PeekabooNWA

A Water Birth Story

Posted on 30. Aug, 2009 by admin in Personal Stories

My birthing story is a bit unusual in that the setting occurs in my home, rather than a hospital. I experienced two wonderful births at the hospital with amazing doctors — doctors that I had worked side by side with as a maternal/child nurse. But this time home was calling.

It was a Wednesday, and the sun was setting. My husband fumbled through our storage building to find duct tape. My round, pregnant belly was barely visible in our bathroom mirror. Video camera in hand, I began recording. “This could be the night,“ I said. A smile came across my face. I saw myself saying the words, and my heart began to believe it. It was baby day.

It had been 40 weeks and six days of waiting. A baby whom I had never met, yet instinctively knew, had grown for almost a year.

My palms began to sweat as I lay the camera down on the marble vanity. We laughed nervously as we attempted to put the camera on a tripod that our precious friends loaned us. I laughed harder as my husband pulled out a bungee cord. We adjusted the camera so that it was pointed accurately in the direction we anticipated the birth to take place.

My round belly drew up in a warning contraction. I moved slowly out of the bathroom and fell to my knees on my birth ball. I took slow deep breaths, attempting to stay ahead of the waves that were crashing over me. As the contraction peaked, I felt a moment of panic wash over me. This was getting hard. These were different.

My husband moved quickly, paper, pen, and stopwatch in hand. I knew he was timing these as our midwife had instructed. Neither of us desired for her to make another trip over here unless a baby was coming. After two days of early and active labor coming and going, we were both anxious for the real thing.

The contraction was over. “That was a rough one,“ I said, taking in a deep breath. I moved over to the bed and laid down. Just the movement triggered another contraction. This one came with a vengeance. I moaned, twisting and turning on the bed. This contraction was long, and just when I thought I was at the peak, the intensity increased. I began to cry. It’s the first time tears had come from pain. The frightening feeling came back. I fought to stay in control. The contraction released.

This was it. The baby was coming. No doctor around to check me. No monitor strapped to my belly indicating the contractions I felt with every fiber of my being. I began crying and called out to my husband to please call our midwife.

“You have to call her. I can’t do this.” Tears were flowing. There was no breathing technique available in my brain to help this. Crying helped release the tension that was building, and the fear that threatened overtook me. All my knowledge as a maternal/child nurse was working in conjunction with my mommy knowledge to help me stay calm inside, yet on the outside, an uncontrollable amount of tears and moaning were taking place. One side of my brain was saying, “You can’t do this.” The other side of my brain was saying, “Hold on, that means the baby is coming.”

“I want to get in the bath. Please let me get in the bath.” I knew the only way to cope and find comfort was in my tub.

I made my way toward the bathroom, and another contraction brought me to my knees. I fell onto the waiting arms of my husband, and he held me while I cried.

“Take a deep breath. You have to breathe. You are doing so good.” My midwife’s voice and presence brought a calm and order.

The contraction was over, and through tears I said, “I have to get in the bath. Please let me get in the bath.”

A smile came over her face. It was a smile and a laugh so familiar — a smile that was a sweet reminder of the bond that had formed over months of long prenatal appointments, prayers, emails and phone calls. The birth supplies had sat patiently in anticipation. Sterile packages were ripped open, towels and blankets were warmed, the water was finally running.

I knew my husband and midwife were working quickly, but I couldn’t fight the pushing urges. Everything was in slow motion. I was helped into the tub, and the warm water wrapped me like a cozy blanket. Comfort and peace flowed through my whole body. My mind was suddenly calm and clear. I was fully in the present. My midwife continued to make preparations for the birth, and I asked my husband if he had remembered to turn on the camera and call our doula.

With my body acclimated to the water, the contractions began again. I took quick, panting breaths. It was working, and I felt the baby move quickly. My water broke with a loud pop; the pressure was almost unbearable. While I was silently begging for relief, the baby’s head emerged. The hardest part was over. And with one small push, my baby was out and in my arms.

My husband and I were crying as my midwife asked, “So what is it?”

Oh yes! The long awaited question. I pulled back the towel and my husband and I worked to gently move the tight legs.

“It’s a boy!” my husband exclaimed through sobs of tears. He leaned over with his hand on our son and kissed me.

“Hi, Benjamin,” I cooed. I held him in my arms soaking in every inch of his sweetness. The pain had vanished. I was in awe. “The Miracle of The Moment by Stephen Curtis Chapman played in the background. My husband turned it up louder and I heard his excited voice on the phone with the grandparents.

Scot and Rhonda Shaw live in Fort Smith, AR with their 3 children. Rhonda holds a bachelor’s degree in Nursing. She has worked for over 7 years in various maternal/child settings, including Newborn Nursery, NICU, and Obstetrics. Midwife: Shelley Wasson, LCPM, Doula: Jodie Hinkle