The Power Within

There were three reasons I went with a midwife for this pregnancy:

1. I had a virtually complication-free pregnancy/labor/delivery with Woodstock.
2. The doctor billed me $2,500 just for delivering Woodstock. It wasn't even my doctor who delivered her, but one of the partners. He was around for only a few minutes total. My midwife charged $2,600 for the ENTIRE pregnancy, delivery and post-partum care.
3. I wanted to write my own labor/delivery show (as it turns out, I should go into writing ridiculously "truth is more exciting than fiction" screenplays, given the drama I managed to conjure up).

When I first got pregnant with Woodstock, I had virtually no opinion on the subject - which was probably for the best, since I also had virtually no knowledge of the subject either. Over the course of 9 months, I read a lot, talked to a lot of people and began to form opinions. Between my pregnancies, I continued to read and learn. My pregnancy with Pebbles' brought on a whole new dimension of learning.

Through it all, I've determined one thing - women should be given (and should take) the opportunity to direct their own childbirthing experience, medical complications notwithstanding.

My midwife and I talked a lot about what I wanted Pebbles' birth to be like. I had a great birth experience with Woodstock, but knew I wanted something more this time - more control, more intimacy and more dialogue with the medical establishment. We talked about my birth plan. We talked about my reasons for refusing a 39-week induction - standard procedure for patients on Heparin (standard only because it ensures the patient can have an epidural). We talked about how, after a pregnancy full of drugs, I wanted Pebbles to not have any more drugs in her system than necessary. We talked - and that was the most important thing. We had a dialogue, I expressed my concerns, desires, opinions and questions and she did the same. If she didn't have answer, we turned to the OB and the perinatologist I was also seeing throughout the course of my pregnancy.

It made me feel empowered - even through a pregnancy filled with all kinds of "surprises" (of mostly the not-so-fabulous kind). It made me feel like I was in control of things, which, for a reforming control freak is rather obligatory.

In the end, that sense of empowerment, that sense of directing my child's entrance into the world, proved to be almost divine. There is nothing like childbirth in the world. If you haven't given birth or been at the side of someone who has, you have missed out on one of the greatest moments life affords - because nothing comes close to replicating it. The births of both of my children were incredibly emotional and powerful. However, Pebbles' birth - nearly perfect were it not for Himself's absence - brought with it a whole new sense of power and awe and emotion.

Woodstock entered the world with me relatively calm - mostly because at the last moment, I'd opted for an epidural and could no longer feel anything but pressure below my belly button. I, however, was the only calm thing in the room. The lights were bright (it was, after all 9 in the morning), there seemed to be a dozen people, and the whole thing felt chaotic when she emerged with the cord around her neck. The resident snapped the cord, spraying us with blood. Woodstock was whisked away to help her breathing, then was weighed, measured, cleaned, wrapped and made "pretty" before I got to hold her.

With Pebbles, it was entirely different. I was in agony. No one seems to remember how bad childbirth is and therefore forgets to tell you (or opts not to). I'd forgone the epidural - not out of some hero complex, but because I really wanted to know what it was like to bear a child without having the lower half of my body deadened. I now know. And, truthfully, I really would do it again. It was hell, but it was the good kind - the kind that fills you with power and amazement and love and awe at the end, all of which cloud one's sanity and make you think it's possible to do it all over - just several years down the road.

Pebbles arrived with me the only one in chaos. I remember thinking I hoped the delivery room was sound proof because I was yelling like a banshee. In truth, it helped provide an outlet for my tense emotions so the lower half of me didn't tighten up and keep Pebbles hostage. But it sounded like I was dying. Everything else, however, was calm - almost serene. The room was dim - only one light. The pediatric team (I didn't even realize they were in the room) had been banished to the corner and was banished completely upon Pebbles' arrival. I witnessed the entire birth and felt the miracle of one's body doing everything just right. I watched as the little girl I had co-created entered the world - red, breathing and perfect.

One thing I had mourned with Woodstock's birth was not being able to hold her immediately - it was one of the most important parts of my birth plan. "If she's fine," I told my midwife in one of my prenatal appointments, "I want to hold her immediately. Everything else - including cutting the cord - can wait."

They cleaned Pebbles off as I cradled her in my arms. Eventually, Heidi cut the cord. Eventually, they weighed her and measured her and wrapped her in a cute blanket. But before all of that, I got to sit in the dim room, with angelic lighting, and marvel at the miracle of creation and birth and life. I didn't cry. If I cried, I wouldn't stop. The adrenaline prevented me from mourning the absense of Himself - only when it wore off would I profoundly mourn the one less-than-perfect part of Pebbles birth.

I felt good. (To be entirely truthful, I also felt a lot of pain - no one told me how many painful things happen AFTER the baby arrives!) I felt like I had made the right choice in birthing, the right choice in medical provider, the right choice in birth coach - and once again, I had drawn the right lucky straw in the nurse who spent the night by my side.

It will forever be one of the greatest memories of my entire life.

The experience made me realize just how much childbirth plays into the physical and emotional well-being of a mother, the bonding between mother and child and how empowering motherhood can really be. Motherhood isn't about being susurvient or losing oneself in dirty diapers, baby puke and sleep depravation. It is about holding hands with God, walking the fine line between heaven and earth for a few short hours. It is about creating and delivering the world's most precious resource. It is about being strong, believing in one's body and marveling at the miracle of biology.

It came from feeling empowered. It came from feeling in control and on top of the world. It came from the pain, the discomfort, the yelling - all centered in an oasis of strong, calm women - my village. It came from realization that there is an inherent bond among women when they experience childbirth together. It came from the sense of peace that flooded me as I held Pebbles in my arms - still warm and wet and sticky from her sojourn next to my soul.

For me, it was as close to the divine as I will likely get during my mortal journey. For that morning, I felt as if the veil drawn between heaven and earth was paper thin, and I was at peace.