September 22, 2009 was a Tuesday, and I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. I wanted to avoid getting too excited, despite a couple of loose stools and a feeling that something big was impending, so I went about my day as normally as possible. I ate some good food, did the dishes, folded the laundry. I had my 39-week appointment scheduled for that afternoon, so I got myself together to drive out to Goshen. I felt unbearably restless all day, and the 45-minute drive out to the Birth Center seemed longer than usual. I called my friend Annie on the way for a chat, but only reached her voicemail. I left her a message that she later described as sounding quite odd and not exactly like Eleigh, as though my voice was speaking someone else’s words. When I got to the Birth Center, they were uncharacteristically running behind, so I walked a few laps out in the parking lot. The air was hot and dense and I felt vaguely uneasy the way I get nervous before a big presentation or a meeting with someone I admire. I went back inside and had a cup of peppermint tea. They said they were still far behind, so I went and put gas in my truck at the station just down the road. I came back, did a few squats and stretches (I was forever doing squats and stretches during my pregnancy), and resigned myself to sitting in the waiting room and trying to quiet my mind with some yoga breathing exercises. Finally they were ready. My blood pressure was extremely low so they gave me a Capri Sun and some saltines. When Julia checked me, lo and behold I was about 1.5 cm dilated! She told me that the birth might still be as much as a couple of weeks away, but I knew active labor was imminent. That explained my utter inability to relax and be still all day!
Ben and I were meeting at his parents’ house for dinner. I tried to keep calm and breathe slowly, but I was so excited! I prayed the rosary as I drove from the Birth Center to Dave and Janet’s house, grateful for the time alone with God. I prayed for strength, courage and patience. Every few Hail Mary’s I had to stop and squeal with excitement! I knew I was going to see my baby soon! I didn’t want to put everyone in a frenzy, though, so I tried to be nonchalant at dinner. After all, it still technically could be days until the baby came, even if I was really in labor. We ate Mancino’s sandwiches, which I wasn’t thrilled about at the time and later regretted because they were a bit greasy and not exactly the good, clean food a person ought to fuel their body with before such a demanding physical endeavor. We ate and then sat around talking together as we often do over at Ben’s parents’. I mostly remember not being able to sit still, and drinking about nine cups of tea. I had to get up every few minutes to do something: go boil water, check the dishwasher, walk upstairs to the bathroom. My mind was reeling and my body felt like all my blood had been replaced by ants. I couldn’t figure out how to stretch my lower back in order to get at the dull ache that had been plaguing me for the past week. I also felt like I had consumed six or seven cups of coffee: I literally could not sit still longer than 90 seconds, and my brain was racing. I was having significant trouble paying attention.
On Tuesday nights, Ben gets together with his friends to play games, so he drove to Ken’s and I drove home. I double checked our bags and made a cup of tea, and then suddenly there they were: 60-second contractions, five minutes apart. I did some yoga and tried not to get too excited, and then I stopped being able to focus on remaining calm, so instead I focused on tracking my contractions. I felt a little bit out of my element and somehow unable to think totally rationally, so it felt good to collect data and write it down, even if it was on a coupon that happened to be in front of me at the time…somehow it seemed that there was no time to get a real piece of paper! Around 9pm I called Ben just to see how things were. He asked if everything was okay and I told him it was. No need to make him panic. If we were going to be up all night, I wanted him to have fun first and finish what he was doing. I took a shower and tried to keep myself distracted. At 10pm, however, I called and told him that he should probably try to wrap things up and come home soon. I think I told him that I was having what seemed to be regular contractions and I wanted a second opinion. He was somewhat miffed that I hadn’t told him earlier so that he could have come home to be with me. In any case, he came home and verified that I was really having 60-second contractions, 5 minutes apart. We talked for a little bit about what we were going to do and then we called the midwives. Patty was on-call and talked to me for a little while. She told me it sounded like the contractions weren’t going to go away since they had started as they did a little before 9. She asked which of the three rooms we preferred since at the time no other mothers were giving birth. I told her we wanted the Modern Room and she agreed to meet us there after about an hour. I made Ben change the sheets before we left, which he thought was ridiculous, but they needed changing and I knew we’d have no energy for it when we got home! I didn’t want to climb into a dirty bed with a brand new baby!
We left for the Birth Center between 1115 and 1130pm. On the way we called our parents to let them know that in all likelihood we would be returning as a threesome instead of as a couple. I felt nervous and excited, the way I always felt before a big performance or a big game. We arrived shortly after midnight and after some checks and a dose of antibiotics for Group B Strep, Patty suggested we lie down and get some rest. It was immediately clear to me that lying down was not an acceptable position for my body, so I went out into the Great Room to walk around and stretch while Ben got some rest. We hadn’t been there for long when the contractions changed drastically. They were following the same time schedule, but they now took all of my attention. I spent as long as I could in the Great Room on my hands and knees so that Ben could try and sleep. I was really looking forward to eating the fruit and yogurt we had brought with us, but I became nauseated from the intensity of everything, so I was not permitted to eat. After a much-too-short nap, Ben was awakened and the long, intense night continued to unfold. Over the next several hours I moved between the birth ball, the rocking chair and the Jacuzzi tub. Ben rocked me, swayed with me and rubbed my back until his hands cramped, but despite all my moving around and the love I was being shown, the labor was moving along at a glacial pace. At some point in the early morning, Rachel came to take over for Patty.
When I was checked and was only 6-7 centimeters, I began to despair. I had been focusing so much on relaxing and breathing and squatting and doing everything I could think of to help the baby move into the world. I was also becoming extremely fatigued! Rachel said they could break my water, but Ben spoke my heart and said we would give it one more hour. Since we had gotten there, my contractions had been absolutely rocking my world. I had never felt anything so intense, and I really didn’t expect the process to hurt as much as it did. Without Ben’s constant attention and encouragement I might have been overwhelmed with anxiety and panic. It was such a blessing to be where we were at the Birth Center with attentive midwives and no pressure to be in a hurry. Despite my best efforts, I was not fully prepared for the intense power of labor, yet I felt safe and free to move and vocalize with liberty. When Ben first joined in with my deep, tonal chants instructing the baby to move down and my body to relax, I experienced a split second of self-consciousness in which I thought he was teasing me. We were standing face-to-face, swaying, and he reassured me that he was only joining in to encourage and help, and in that moment I had a profound realization that he was doing a great deal of the work. It is hard not to feel a bit guilty about how hard both Ben and Rachel worked during the last hours of my labor. They fed me spoonfuls of honey and straw-fuls of juice, water and Gatorade, they both massaged my back, neck and arms In the tub, Ben held the sprayer over my back with one hand while he kneaded my muscles with the other. I wanted this labor to end not just for my sake, but for theirs as well! I hope that when Ben looks back on supporting my weight while I squatted over the toilet and violently shook my thighs, he laughs and isn’t disgusted!
Somewhere around 6 a.m. we decided it was late enough for Ben to call school and tell them he’d need a sub for the next few days. Shortly before dawn I had moved out of the water and was sitting in the rocking chair, dozing briefly between ever more powerful contractions. I woke up with one particularly powerful wave with a sense of progress and excitement: my water had finally broken! Rachel helped me to the bed again to check me and said I was about 9 cm and that I could go back into the water. The amniotic sac had gotten sort of wedged in between my uterine wall and the baby’s head, so she gently helped the rest of the sac to rupture and then I practically sprinted to the tub. One of the next contractions was different: it was so overwhelmingly powerful that I felt as though my body had been taken over by an alien force. Rachel checked me quickly and told me that I could start pushing with the next contraction! After the hours of hard labor, I was infused with an unreasonable amount of fervor and desire to be done. I wish I had relaxed a bit, but I pushed with all my might during the next two contractions. Ben and Rachel helped me flip over onto my hands and knees for the big finale. In the moment it didn’t seem like I could move at all, but it was really quite easy with their help, and it made the birth much easier. I pushed twice and then felt the unmistakable pleasure of the baby FINALLY crowning! I reached down to feel his head and then, losing all track of my sense of reason, I bore down and exploded that baby from my womb! Ben caught him and both husband and baby began crying. It was 1135am on Wednesday, September 23 when Ben brought my first-born baby boy to my chest, all purply-red and covered in white vernix. I checked to see if he really was a boy (he was!), and I cradled him to my heart. I was absolutely beaming. I have never felt so accomplished in all my life! It took a good 20 minutes or so for his cord to stop pulsing, but when it did Rachel and Jill (a midwife in training) clamped it so that Ben could cut the cord. After a while I delivered the placenta and we all got out of the bath. After a few minutes I successfully got my son to latch on and nurse. It was a strange sensation that I know I will never experience in the same way again, because there is only one first time you can nurse a baby! Ben was lying in bed next to me and so we finally broached the topic of a name. We had been utterly unable to agree on any name, but Ben suggested either Francis or Thaddeus and we decided that Thaddeus sounded right. Abe Lincoln’s favorite son was called “Tad,” and we liked the nickname. I thought my first son’s middle name should be Benjamin after his dad. At some point Rachel had to stitch me up a bit: I had torn quite a bit by pushing so hard. Over the next few hours we dozed and ate fresh bread with butter. Ben’s mom drove over and brought us chicken and noodles. We took a bath in the Jacuzzi tub and I washed my hair. Everything was surreal and I was absolutely overwhelmed by a feeling of peace and security and joyful excitement. After a few hours we were well-rested and ready to go home. They took our picture and helped us to be on our way. Ben’s parents met us at our house and brought us Subway. After they left, we all crawled into our nice big, clean bed and took a long nap as a family!
By Eleigh Tricker
