I've been thinking about this blog --
is it selfish to write all about myself? what if I'm applying for a job and some scientist reads it finds me too silly to hire? -- and have decided that it is my scrapbook. Here in electronic form (yay, no clutter!) are joyful things I want to remember when I look back on these years that are racing by and not being particularly well recorded by my short slept brain. So, in the interest of recording joy, here is Mark Lawrence's birth story.
A warning: I love detailed birth stories and am fascinated by the compulsion women have to share theirs. If you, however, prefer to believe babies arrive via stork, go ahead and skip this post.
Luke's big push on Mozilla's Jaegermonkey finished just before my big push started. He'd been putting in long hours and just after midnight on Saturday he came home and told me he'd reached a point where it wouldn't be too difficult to take paternity leave.
At 7 am Sunday morning, my water broke.
It was just a drizzle. I took a shower, woke Luke, and started feeling light contractions by 8:30. I called my wonderful midwife and wonderful neighbors and told them that there might be more news soon. Our family jumped in the big red car and headed off for some breakfast, but by the time we reached the 2nd stop light, my contractions were strong enough that I didn't think I could sit still at a table. We went to Jamba Juice instead. I chugged a cold purple berry something and remember thinking it was wonderful. Because the neighbors were heading to church at 10:00, we decided to drop Scott off and then think about heading to the hospital.
By the time we got back home, the contractions were SERIOUS but still around 10 to 15 minutes apart. We decided to drive toward the hospital (they were REALLY SERIOUS) and go in if they were closer. We arrived around 10:30 and the contractions were every 5 minutes or so.
I remember standing at the check in desk and having to stop writing because a contraction was came on. It was intense and long. But I wasn't in pain -- I was smiling and felt kind of embarrassed. When midwife Lin arrived, I was 6 cm. Lin said it was decision time: did I want an epidural? I was so curious about unmedicated childbirth, but not sure I was up for it. But in that moment the contractions weren't overwhelming and I decided against an epidural. Lin looked at me and Luke, and at nurse Judi, and said "Okay, we are going to do this!" Midwives love unmedicated births. They are nuts like that. I looked hard and Luke and said "Luke, I really want to do this. But there is going to be a time when I fall apart and say I can't, and you have to tell me I can." (I probably said something much crazier, but that's how I felt.) And he looked excited and strong and said of course. And from then on he was so present and supportive.
I had some concerns prior to labor. You see, despite much time spent in inverted yoga positions and a visit to a prenatal chiropractor (how very California of me, I know), Mark was still "sunny-side up": facing my belly button rather than my spine. Also, I was anxious to see our little guy and find out if he was healthy. But as labor progressed, there wasn't time for worry, just work.
Now began my spa experience. Lin placed a large exercise ball in the tub for me to sit on. The lights were turned off and candles on. Luke sprayed warm water on my back and warm blankets were kept around my naked shoulders. Lin came in occasionally to rub peppermint and eucalyptus oils into my hands and thighs -- the scents were somewhat distracting, in a good way -- and Judi occasionally checked the baby's heart with a small, wireless monitor. I felt supported and free to do the difficult work of relaxing. I'm not kidding about the relaxing being difficult work. The second I tried to get away from a contraction my body started to hurt like crazy. But if I stayed centered and calm and thought about going deeper into the contraction, it was manageable. I didn't talk much. I did make lots of low moany sounds. I completely quit caring about being naked.
At about 1:00, things started getting wild. I felt mammalian. I wanted out of the tub and out of the bathroom. I labored on my hands and knees and started to think I couldn't do it. At two points I felt overwhelmed and exhausted and my body listened to my brain and stopped contracting for about 5 minutes. I think this is the amazing thing about unmedicated birth: your body's responses are not overridden by external drugs. I got to rest and was ready when they started again.
Lin broke the water (the tiny leak wasn't really letting things empty) and it was a wonderful rush and the next contraction was much more intense. I was all over the place: standing up, kneeling, on my side, scared and saying I couldn't do it, crying, screaming, pushing. Lin and Judi tied a sheet TIGHT around my belly to force the baby down. All of this seemed to take hours but it must have been about 20 minutes. Lin asked me to lay on my side and push. It didn't feel good. It felt awful. But I couldn't imagine that anything else would feel better, and I trusted her, so I did it. She pushed coffee grounds against my body while I pushed and the smell was another nice distraction. I held Luke and looked at the nurse while I pushed; I felt so needy, so intense, that I couldn't look at Luke because I didn't want him to see all that.
Then Mark's head was out! I thought we were hours away, but there he was! And just like that, I didn't care about my body, I cared about him! I remember crying "Help him!", which everyone was. A moment later, I pushed his body free, and he was lifted onto my body, both of us crying. It was 1:30, and he was big and red and warm and beautiful, with a tiny scratch from the hook used to break the water. He grabbed the necklace Luke had made for me. The second he stopped crying he started nursing, and kept doing so for 45 minutes until it was time for a little bath and check up right there in the room. Somewhere in there was a placenta and Luke cut the cord, but I don't remember those things.
My body seemed to recover quickly, partly because there were no stitches and partly because I wasn't getting over that medicated feeling. I was so glad not to have an IV in my arm. I did not, however, feel a mystical connection to all mothers of history like I thought I would. I did feel a great amount of thanks and complete amazement that a person grew inside me.
Our son. Mark Lawrence.
