upcoming birth.
• Disturbing the peace — Kenna at Million Tiny Things thought she would be a calm, quiet baby-haver. Ha!
• Accepting the Unexpected During Birth — Emily at S.A.H.M i AM imagined herself laboring on a birthing ball but she never imagined where she'd really be most comfortable when the time came...
• Sacred This Time, Too — Kimber at The Single Crunch learned enough to know that the way she birthed wasn't they way she wanted to; but she also knew to enjoy it for what it was.
• The Birth Partner: A Great Natural Labor Companion — Justine at The Lone Home Ranger thinks that the secret to her pleasant natural labors was having a great support system.
• the Best Thing About My Labor Experience — Crunchy Con Mommy realizes that amidst all the things that seemed to go wrong with her labor, the love and support of her husband was the one thing she could always count on!
• Your Birth Was My Favorite — Dulce de leche describes some of the highlights from each of her four births and explains why despite the differences, they are all her favorites.
• Birth Story: Part One - Moon on a Stick! — Gentle Mama Moon tells the first part of her birth story to share some of the delight of labouring at home.
• Embracing My Birth Experience by Sharing My Birth Story — Dionna at Code Name: Mama made peace with her first birth by sharing the story with her son.
• Focusing on the Beauty of Birth — Julia at A Little Bit of All of It shares the beautiful aspects of her birth center water birth.
• A Joyful Induced Delivery — Amy Willa: Me, Mothering, and Making it All Work notes the meditations and perspective that helped her achieve an unmedicated birth despite being induced for medical reasons.
• Finding Joy in an Imperfect Childbirth Experience — Deb Chitwood at Living Montessori Now tells what she learned from her two very different childbirth experiences.
• What's to like about a c-section? — Jessica at Crunchy-Chewy Mama is glad she her second child at home, but she also cherishes much about the c-section she had four years earlier.
• What Story Will I Tell? — Rachael at The Variegated Life realizes that the way she tells the story of her second child's birth matters — and could be exhilarating.
• I Quietly Put My Hopes to Rest E — Erica at ChildOrganics shares her emotional ups and downs with the highly intervened birth of her special needs daughter, Bella.
• Tale of Six Births — Jessica at Instead of Institutions appreciates that unique challenges and joys of each of her births.
• Labouring naturally: nature’s gift — Caroline at stoneageparent describes the most beautiful, spiritual aspect of the labour of her son, the first stages along a bumpy road to giving birth.
• All The Woman I Am. — Lindsay at This Woman's Work shares a poem about letting go and surrendering during the thralls of labor.
• A twin birth story: embracing the unexpected — Megan at The Boho Mama shares her twin birth experience and how she found the silver lining when faced with preterm labor, premature birth, and a two-week NICU stay.
• Giving Birth With Eminem — Kerry at City Kids Homeschooling shares how fiery rap music contributed to an empowered homebirth with her third baby.
• Two Different Births — Cassie at There's a Pickle in My Life shares how she learned from her first birth experience and how to trust yourself and your body.
• Embracing Our Potential: Birth as a Metaphor — Sheila from A Living Family guest posts at Natural Parents Network and expresses how birth has served as a metaphor to help her through other experiences in life.
• Little Sister's Birth Story: Our VBAC Adventure — Charise at I Thought I Knew Mama describes the recent birth story of her baby girl, her pride in an epidural-free VBAC, and how her story isn't exactly the birth experience she had planned for.
• A Journey in Birth Confidence — Shannon at The Artful Mama shares her experiences with labor during both of her sons' births.

Birth is not a business!

Me, a year and a half before my first birth.

My readers may not know this (unless they have read way back to the beginning of this blog), but I have had two very different birth experiences. My first birth, back when I was a teen was a horrorshow. Because I was giving the child up for adoption and I was an inexperienced, awkward, young person; I did not know to advocate for myself and was taken advantage of.

Far too many women suffer pathologized births like my first one- I was brought into the hospital (I was not in labor) forced pitocin to induce (very painful, non-productive) contractions and when my cervix did not cooperate with the doctor's plans, I was given an unecessary c-section. No one listened to me or explained to me what was happening and it left me with some very serious PTSD. (Decades later, sometimes I would cry involuntarily during a pap smear, even when done by a caring professional.)

There is a better way.

Judi, my my midwife,
interacting with Rowan the day after his birth.

And when I decided to have a child of my own, I was hellbent on getting a better experience- on my own terms. I went to a midwife at a birth center. Not only did she spend hours with me explaining everything and my options, but she also gave me referrals that helped me. For example, I went to a therapist who specializes in folks with previous birth trauma and sex abuse and uses EMDR to repattern the feelings around what happened to make way for empowerment. I have no earthly idea how the EMDR worked, but I can tell you that it did. When I thought of having to give birth in a hospital again (which was a distinct possibility because of some complications that I was having), I would stress out and get gripped with panic- not exactly conducive to giving birth, ya know?

I know for a fact that my midwife saved me from a second c-section. Under her loving care, I was not only to have a healthy happy baby, but I was able to overcome years of trauma around birth, my uterus and vagina, and hospitals. I urge everyone to seek out a non-pathologized birth. It is healthier for mom and baby. As I mentioned, I had a birth team. This included my partner (the baby's father- who went with me to childbirth classes and has been a full co-parent every step of the way), a midwife (who did my prenatal visits and advocated for me when I was transferred to a hospital) and a doula (who did everything she could to take care of me during labor before heading to the birth center, in the hospital, and at home afterwards: dishes and cooking and fetching things for me- so I could just BE with my baby and sleep). This helped me feel secure and well cared for- which did not happen at my first birth.

One of a series of photos,
taken by my doula in the
hospital after Rowan came to me.

I urge women to listen to their feelings and determine their needs before engaging with the medical establishment. I knew that I needed to have lots of support and fierce advocates. We created a birth plan and everyone knew what we wanted and what their roles were before during and after the birth. Since the birth itself is a huge unknown, this helped put my mind at ease and allowed me to focus on giving birth, knowing everything else was covered.

What was/were your birth experience(s) like? Were they positive or negative? Did your experience affect other parts of your life? What would you change if there was a "next time"?

Rowan is One Year Old Today!

This was taken minutes after
I got to hold him for the first time.

Last year on this day at 3:41 PM, I became a mother. The story of me doing so is long and complicated, but entirely worth it. It was a complicated pregnancy but a delightful and joyous one, and the birth itself helped me process past medical and birth trauma. For that, I am forever indebted to my child and my midwife.

Daddy, doing important skin-to-skin contact, too.

Rowan came out like a rocket, being born after only three contractions of pushing. His birth was not what I planned for or expected (I ended up in a hospital, with a baby in the NICU for 14 hours). I had wanted a spiritual birth, with ritual and altar and intention. Instead, Rowan needed medical assistance and we were rushed to a hospital. It is only because the actions of my midwife that I was spared a dreaded C Section. When he was born, I did not get to see him right away. I had planned to having him placed on me and breastfeeding and bonding immediately afterwards, but instead, he was taken to a small room, glassed off from me to be cleaned up (he was covered in meconium) and evaluated (he was breathing funny). My partner went to be with him and supervise the medical team while I was tended- as I had ripped quite a bit from the birth.

Judi, my midwife, with Rowan.

I was brought upstairs to my room to recover and was assured that once I was stable, I could visit my baby in the NICU. I was impatient and upset and insisted on being wheeled down there at first opportunity. What I saw choked me up- my little baby, under a plastic dome, hooked up to machines. No human contact or touch. I cried and talked to him and tried to reassure him energetically of my presence. I talked to a NICU nurse who explained what all the machines were for and what they were doing. She promised me that as soon as he could breathe non-oxygen enhanced air he would be brought to me. True to her word, he was wheeled down the hall to my room around 5:30 AM.

My favorite picture of us.

Once he was in my arms, it didn't matter that my birth plan was derailed and that it was not what I wanted. I now had what I wanted- a small feral beastie rooting around for milk. After breastfeeding for the first time and making that all-important skin-to-skin contact, we fell asleep, exhausted from our experience. The picture on the left was taken by my doula on her mobile phone. I have always loved it.

My journey into motherhood began in earnest then- and I have not looked back since. When I describe myself now, the word "mama" is always one of the first words that I use. I am forever changed- for the better- because of Rowan's presence in my life. He has made me better (more patient, more present, more attentive to others)- and I continually strive to be better and improve the world for him as well. All this I do for him.

Our little wolf cub.

Rowan came to us in dreams before he was conceived, asking to be made and born to us. Because of when he was born, we know that this is the child who came to us: we decided on his name before we knew when he would be born. He was born under the Celtic sign of Rowan. He was conceived at Beltaine and born on the Wolf Moon. Wolves featured prominently at his conception, and he was born with a fine pelt of grey fur. He is a special, magickal child who already has gifts of non-verbal communication and profound empathy. Teaching him our religion as he grows will be easy- he is gifted.

Each day is a precious gift with him around. He allows me to have beginner's mind once more and see the world as he does. I am deeply in love with my son and today, I celebrate his existence and my renewed existence as a mother.

National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day

"Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it." -Helen Keller

 Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day in the United States, setting the day aside to note the loss that is so hard for many to talk about. While I have never had a miscarriage or lost a small child (and never will, Gods willing), as a mother I can grasp a small fraction of the despair that women (and their families) feel when this tragedy happens.

From the official date's website, called Remembering Our Babies:

Remembering Our Babies was created to provide support, education and awareness for those who are suffering or may know someone who has suffered a miscarriage, an ectopic pregnancy, a still birth, or the loss of an infant. We hope that we can help you by giving you and all of the other parents, grandparents, siblings, relatives, and friends a special day of remembrance. This special day of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance is October 15th of every year.

Given that this situation happens in almost 16% of pregnancies in the US, you may know someone affected, whether they have shared this information with the public (or friends and family) or not. It is often a silent suffering.

Here is a letter from my friend, Jeanne Bowyer, to her lost firstborn, Josie:

"I loved holding you in my arms. You nestled there for hours, we cuddled together... They tried to bring you back to life - back to us - but they couldn't. Oh, I've wished so many times since then that it had been otherwise. You were worth every second I carried you. I will love you forever - just as much as your little sister Bella. This is for all the other mamas who've lost children - they are every bit - EVERY bit as precious as their living babies. I love you so very much, Josie."

That person at work or sitting next to you on the bus that is acting tired, depressed, angry, or sad may have something that they are not sharing with you- but their mood is affecting them and those around them. I urge people to be gentle with one another, especially if someone around you is acting "irrational". We do not know what another goes through and struggles with most of the time. Grief is a profound experience, one that needs empathy and space to move.

"We shall draw from the heart of suffering itself the means of inspiration and survival."
-Winston Churchill

Points on the Iron Pentacle: Pride

This blog post is one in a series where I explore the Iron Pentacle and how it has changed for me since becoming a parent (Read the first installment, Sex, here). In my religious tradition, we have a tool for alchemy called the Iron Pentacle. It is a five pointed guidepost to helping you achieve personal balance. Each point on the pentacle is a human birthright:

Sex, Pride, Self, Power, and Passion.

Pride is often confused with conflated ego, and in the Christian tradition is considered one of the seven deadly sins. Why on earth would Feri witches revel in such a thing? Simple- we are Gods*. We have a right to be proud of our accomplishments and words and deeds, especially when they manifest our True Will and the Will of the Divine here in this world.

Pride is the shameless recognition of our own self-worth and ability. It allows us to live fully without reservation, allowing our true nature to shine outward while not giving in to the ego's temptation to compare ourselves to others (whether favorably or disfavorably). "What is called pride in our culture is often merely arrogance. ... Arrogance has its flip side in self-deprecation, which is just another face of the arrogant posture."- T. Thorn Coyle, Feri and Reclaiming initiate. 

One of the most interesting conversations that I've had about Pride in this context was in one of Thorn's classes. Thorn put forth the idea that you cannot be proud of someone else. This disturbed me, as I have felt this emotion especially when I taught sixth graders in the Oakland Public Schools.

Of course I could be proud of a child that struggles to read when all obstacles are thrown in their way! My kids had poverty, hunger, non-involved parents, apathetic teachers, and a curriculum that saw them more as guinea pigs than people with needs to contend with. But then I looked deeper. "My kids"- huh. There was my ego, getting in the way of their accomplishments. They learned to read. Yes, I facilitated or assisted but it is truly their accomplishment. I saw then that on some level, being "proud of someone" is trying to take credit for their accomplishment in some way. Wow. What a revelation.

As for Pride in my life, I am proud of many things- mostly my ability to manifest structures and organizations that help people and contribute to the greater good. But no sense of Pride could have prepared me for dealing with my pregnancy and childbirth. I had a lot to overcome. This was not the first time I was pregnant (I gave a child up for adoption when I was 19), and that experience was unwanted, traumatic, and left emotional and physical scars (I was forced to undergo an unnecessary C section and at that time in my life, was not a great advocate for myself.).

Wanting a baby very badly meant going through the physical transformative process of pregnancy that was sure to trigger me on a very visceral level and submit to whatever birth experience manifested itself. And for a while, it looked like a repeat C section, which made me an emotional train wreck.

I struggled daily with the changes in my body and what bad memories were brought up as a result. I struggled with the imbalanced power dynamic I knew that I would experience in a hospital setting and triumphed over those fears. I built relationships to support me when I was at my most vulnerable- and those relationships paid off and ensured what was best for me and my child. I am so grateful to Judi (my midwife), Wolfy (my doula) and Oberyn (my partner) for being there for me when I most needed them.

And as for feeling Pride for my son, when he accomplishes a milestone (as he seems to do daily these days), I am happy for his success- and I revel in that joy. Which to me, appears more honest than feeling Pride.

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*Unlike some religions that believe that we "have a spark of the Divine" or we are mirror reflections of the Divine, Feri believes that we ARE Divine. And the work of your lifetime(s) is to become that God that you already are. Hard work, becoming a God.

All About Rowan's Birth

(copied from my previous blog, original blog date February 4, 2010)

So Baby Rowan was born on Saturday, January 30th (the full Wolf Moon) at 3:41 PM at SF General Hospital. Nothing about this birth was according to our plan, but it turned OK anyway.

Our plan was to birth in a birthing center in SF (Sage Femme) and if we had an emergency, we would go to UCSF (because of our private insurance). Anyone following my pregnancy knew it was rife with medical “issues” that caused stress but never materialized into actual problems after all. First, at 19 weeks, an ultrasound indicated a “complete placenta previa” meaning I could kiss my VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean) goodbye unless it rectified itself. And the doctor assured my midwife that because of the placenta’s positioning, it would not fix itself.

So, my partner and I called upon our spiritual community for prayer and magick to move that placenta. We envisioned it moving up and back along with hundreds of others all over the world. We had our second ultrasound about 6 weeks later and lo! Completely out of the way, paving the way for a VBAC!

Then came the “low amniotic fluid” scare. My third ultrasound indicated very few “deep pockets” of AF, which could be a problem that means the placenta isn’t doing its job, and could harm the baby. Now, all throughout my pregnancy, it should be noted that my midwife was on me for not staying hydrated enough. My bladder being the size of a walnut and having to get up hourly (I shit you not) to pee (even from a sound sleep) was unbearable after a while. So I was simply not drinking enough. Plus, the last ultrasound indicated that fluid was indeed flowing quite nicely from the placenta and it was healthy. I saw this new extra test as another freaking medically-imposed burden, as the baby was healthy and moving and all my test results were good.

They did the AFI test and said I was low but fine. Since it was low though, they recommended getting at least one more before my due date. I did not follow that advice. I got one after I was a week overdue, as is customary. In fact, the day I went in for the test, I had started laboring, and my contractions were 15 minutes apart during the testing. The labor had been triggered by my MW’s pelvic exam the day before, which indicated that my cervix was soft and fully effaced, and I was at 2 cm already.

Shockingly, the AFI test this time indicated NO fluid at all. None. Now this was a problem. I was advised (lobbied hard, actually, by 4 nurses and 2 doctors) to stay at UCSF that day and get an induction right then and there. I was not prepared to do that. I had a million loose ends to clear up before having a baby! My animals needed to go to caregivers, I had student loans to pick up to pay my rent, blah blah blah.

So I checked out “against medical advice” and told them that if my labor had not kicked in by tomorrow naturally, I would come back for the induction they were so trigger-happy for. Sigh. An induced labor in a hospital was looking more and more likely, and one intervention often leads to another, causing a cascade of treatments ending in C-section. I was nervous about that.

Back at home, after a day of errand running, the contractions stepped up quite a bit. At 3 AM, they were more painful than the prodromal labor I had experienced the week before (I had 4 days of “early labor” that never progressed the week before). And these newer, more painful contractions got much closer together.

Still, my MW was unconvinced over the phone that I should come into the birth center. Since I had never labored before in actuality (my previous C-section followed a several hour induction that did not work- I never dilated at all), this birth was going to be more like a first birth- and could be days at this level of labor. I was probably better off going to the hospital, she indicated- getting pitocin to get a baby out that may be in danger. I was crushed. I wanted a chance to labor in a non pathology environment, ya know?

Judi, my MW, could tell I was upset by this pronouncement. After a few minutes, she called back and said- “How about you come in to the birth center around 2 PM, and I’ll examine you. If you are far enough along, we can try to birth at Sage Femme- but we really do need the labor to begin in earnest today- for the baby’s sake. No amniotic fluid is dangerous. If you are not progressed, you can head over to UCSF.”

I was thrilled just to get the chance. I knew (don’t ask me how- I just did) that I would be dilated to at least 4 cm when she examined me. In fact, I was at 5 cm. Now Judi was prepared to take the labor seriously! She started to monitor the baby during contractions and was immediately dismayed. His heartbeat was dropping way too low (70 BPM) during contractions to be safe for him. He needed out of me, and fast! An ambulance was called, sending me into a hospital panic.

The paramedics insisted that I go to SF General instead of UCSF, as it was closer, and this was a real emergency. So I wound up in a hospital I never visited before. Scary. We (Judi the MW, Wolfy the Doula, and I) arrived in the ambulance and O’bee followed in the car with our stuff. He actually got there before we did!

They wheeled me in and all of the sudden, my support team was gone. I was being wheeled into an OR (gulp) for examination and 12 or so doctors and nurses are all talking to one another (not me) about me. It was scarily reminiscent of the first C-section and it was freaking me out. “Why am I in an OR?” I demanded between contractions. “I don’t want a C-section!” “Where are my people?”, I kept asking. Hardly anyone talked to me directly, and kept examining me and talking to one another about what to do to me.

Eventually, Judi got a nurse to give her scrubs and ran into the OR and appeared upside down over my head as I lay on the table. She was invaluable- as she was the only one there I knew and trusted. She ran interference and translated for me. Thank heavens for Judi.

Luckily, they decided to fully examine me before cutting me open. They learned that I had dilated to 9+ cm during the short time between Judi’s exam at 2:30 and then. I had successfully willed myself to open open open! I was happy when Judi told me I had a window of time to try and push myself, before they opted for a C-section. “Make these contractions count”, she said.

So push I did. Holy Fuck, did I push. I had three more contractions in which to push the baby out and I have never felt anything like that in my life. Nothing in birth class or in reading books prepared me in earnest for what it felt like or the extreme nature of my situation. Judi was amazing at helping me keep my focus and directing my pushes and breathe out my ass, not through screams and moans from my mouth.

It was around this time that O’bee (my partner and the baby's father) also appeared in the OR- he got there to witness the actual birth and see me split apart to bring our son into the world. I was too dazed to register him at the time verbally, but I remember thinking, “he wasn’t here just a minute ago…” I was glad he was able to get in- not just to see what birth is like, but now he would be able to be with the baby after he was out, since I could not be.

After the second set of pushes, they let me know that they were going to guide the baby out using a vacuum extractor- not much, just a little. After that third round of pushing, he was finally out. I could not believe it. They immediately took him away to examine him and I stayed lying down, and the placenta plopped out of me.

The baby was covered in meconium (prenatal baby poop-eew) and they worried that he had swallowed and inhaled it as well, possibly leading to an infection. They immediately removed him from the OR and passed him through a window where they began suctioning him. O’bee followed the baby to supervise the activities (and make sure they didn’t circumcise, vaccinate, or do other unwanted things to him). I was merely able to view a crowd around the baby and hear his crying while this was going on.

I ended up tearing a bit, so I stayed in the OR (impatiently) while they worked on the baby. As they were wheeling me out to recovery, I asked, “When can I see my baby?” They responded that he was having trouble breathing and he needed oxygen in the NICU. As soon as I was able to not be in bed, I could see him there. ARGH!

Again, my plan was to bond with the baby, skin-to-skin within the first hour of life on the outside, and start to breastfeed. “When will that be? An hour? Two?” They responded that in a few hours they would be happy to wheel me there, but that I had lost a lot of blood and they were making sure it slowed down first for my own sake.

I was taken to a room and my doula was there to help. I stayed there impatiently until we were told that I could see the baby in the NICU. I got into a wheelchair so that I would not gush blood everywhere (gravity is not your friend in this regard post-partum!) and Wolfy wheeled me there.

Rowan looked so small, and was attached to an IV (sugar water, for energy, since he could not feed right away) and monitors for his heartbeat, breathing, and oxygen saturation in his blood, as well as being under a little oxygen dome. He had very little human contact that wasn’t poking, prodding, or against his will. I was a little choked up seeing him like that. I stroked his little hands, and got as close as I could to him, hoping that he could focus and see me.

They then told me what the plan was for him- they were gradually cutting back on the amount of oxygen in the mix he was breathing, all the while monitoring his blood saturation. When I visited, he was on a mix that was 40% oxygen, and regular room air is 21%. Once he was down to 21% and his saturation stayed in the ninetieth percentile, he would not need to be in the NICU anymore. He was also being given several antibiotics, since the meconium issue reared its ugly head. But after the oxygen was resolved, he could get his antibiotics without having to stay apart from me.

At about 5:30 AM on Sunday, he was finally wheeled into my room, where he stayed with me for the rest of my hospital stay. I was so happy to be able to hold him and start breastfeeding and bonding. That first night, my doula stayed in the hospital with me, and O’bee stayed at a friend’s in SF (I am only allowed one overnight person at a time). When he arrived the next day for visiting hours, he got to see Rowan and do skin-to-skin contact right away.

We were there for 2 days- to ensure both baby and I recovered fully and to be sure the blood cultures of the baby’s didn’t grow anything funky that needed to be treated. While we were there, we got great tips on breastfeeding from several people- lactation consultants, my MW, and some nurses that really worked out well. By the time I left, my milk was starting to come down and the baby’s latch was great.

We got home Monday afternoon and were so grateful to have time to sleep as a new family and slowly acclimate to our new way of life. On Tuesday, I picked up my birds and we started to resume what would become our normal life.

My pain is present but manageable. I don’t know exactly how many stitches I ended up having, but I need pain meds to get around right now. Hopefully, they will heal quickly and stop aching soon. The baby is doing great- eating up a storm and we lucked out- he is mellow in temperament and not fussy.

That’s good, because I plan on doing PantheaCon again this year, this time with a newborn in tow!