Motherhood: a birth story
To become a mother, or to become a parent.. there are many ways this comes to be, and it means something different for everybody. This birth story is about my second full-term pregnancy with the twins. Two years prior I gave birth to our daughter, Josephine. She made me a mother. She was born silent and still, and was perfect in every way. She had her own path, one that wasn't with us physically on Earth. Although I'm not a religious person, I am spiritual. I feel her and know she is with us in another form of radiant energy. I'll share more about our journey with death and grief in a later post.
I was 35 weeks pregnant. Bartlett was Baby A and Lake was baby B. Bartlett was breech and Lake was transverse- this is not considered to be "optimal" fetal position for a vaginal delivery. I tried like hell to do all the things I know to do (I'm also a birth doula!) to encourage the "optimal fetal [plural for us] position", but to no avail.
At my 35 week doctors appointment, she suggested I schedule a c-section. As I walked out of the office that day, we were officially on the calendar to meet these little people in 3 weeks! My dreams of bringing home a baby were within reach!!
The next day I went to visit with my mother and aunt- we went out to get some groceries and food to freeze for when the twins arrived. We also enjoyed a creemee and nice afternoon conversation in the sun. Before I left, my aunt asked if she could take a few pictures of me- she specifically said this could be the last chance to get a photo of me being pregnant. She took two photos and I packed myself and Olive Jane, our 18 year old Boston Terrier, into the van and went to pick up Keith from work. We went to pick up his truck at the garage and then I followed him home.
On the ride home I started having waves of contractions. This was nothing new as I had been experiencing these surges for many weeks. I assumed they would go away when I got home. By the time we were in Hinesburg I thought it would be wise to start timing them. They were 4 minutes apart and starting to take a lot of focus to get through. I called Keith to let him know that when I got home I needed to lie down and have something to eat. I would drink a lot of water, and with a full belly of nutritious food, they would go away. I was probably just dehydrated and tired from a busy day.
I propped and positioned myself, with all of the pillows, on the couch. Keith made me stuffed salmon and a flatbread. I have never eaten that much in my entire life! I just kept asking him to bring me more and more. He still talks about the amount I ate that evening. At this point my contractions were every two minutes and lasting at least a minute. My experience as a doula told me I should go to the hospital, but I was still in full denial. I called my doula, Emily, and talked to her about what I was experiencing. Sadly, because of COVID, she wasn't able to be at the birth with us. Emily was my doula through my pregnancy and birth with Josie, and I was with her through all of her births.
After talking with Emily, I decided to take a shower and then call the doctor. My doctor advised me to make my way to the hospital. We arrived around 9:00pm. I insisted that Keith park in the garage and let me walk up to Labor and Delivery. When we checked in with the COVID triage desk they, and Keith, insisted I sit in a wheel chair- I did, begrudgingly. After all, I still didn't think I needed to pack our hospital bag. I was so determined to carry these babies to 38 weeks!
The L&D front desk greeted us and showed us to our room. They hooked me up to monitor the boys' heart rates and to monitor my contractions. By this time the contractions felt like they had slowed down. My doctor came in and checked my cervix- I was 3 cm....
"We're going to monitor you for the next hour and check you again and make a decision based on what comes about in the next few minutes."
An hour passed and she checked me again. She left the room for a minute and came back in to chat. My cervix was now 5 cm dilated and my contractions were still very consistent, but I wasn't noticing them like I was earlier. I asked "Can I go home?"
"Oh no. We're prepping the operating room for you now. You're going to meet your babies in the next few minutes!"
Bartlett Putnam and Lake Davenport were born 50 minutes later at 12:53 & 12:57 am on June 12, 2020. The swell of emotion and love and fear and anxiety and grief poured out of me, along with my babies and body fluids onto that operating room floor.
I think the physical departure of the baby from the mother, or person's body, only represents a fraction of the birth process. The growth, and change and accommodation and the mental rollercoaster of the fourth trimester is the birth, of the Mother.
To all the birthing people and to all of the people trying so desperately to get pregnant- I admire you and your strength and your courage. This is magnificent and really fucking hard, and I see you and all that you are doing or have done. Thank you! I hope you find time to love yourself and treat yourself in whatever way feels best.
On a whole entirely different note- I struggled to get pregnant for 6 years. Mother's Day can be a very painful day for those trying to have a baby. If you, or anyone you know, wants to talk about their struggle and journey with infertility, I am always here. Please don't hesitate to reach out or to share my information with anyone that might find this comforting and helpful.
Give yourself grace and take good care.
Love & light,
Lisa