Wyatt's Birth

When I found out that I was pregnant with Wyatt, I was elated in all aspects save one: labor and delivery. Knowing this time around just how intense and painful the birth process is, I had less excitement shrouding it as fear. That emotion disappeared, however, as I approached my due date. All I wanted was to see him. To hold him. To have him be present in our lives. When November 30th came and went I kept thinking the baby's birth was right around the corner. Any day now. And yet I knew that every day that passed, the closer I came to feeling pressure to induce or to have some other medical intervention that would change the birth from what I hoped it would be. Since my Peace Corps days, I have desired to give birth naturally. Women in Niger gave birth in their mud huts alone and called the midwife at the end of the process to help clean up the baby. In my two years living in a small village in Africa I saw many babies be born and many die. However, I never knew of a child or a woman to die during childbirth. Upon reading more about natural birth when I returned to the United States, I long ago decided that I wanted that for my child and for myself. But with my due date a week plus in the distance, I began to fear that I would have trouble convincing my midwives to allow me to continue to wait it out. I had a weekly appointment set for Friday, December 10, and I was scheduled for a sonogram. I was determined to do my best to have the baby before that appointment, and my doula, Carrie, gave me a list of things to do. Along with Paul and my sister, we began to check off the list. I ate tons of pineapple, walked at the mall since the weather was so cold, ate spicey food, did deep squats, and tried anything I could to coax that little boy out of his cozy habitat. On Tuesday, December 7, I had contractions beginning in the middle of the night and continuing until about 11:00 am. Then they abruptly stopped. Next day, December 8, I began having contractions about every 25 minutes beginning at 1:00 am. They continued through the morning after we all woke up, and Paul decided to stay home from school. While I kept having contractions all morning, Paul and Greta made pumpkin bread and rice krispie treats. Lori and I sat around and tried to time my contractions. However, they were sporadic: 20 minutes apart this time; ten minutes apart the next time; then five apart and then back to 15 minutes apart. Because they were all over the place, I still was a little disinclined to believe that I was actually in labor. I talked several times to my doula who was helpful in giving me new and different positions in which to labor since the contractions were getting more intense as the day progressed if not closer together. The last time we spoke, it was 2:00 pm, and Carrie asked me if I would like for her to come to my house. I declined. I was still doing fine and thought I had a long way to go. By 2:30 pm, I told Paul that we needed to head to the hospital because suddenly, my contractions were one on top of the other and extremely intense. We packed up and drove the few miles across town and entered the hospital through the emergency room entrance. On the way I called Carrie and asked her to meet us there. I also called my midwife. Our check in time at the hospital was 3:00 pm. I was wheeled upstairs, went to my room, met the nurse, and changed clothes. About that time, Carrie arrived, Paul came in from parking the car, and within the next few minutes, my water broke. My nurse tried to coax me into allowing her to see how far I was dilated. Since I was beginning to feel the urge to push, Carrie convinced her that I was probably fully dilated. I began to push in earnest and suddenly the room filled with nurses. Within two or three pushes, Wyatt was born at 3:23 pm with the help of some very kind women and not a doctor or midwife around. Indeed about 30 seconds after the birth, a resident doctor came in, saw that Wyatt had been born, turned on his heel and walked back out. I was given my new child and he lay on my chest and nursed on and off for the next few hours. It was incredible. My midwife arrived after the birth and just hung out talking for the next hour or so. Once she and Carrie left, Paul and I were alone with Wyatt for the first time. What a beautiful little one. Despite my worries of medical involvement, I ended up having about the least medically intervened upon birth possible from a hospital setting. It was fast and very intense, and Wyatt was born highly alert, able to nurse well, and free of drugs. It was all as I'd hoped. Today Wyatt is two weeks old and is such an easy baby. Once again, we are very fortunate and feel full of joy.