Debra Pascali-Bonaro

Awaken Your Inner Wisdom

Birth Stories

Courage to Birth Video Chat with Roanna Rosewood

By Leave a Comment

“Thank you! You have given me so much to think about, and the idea that without challenging our fears we cannot be courageous, going towards uncertainty, made my perspective totally shift.” – Olive

OB Conf. CouponRoanna is the bestselling author of Cut, Stapled, & Mended. She’s an international speaker, co-founder and host of Birth Plan Radio, and the executive action chair of Human Rights in Childbirth. Roanna joined Debra for the Orgasmic Birth Virtual Conference to discuss having the “Courage to Birth.” In the video excerpt below, Roanna discusses her quote “we cannot numb ourselves to fear, pain and death without also numbing ourselves to courage, pleasure and life.” To view the full discussion and full conference, please visit http://www.orgasmicbirth.com/orgasmic-birth-virtual-conference/

Receive 50% OFF until December 21st using discount code: Thanks50

Here is what Ashley wrote in response to Courage to Birth…

“Thank you so much for this video! I am currently in the 22nd week of my 3rd pregnancy and trying to prepare to be in the birthing mindset. My other two kids are 12 and 9, so it has been a while and this was a surprise. My first birth, I thought I was prepared. At 22 I was pretty naive. I thought doing the classes was enough. My son’s birth was pretty traumatic. A very long labor, he was face up and with a narrow pelvis birth became very stressing on him and me. He was at a dangerous point in which fast action was needed. It all ended up with a ton of interventions. Including a 4th degree episiotomy, failed vacuum and forceps. It was so traumatic for me.

“I ended up finding a doula to help with the next birth. To bring focus and calm. Again, I thought I was prepared. What I hadn’t prepared for was the FEAR of getting to the point of delivery. I was doing so well, then at 7cm working with my two support people and then I panicked about delivery and it being a repeat traumatic situation. I asked for the epidural, not because I was not handling the pains of labor…. not because I couldn’t do it anymore, but purely because of the fear. Her birth was so much better but there were still some unnecessary interventions that go around all because of my fears.

“I have to be honest with you. I never even really thought about that much until watching this video. Now I’m realizing that there are a whole handful of fears that I had during each that were holding me back. One simple one that you mentioned, the gown! It kept me from going into positions that would have felt right to me and probably helped progress labor in a better way. This whole pregnancy has been much different than my others. I’ve had this positive mantra going through my head and I think it has really helped. I’m starting to get just as much excited about the labor and delivery side of things as I am for seeing my sweet baby!

Thank you again for sharing this videos. It has definitely inspired this momma.”

We hope you enjoy this clip as well as all the conference videos. Enjoy your savings until December 21st!

Finding Pleasurable Birth in VBAC

By 2 Comments

"The moment her eyes find mine, she quiets, recognizing me though we have never seen each other. We are even more connected than when we were still one body."
“I cradle her to my left side, to my heart, to where the first sound she hears is the steady and familiar beat of home. She is slippery like a dolphin and oh so soft.The bright cord, still pulsing food and oxygen, entwines us.”

Roanna Rosewood’s Cut, Stapled, & Mended: When One Woman Reclaimed Her Body and Gave Birth on Her Own Terms After Cesarean is an incredibly honest, exquisitely written book for mothers, women recovering from traumatic birth, doctors, midwives, nurses, all birthworkers, expectant parents, pregnant women, and fathers.

Cut, Stapled, & Mended is like a beautifully detailed birth story arching over Roanna’s first two cesarean births and third birth- a healing, pleasurable, bubbly VBAC, complete with her insights to birth and a broken maternity system. The book is about childbirth and about “the exquisite and raw birth of a woman” and we get to witness this via delightful treks into her life of running a restaurant, traveling to Hawaii, and mothering her two boys and husband who have creative ideas of play: “When the dish soap goes missing, I find it and the three of them on the trampoline.They have added water from the garden hose and are jumping—Dad and Avram fully clothed, Jonah buck-naked—in mountains of suds.”

“No.”Again, she allows me to interrupt her.“I don’t need to sleep, I’ll take Pitocin. I’m fine. Really. Give me Pitocin, or Cytotec even. I can do this.”
Desperate to avoid cesarean, mom says: “I don’t need to sleep, I’ll take Pitocin. I’m fine. Really. Give me Pitocin, or Cytotec even. I can do this.”

Sadly the most challenging part of Roanna’s story is common to so many- as consumers we trust our doctors and facilities only to find this approach didn’t work. Roanna admits: “As an articulate person, I had assumed I would be able to rationalize through labor, to troubleshoot, to concentrate and verbalize and make decisions. I was wrong.” After we are taken thru the heartbreak of this very traumatic first birth, we head towards her second birth with more optimism and although, it too results in cesarean surgery, the experience is better and mom is able to employ different pleasurable birth techniques: “Our Hypnobirthing routine works well. I don’t experience “pain,” the surges continue to be manageable.” And after the surgery they receive MotherBaby Friendly care: “I am grateful for the gift of this profound time, to be the first person my baby sees, to allow the familiar beat of my heart to comfort him, and to have the dignity, privacy and warmth of my little cave…””

Roanna and her Merbaby
“The moment her eyes find mine, she quiets, recognizing me though we have never seen each other. We are even more connected than when we were still one body.”

For birth number three, mom goes into full training mode even having found acceptance: “If we have to go through a cesarean, it will be okay. Birth is not everything.We have an entire lifetime to share.” But instead she finds herself in a place where she can say: “Where before there was pain, now there is only exquisite pleasure.” And to her a “merbaby” is born!

This is such an important and beautifully written book for anyone preparing for pleasurable birth, recovering from traumatic birth, as well as all birthworkers- doctors, doulas, nurses, and midwives alike. Enjoy your read of Cut, Stapled, & Mended – you won’t want it to end!

Slide04

Roanna with 2 of her 3 children and her wonderful midwife, Laura.
Roanna with 2 of her 3 children and her wonderful midwife, Laura, at book launch party.

Roanna is an the author of  Cut Stapled and Mended: When One Woman Reclaimed Her Body and Gave Birth on Her Own Terms After Cesarean, an award-winning international speaker, co-founder and host of Birth Plan Radio, and the executive action chair of Human Rights in Childbirth and most importantly, a mother. In her not-so-humble opinion, the latter makes her a true birth expert.

Hear more from Roanna in the en*theos Orgasmic Birth Virtual Conference as she discusses Finding the Courage to Birth and how we cannot numb ourselves to fear, pain, and death, without also numbing ourselves to courage, pleasure, and life. Labor doesn’t come from nowhere, when contractions begin. It’s the physical manifestation of our experiences throughout life and pregnancy. Fear of labor isn’t bad thing. It illuminates the specific work you can do to prepare for labor.

Childbirth: A Memory of a Lifetime or Not?

By Leave a Comment

(Including Penny Simkin’s new video)

Have you thought about what you want to take with you from your birth into the rest of your life? What birth story do you want to tell your children and grandchildren? Have you wondered how you can create Pleasurable Birth Memories? How to find and hold your power?

I was recently reflecting on my life and of course that includes my births- being born, giving birth and the many births I have been blessed and honored to attend. Having a birthday and celebrating another year provides a wonderful opportunity to be grateful for all of life’s experience, connections and lessons as well as time to ponder what elements create lasting positive, pleasurable memories, especially when it comes to childbirth – my life’s passion.

naomi2I first learned about the importance of a woman’s  birth memory from a special mentor to me and co-founder of DONA International, Penny Simkin. I encourage all birth workers to reach Penny’s classic article, “Just another day in a woman’s life? Women’s long-term perceptions of their first birth experience” a study which analyzed the long-term impact of the birth experience on a group of 20 women. “Women reported that their memories were vivid and deeply felt. Those with highest long-term satisfaction ratings thought that they accomplished something important, that they were in control, and that the birth experience contributed to their self-confidence and self-esteem. They had positive memories of their caregivers words and actions. These positive associations were not reported among women with lower satisfaction ratings.”

“I think because of what I experienced in the delivery room I felt powerless. I felt what I said really didn’t make an impact and didn’t make a difference.” – Mother quoted in Penny Simkin report

My grand-elder may not remember what she had for breakfast the day before but she will likely remember the words that were spoken to her and how she felt about her birth experience. This is no wonder since birth is a time when we are open, raw, exposed and vulnerable – open to possibilities. We are open to ecstatic moments between surges and also vulnerable to an edgy presence in our birthspace or the ice-cold touch of a hand on our belly. It can work both ways!

For too long we have felt birth was a day to get thru, we didn’t care how the baby came out. It’s one day in a woman’s life but as Penny Simkin, and others have shown us, our birth memory is impacted by how we were treated- if we were respected, if we received love and support, and at what level, if we had continuous companionship, if we were honored and consulted with choices and decision-making (informed consent and informed refusal). Together these factors create either a positive memory that will empower a mother, give her strength and power in all her life, or sadly, and too often today, when many of these elements are missing our maternity care system, disempowers women, leaving new mothers with an emotional scar. The emotional scar will provide a map to the deepest parts of the mother who knows that something was not right, that a day that should have been joyful, blissful and, yes, orgasmic, has turned sad, stressful and, for a growing number of women, traumatic. This is unacceptable!

“The birth probably increased my self-confidence, although it’s not something I perceived at the time. It was definitely something major that I had done. In some ways it was probably a watershed, because it was one of the big things in life, and it happened to me in a very positive manner, in a manner that made me condiment that I could do it again, that I could do it- period.” – Mother quoted in Penny Simkin report

Birth is a day that can and should be transformative, powerful and blissful- creating an orgasmic feeling full of emotion and joy. Your birth memory will last a lifetime and plays a role in how you feel about being a mother, about your relationships and we now know can alter your self esteem to bring you more power and strength in all your life, or to take away and leave you feeling less than capable at mothering and future challenges.

 

So what creates a lasting positive powerful birth memory? Read my Key Essentials for Creating a Powerful Birth Memory for some ideas to get you started. You deserve to give birth with love, dignity and pleasure, creating a powerful memory that you will savor all your life!

Additional Sources: Mannava P1, Durrant K2, Fisher J3, Chersich M4,5, Luchters S, Global Health. 2015 Aug 15;11(1):36. doi: 10.1186/s2992-015-0117-9., Attitudes and behaviours of maternal health care providers in interactions with clients: a systematic review.

Srivastava et al. BMC Pregnancy and Childbirth (2015) 15:97 DOI 10.1186/s12884- Determinants of women’s satisfaction with maternal health care: a review of literature from developing countries.

My Birth Journey – to the Bathroom and Back

By Leave a Comment

This birth story is submitted by Milena Dyankova who shared her personal birth story with us after organizing a screening of Orgasmic Birth in Bulgaria in 2014.

My Birth Journey – to the Bathroom and Back

About a month before my due date I could finally take the long expected leave and finally focus on birth preparation. After a few extremely busy months I wanted to do yoga and other exercises to get tuned to and fit for birth as much as I could for the short period I had. Since this was my second birth I thought I had the knowledge I needed from my previous experience (what I call a mainstream hospital birth). And here I was the second night on my leave browsing through the Internet to find exercises I would like when I came across the idea of gentle birth. From one click to another a whole new world opened to me. I could not go to sleep until the early morning hours soaking information and stories on the idea of out-of-hospital birth. And it clicked with me. Strongly.

P2P_image 09My mind brought memories from six years earlier when I had read a story about a homebirth in the Eastern European country we were living in that had stunned me with the beauty, the calmness, the strength I had felt from the woman’s words. Now I was reading similar stories that had only recently taken place in my native Bulgaria. That gave me great courage – I thought if people in Bulgaria that was lagging behind on many areas were already doing it so could I.

The next thing I needed was to equip myself with the right reliable sources of knowledge and support. I didn’t need tons of information; I just needed something reliable and inspiring. And my research led me to Ina May’s Guide to Childbirth, a book by Ina May Gaskin and Orgasmic Birth, a film by Debra Pascali-Bonaro. Ina May’s Guide gave to my husband and me a good understanding of birth physiology and the factors that inhibit or stimulate it. It convinced me that my body was perfectly capable of doing what it needed to birth a baby without artificial stimuli (no induction, thank you very much). The Orgasmic Birth film was truly transformative – not only labor and birth were a natural event but it was not meant to be an ordeal, something to put up with to have your baby. On the contrary I saw they were an important journey that could take a woman to a high, even give pleasure, and most of all give her a chance to experience her own power. So I “planned” for an orgasmic birth.

To me it was very important labor to begin when the baby was ready. My first baby was born after induction when two weeks past due date (defined without consideration for the length of my cycle and the conception date that I still remember to this day) I was no longer able to stand up to grandparents’ pressure. And even though I realized how lucky my baby and I had been to have had those two weeks, I was very sensitive to the topic, and it seemed to me the last couple of weeks everyone was calling to ask when I was going to give birth. The daily visits to the doctor’s office were the most troubling. My husband and I had decided we would keep the arrangement with the doctor who was very favorable to women’s active role in labor and birth. Yet, as due date passed he insisted on daily fetal monitoring as this was the protocol. Five days past due date he wanted us to do the monitoring at the hospital and I agreed to a vaginal check. It was rough.

In the late afternoon my palms started to itch and in the evening the mucus plug fell. I thought the reason was the harsh check and felt upset with the doctor for intervening, yet I decided to let this feeling go and enjoy the evening. Around midnight I woke up with quite intolerable itching on the palms and soles that was feeling better by touching cold surface. I found relief placing my hands and feet on different spots of a leather armchair and soon drifted off. In the morning the itching was gone. It was a weird phenomenon that I had not experienced before and I could not find any reasonable explanation.

It was Saturday. The day passed leisurely yet the cold weather prevented us from a much desired walk to refresh my mind so late afternoon we went shopping for the guests we were expecting the following day. Throughout the evening the memory of the previous night was recurring and I appreciated the itching gone so I could get a good sleep. Or so I thought…

At 1:30 AM I woke up with a feeling I had only taken a light nap as I remembered moving my palms and feet looking for a cold place on the bed linen in my sleep. I felt the itching pretty strong so I headed for the leather armchair to find the cure from the previous night. My husband also got up and went to arrange something in the bathroom but I urged him to go back to sleep as he had also stayed awake the night before.

This time the coldness of the leather did not bring the same effect. I also started to feel menstrual cramps and I became quite restless in the armchair. Soon it dawned on me – the time had come. I knew I had hours ahead and it was better to rest and gather energy so I went back to bed. Yet, pretty soon I found myself up again trying to find comfort on the birth ball. It didn’t work either. The bath tub seemed quite alluring at that point and with desperate hope to finally find my place I woke up my husband and asked him to fill it up. As he took to fulfilling my request I sensed the peace of mind one feels when the imminent and long expected is finally happening. Joy was there, too, as I was finally having the baby when he was ready to come. It was March 8th, Mothers’ Day in Bulgaria.

The contractions became more frequent and stronger. I immersed in the water and my whole body relaxed as I sensed this was my place, my zone. Suddenly the light was too much and I asked my husband to dim it. He took a seat next to the tub and held my hand. Every now and then he was handing me a bottle with water. I started to drift away in my own world, my own dimension. I was aware of all that was happening to and around me, yet I was in my own distant space where I could surrender to the sensations and enjoy the deep gratitude for actually experiencing labor in its pure power.

When contractions came my body changed its posture and arched, and I was diving somewhere deep while some strong alt sounds were emerging from within my womb. Later my husband called them moose mooing. The sensations were very strong and although my work with the Sedona Method had clearly shown me that ‘pain’ was only a label we attach to a group of sensations, it was difficult to deal with the ones I was experiencing. I tried the welcoming and allowing techniques that had done a great job for me many times, yet I could not keep my focus on anything. I was riding strong waves and the mental efforts somehow made the pain tougher. Contractions were becoming more and more intense and doubt crept into me “Oh, my Goodness, am I able to do this?”

  • I can’t. I cannot do it, – a wail escaped my lips.
  • Yes, you can, – a comforting voice came across and when I looked up I met a warming smile.

Around 2:30 AM our daughter appeared in the bathroom, sat down next to the tub and started asking questions. I made an effort to respond, yet speaking was beyond my power. My answer was concise and I left it to her father to explain. However speech was disturbing and soon I asked for quiet. She stayed for a while, then went back to bed.

My husband was providing great support. Every now and then he would hand me over the water bottle reminding me to drink. I would take a couple of sips motivated by discipline rather than thirst. Soon I felt and urge to throw up. As if strictly following “the rules” my body started to cleanse itself. Although I was still in the tub with the original water, I was not feeling cold. After a few efforts my stomach was empty of its content and the urge to throw up disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Some time later I felt my face muscles contracting making my lips form an “O” and I realized this had accompanied orgasms sometimes. A slight regret crept in my mind, and then I smiled. As much as it was possible. Even though I was not having the orgasmic birth in the way I had envisaged it, my body was producing a similar reaction.

Each contraction was making my body arch and bringing some mooing sounds from deep inside. The pauses were short. I felt compelled to get out of the bathtub so I went out, put on a shirt and found my place of comfort on the toilet. My husband sat down on a small chair in front of me and held my hands. That was of great help as if him holding tightly my hands gave me additional strength. I felt his presence so comforting and solid, exactly what I needed to keep my focus on my job knowing there is someone there for me to take care of everything else.

Contractions intensified further and I started having bowel movements – apparently my body needed to cleanse some more. I was looking forward to the “rest and be thankful” phase so that I could take a little break, contractions were becoming stronger and stronger straining my whole body. And while I was thinking I’d finally found a way to ride the waves they started to grow into something different. The end of each contraction turned into a burning sensation that I could bear only screaming. The screams were tearing from my throat and I was thinking about the neighbors (we were living in a 6-storey building and the bathrooms underneath and above us had windows to a common space). Our daughter was sleeping in a distant room and the noise would not reach her. I was screaming at the end of the contractions squeezing my husband’s hands. He kept reminding me to drink yet I was already oblivious to the world around me.

“These are pushes,” a lightning thought cut through my mind. But there was supposed to be a break. “Where is my break?” I grunted in my mind in a miniscule pause between contractions. A few minutes later an impulse made me get up from the toilet and take all-fours position on the bathroom floor. While kneeling down my water broke. My husband asked what was going on and I responded that was it. I felt tired already. Pushes were becoming stronger and stronger and I screamed at the peak. I needed to push myself. The next one I joined and I felt the head moving down. My body seemed to have been stretched to the limit like a fully-bloated balloon.

I reached down to feel for the head yet it seemed my arm was not long enough. My husband realized birth was imminent and prepared himself. The head was slowly making its way downward. Energy surged all over me. Then the little body turned slowly and gently inside without any effort on my side, just like we had seen it on YouTube. I was strongly aware of the sliding inside, I felt as if electricity was going through me – my senses were acutely open and all perceptions came very powerful. Just a few seconds later the little body slipped out right into daddy’s palms. I turned around and sat down to embrace our baby who had been conceived with love and came to this world in an intimate environment where his dad and I were a team, one whole. My husband and I looked into each other’s eyes and I could see the same incredible happiness I felt. When I cuddled the little body the bathroom filled up with love as if coming from an invisible hidden spring. The incredible feeling of my own power and the grand power of Nature were going hand in hand with deep satisfaction. I was in awe with the wonders of Nature that had manifested through my body and I realized there was nothing I could not do. I had women’s power and strength.

p2pHeader

Last day to register for Pain to Power Summer Session is Thursday April 30th! Learn more today!

Naomi Ruth Fleisher’s Healing Birth

By Leave a Comment

naomi3

Photos courtesy: Ela Alpi 

I introduce this birth first and foremost as my second birth, my healer birth.

On a Monday night it began. I recognized the sensation, the roots of my being were beginning to quake. I called my midwife who stayed that night across the hall with our wonderful neighbors. I felt safe knowing she was so close by. I sang my daughter Alona Maya to sleep through my surges, and with help from two glasses of red wine and a nourishing dinner, I slept relatively soundly. I woke up in the morning, took a shower and stayed quiet. I took light steps and spoke quietly. I wanted to keep the holiness and remain concentrated. I remembered that when labor starts to pick up speed, there is nothing left to do but ride.

naomi7

After a nap, a little play with my daughter, some movement and deep breathing, the team began to arrive; my midwife Valeriana, soon her assistant Gayla, my doula Debra, and a documentarian, Ela. I had opened up my experience, this was Ela’s first time witnessing a birth. These powerful women held the space for me immediately. The attention and care was overwhelming, even intimidating, but they helped to foster my power and strength. Since things were slowing down, my surges farther apart though still strong and deep, they all agreed I should take a walk with my husband Isaac. My daughter was with our mother’s helper, and I felt safe letting her go for now in my mind, which helped me to release even more.

Isaac and I took a walk in the park a block from home.  The fresh air, the breeze and the trees calling out to me began to ignite my body. It was quickly time to head home. With Isaac’s help, while I swayed and held on, we made it in the door. With surges sending me into the walls and doorways, I made it into my room. From the moment I walked in the door, Isaac and Debra were in my ear and by my side. Their words of naomi5encouragement and support were empowering and grounding. I rocked on the ball, went to the bathroom, crawled to the floor, and was thrown into it all at full force. The deep rocking of the surges, and shifting tides within me, all the more powerful and quick. Even still, I was present, calm, and able to work with it. The midday sun filled our room and my focus narrowed to Debra’s voice guiding me and helping me down from the peak of pain. All around me my team was setting up our tub, cleaning our home, getting everything prepared. Caring for me in ways I couldn’t see, but could feel.

I made it to the tub, by then I could only focus on breathing through and falling into the sensations that were quickly becoming fast and intense, bringing me to my deepest level of strength. All the while held by these incredible people looking at me and keeping me safe. I sang out “I can’t do this, I can’t” and Debra responded with certainty and through a smile, “You ARE doing it!”  In the water I danced and sang through it, through the deep pain and pleasure of birthing my child, I gave birth to my Advah Lily. Through profoundly intense pushing and releasing, my daughter came into being. I am forever grateful.

Alona Maya napped soundly through the birth. When she awoke on her own Isaac brought her in, her eyes still heavy with sleep, to meet her new sister.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

Birth Story of Xquenda Luis Stockall

By 1 Comment

Submitted by his mama Monica Ann Stockall with photos taken by dad

Dedicated to Xquenda Luis Stockall

Stockall photo1

February baby. We’re here. I can’t stand the anticipation and uncertainty of not knowing when you’ll arrive. I tell myself it’ll be on the full moon of Saturday the 15th. I just can’t wait to meet you.

Valentine’s day. I bake you a birthday cake; a vegan dark chocolate spelt brownie covered in dried camomile flowers and topped with a 0 candle, which we have left over from your grandpa’s 50th a few months ago. I make heart-shaped banana muffins for your dad and the midwives who will be assisting me in your home birth. It’s snowing hard. Your dad comes home from work and surprises me with a beautiful rose. I put it on the birth altar I created at my bedside; inspiration for my body to slowly and gently open up to let you out. In the evening I listen to my Baby Come Out hypnosis track and wait for my birthing waves to start. They don’t.

We wait until Monday to dig into your birthday cake. I’m officially over 40 weeks pregnant. I know that babies need to come out before a certain time to be able to be safely born at home, naturally, without any interventions, with a midwife. Just as I’ve planned for us. I desire my ideal birth experience so intensely, and do not want to go near the possibility of having to go to a hospital for any reason. Sometimes at night I feel my uterus tense up gently. A sensation between a clenching fist and a hiccough in my huge belly.

Mid-week, I feel what I imagine to be my cervix opening gently. It feels like the ground opening up from underneath me. I can feel how close you are. I continue to listen to several hypnosis tracks every day, which help me so much to relax deeply, and confidently look forward to your birthing time. I’m constantly visualizing my body softening and opening to let you through. The power of deep breathing and positive affirmations is a radical new experience for me.

It’s Friday the 21st. I go to my appointment with our midwife, Marika. We talk about the possibility of eventually trying natural induction techniques. Primrose oil. Castor oil. Unsticking the membranes. Rupturing the membranes. She gives me a referral for an ultrasound and electronic fetal monitoring at the hospital. I accept it and pray you come out before the appointment. She offers to perform an internal check. Curiosity wins me over and I accept. To my great relief and uncontainable excitement, the smile on her face says it all: “We’re going to be seeing each other again very soon!” My cervix is already 80% effaced and 3cm dilated. My body has already silently started the work! I trust my instincts and know you’re really on your way now.

Your papito picks me up and I tell him the great news. I feel like all these months, you’ve been away on a long trip; now the wait for our reunion is almost over. The last leg of it is upon us. You’re coming home. I imagine you on an airplane. Still so far in another realm, suspended in a fragile space. Yet so close, about to begin your descent and landing very soon.

Our fridge is ridiculously empty so we decide to do groceries on our way home. On the way, I suddenly feel my first contraction. Real or fake, it’s intense and it scares me. I tell your dad to take us home instead. “Are you serious?” “Yeah.” He immediately turns the truck around. The feeling passes. I realize I just can’t welcome you home with an empty fridge. The fact that you’ll be on an exclusive breast milk diet for the next 6 months is besides the point. We turn around yet again and head to our favorite, cheapest grocery store. We joke about me giving birth to you beside their famous mountain of smelly dried fish at the back. No such thing happens. I don’t have a single additional contraction.

Back home, we have a nap. It’s now evening. Our kitchen light bulb burns out. We prepare a romantic candlelight dinner of homemade vegetarian poutine with cilantro and fried onions. Your dad goes back out in the rain just to buy cheese curds from the fancy overpriced grocery store not far from our apartment. I sense it’s our last supper just us 3, with Chia. An exquisite sunset of orange, pink and purple illuminates our kitchen window. I make more muffins, carrot and raisin this time. I go to bed early, around 10:30. I want to be as rested as possible for what’s to come.

I’m awakened at 1:15 in the morning by powerful contractions coming and going at regular intervals. They feel like the cramps I usually get on the first day of my menstruation. I’m surprised at how strong they are. I know it without a doubt; your landing is upon us. As much as I looked forward to this time, I feel scared. I wake up your dad to tell him. He reminds me, half asleep, “This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Try to enjoy it…” I ask him to grab his cell phone to help me time how spaced out my pressure waves are. I squeeze his hand and wake him up again every time one starts. They’re 3 minutes apart.

I say goodbye to my imagined romantic “latent phase”. There’ll be no easing into it. No burst of energy for last minute preparations while rocking out to my birthing day playlist of empowering feel-good songs, no calling my friend Léa who we’d planned would photograph your birth. No making love to get labor going. I come to accept it and get into action. I put on my Easy First Stage hypnosis track and try to go into hypnosis, as I’ve practised countless times before. I just can’t relax. I can’t even hear what the recording is saying. I try to visualize my special place. Imagine my anesthesia. But with every wave I just writhe and moan in intense discomfort.

I ask your dad to wake up and stay with me. I need him. I remember my “orgasmic birthing” techniques and we try passionate kissing during each pressure wave, to help me relax and produce more oxytocin, the contraction-inducing love hormone. I start to realize I might not have the easy, comfortable, painless and orgasmic birth experience I solely prepared myself for.

As my last hope I run a hot bath. Lavender salts. I light a candle in my clay candle holder that casts heart and diamond shaped shadows on the wall. Our apartment is in complete darkness, apart from the flame and a few Christmas lights we still have up. Our bath is so small and awkward to move in with my huge belly. The water doesn’t relieve me in the least. I ask your dad to make me hierba buena tea and stay close to me. He’s still so tired and sleepy. My pressure waves actually start to space out so I tell myself I better get out. I begin to travel incessantly from our bed, to the toilet, to the couch, and back again. I feel like I need to shit, piss and vomit, all at the same time, with nothing coming out. My uterus and thighs seem to want to crawl out of my skin. The power at work inside me is indescribable.

I realize the only thing that makes the contractions more bearable is making very loud, low guttural moans through my throat and mouth. Sounds I didn’t even know I’m capable of. Noises I’d be way too self-conscious to make in any other circumstance. They fall somewhere between a desperate cry and a sacred, entranced chant. Making them feels like release. Like freedom. Like pure, sweet surrender. I enter the sound and I stay there, safe inside its vibrancy, until the wave with its crescendo motion passes. Then I rest in total off mode, until the next.

At 3am, I call Marika. I tell her this is it. With that calm voice of hers, she asks me for details. I have little conception of how long my contractions are so we go through one together. She listens on the other end. She says she’ll be on her way. I settle for a kneeling position on the floor, leaning forward on the sofa. I brace myself for each contraction.

She’s here within 30 minutes. With tears in my eyes I tell her it’s not what I expected. She says “I know… It’s okay. You’re doing amazingly.” She proceeds to move all my things to install her material. Your dad helps her prepare the room. It takes them some time because we didn’t think to put the “homebirth list of things to prepare” things all in one place. I’m by myself while they do this. Even Chia’s set herself apart. I feel really alone.

The bedroom is finally ready. Your dad comes to get me. I climb on our bed and get back on all fours immediately. I prop my elbows on a stack of pillows. My head is down and my pelvis is up in the air. Ayayayayayayay… I hear myself say. I’m so thirsty. Your dad brings me glass after glass of water. I feel I can’t move any inch of my body. He pours it for me into my mouth. He places cold compresses on my nape and forehead. Touches me to let me know he’s there. Gently reminds me to relax and release.

My feet become ice cold. Marika puts my green wool socks on them, the ones I hand-stitched from an old sweater. The warmth and softness comforts me. She applies pressure to my lower back with her hands. She offers to check my dilation to know if it’s time to call the 2nd midwife who will assist her when you come out. I had told her I didn’t want to be checked because I was afraid putting a number to my progress would discourage me. But I just agree to it. I’m at 9.5cm. The pushing stage is very near.

I feel discouraged for a moment that my hypno-anesthesia isn’t working, yet I’m so relieved that everything is happening so fast. I’ll be meeting you so soon, honey. I wonder how on earth women choose to have more than one child. How they knowingly go through this. I mostly have no concept of time. I experience the present moment so fully. I feel propelled forward into the unknown at breakneck speed. I realize the only way out of this is through. I have to embrace it. Give myself over completely.

I start to speak to myself out loud. I repeat my learned hypnosis word-cues over and over. Like a mantra. I don’t care if they work or not, I’m using them. I feel I’m hanging on to them for dear life. “Release… relax… peace… Xquenda… open, open, open… powerful anesthesia in my uterus, in my cervix, in my vagina…” Over and over. Breathlessly. I feel like I’m out at sea all by myself. In the middle of a storm. I hardly have enough time to catch my breath before the next wave knocks me down again. I dig my claws into my stack of pillows. I feel I’m hanging on to the dear ground in the midst of a hurricane. Losing total control.

“You’re doing great, Monica”, Marika tells me. Those words mean SO much to me in this moment. At some point, Marie-Josée, the second midwife, arrives. Your dad tells me he’ll be right back, he’s going to make them all coffee. Coffee? Really?

I suddenly feel hot water gush out of me. I’m so relieved. It must be almost over. The urge to push is descending upon me. I try to push. I don’t exactly know how. Marika tells me to focus all my energy into my pelvis, instead of into the sounds I’m making with my mouth. “Make deeper, lower, grunting sounds even, as if you need to shit something out”. I try her suggestion. I’m amazed at the shift in energy. The power of it. The feeling of your slow descent… She informs me that there’s meconium in my water. That’s not a good thing. She checks your heartbeat with a doppler in between each contraction. It’s strong and stable, but she looks at me in the eyes and tells me I have to get you out sooner than later.

The pressure is ON. Figuratively, literally. So. Much. Pressure. There’s unbelievable pressure in my entire pelvic region. I momentarily feel scared at feeling my body open so much. I know there is no other way. I have to accept it. Run with it. Dive into it entirely. Your head starts to crown. Little by little. It keeps going back in. Over and over like that. An hour of back and forth. Back and forth…

Stockall photo 2Daylight is starting to creep into our room. They can see your dark hair. I’m riding the momentum of each contraction. I’m pushing down and screaming like a savage animal, a lion maybe, until I have no more breath or energy left inside me. Not because I’m in pain but because of the sheer power it gives me. I feel the excited energy in the room with each bit of you that slides out. I notice how it dies down as my own energy dwindles and you slide back in. I’m getting tired. Marika advises me to change positions. I lay down on my side with my leg propped up wide in the air, supported by someone. I try a few pushes in this position. I’ve had it now. I tell myself that with the next wave, you ARE coming out. I push, I push, I push until I feel an incredible burning in my vagina, I push until I can’t anymore and then I continue to push. This is it. Yes yes yes! I hear them say, so I don’t stop, I scream out every single last ounce of me that I possess, and finally… your head is out. I did it. I push some more and the rest of your body slides out in one awkward sensation. It’s 7:11 am on February 22nd. The moment of your birth.

Before I know it, a little grey-blue, slimy and bloody creature is handed over to me… YOU! They hand you to me and I lay you on my belly. I have no idea how to hold you. I can hardly believe it, that you’re really there, looking up at me with your almond-shaped eyes. I look over to your dad who’s lying down beside me and watching you with the same amazement and look of surprise that I have. We both thought this moment would bring tears to our eyes but it doesn’t, we’re both just in complete awe, eyes wide open, speechless. You start crawling towards my breast, searching for my nipple with your mouth. I try to help you but Marika suggests to let you find it on your own. You eventually do, and suck for a moment. Oh, how I’ve imagined this moment countless times! I look at you closely. I’m amazed at your full head of dark hair. The fine duvet on your back. Your tiny ears. Your long fingernails. You have your dad’s beautiful skin color. You’re still attached to me by your umbilical cord. My placenta comes out ten minutes later in a gentle gush. We wait a while before clamping it. Eventually our dad cuts the squishy cord attaching us together.

My emotions are indescribable. Joy. Love. Gratitude. Pride. Relief. Exhaustion. Adrenaline. Peace. Hunger. Vulnerability. Strength. I start to tremble. I feel so weak and lightheaded. I eat a muffin, drink some water. There’s a lot of blood coming out of me. The midwives give us some space to be together. They insist that I pee to help stop the bleeding. After a few tries I finally do. They clean up a bit, then start to stitch up the 2nd degree tear in my perineum. Your father lies on the bed beside me and holds you skin to skin on his chest. You’re quiet and wide awake, observing the world around you. You do your first pee on his belly. He holds my hand at the same time. They use anesthesia but I can feel the needle and thread go in anyway, countless times. I cry and try to be strong. This is the most unpleasant part of my birthing experience. They say it’s like putting a puzzle together. It takes them an hour to do it. God, please let them put this sacred aspect of my femininity back together correctly.

It’s finally over. I crave a shower to clean off the blood and clean clothes to cover my nakedness. I quickly have one and come back to bed and hold you. Your dad snuggles with us too, in between loads of laundry and preparing tuna salad for the midwives and me. Marika comes to weigh and examine you. I watch in amazement as she tests out your responses and reflexes. You weigh 8 pounds and 4 ounces.

I call my mom. She cries tears of happiness, in disbelief that she slept soundly through my labor. She can’t wait to meet you. An hour or two later, she comes over. The moment I see my own mother is when I finally feel the tears well up inside me… There are just no words to describe initiation into mamahood.

Written by Monica Ann Stockall
Montreal, Quebec.

 

21 Days of Pleasure

Birth of Marjolein’s Baby Adam

By 1 Comment

Marjolein Mensink is a Dutch Midwife who shared her background & first birth story with us in previous blogs. Here she shares about the birth of her second son, Adam.

Submitted by Marjolein Mensink

IMG_0798As I am getting closer to my due date I have mixed feelings: I still feel great and enjoy being pregnant so much, but I also can’t wait to meet the little person who’s inside me. Is it a boy or a girl (I think it’s a girl!)? Will he or she look like our son Ben? Also, I am very curious about how my birth will be. Ben’s birth was a great experience, he was born at home as I wished for after just four hours of labor and everything went well.  Having this experience in my mind, I am actually looking forward to having a new birthing experience soon.

Because Ben was born fast I tell my partner Jacco that there’s a chance that he will be the one to catch our baby if our midwife doesn’t make it on time. I don’t know any other man as relaxed as Jacco is, so the idea of catching the baby doesn’t get him of his feet. He jokes: ‘Well you know you can wake me up once the baby’s head is born’. Secretly I like the idea of doing it all by ourselves very much, but being a midwife myself, there is also a voice that tells me that this is something that we couldn’t do. After all, why wouldn’t a midwife want another midwife at her own birth?

My best friend Maartje who is also a midwife is staying near our home the weekend before my due date. Her home is a two hour drive from ours so only if the birth starts this weekend, Maartje can come. It’s a wild guess, but we both think it’s at least worth a try. Because of the distance and the bad weather she couldn’t be there when Ben was born.

Maartje comes by for a drink on Saturday evening. As I go to the kitchen to get her something, she says: ‘I just said to Marvin (her husband): how funny would it be if her water breaks when I am there…’ And you might not believe it, but right after this my water breaks (8.45 PM).

We are totally surprised and can’t stop giggling for a few minutes. This is great! There’s a very good chance our baby will come tonight and Maartje will be there with us. What perfect timing. Jacco’s parents come to pick up Ben for the night, Maartje prepares everything for the homebirth and I take a long shower. I am so ready, let the contractions begin!

That night…nothing happens. I am so disappointed and also surprised. I’m always looking for answers and I just don’t understand why nothing happened. Of course, I know that bodies and births don’t always work the same, but still. The ‘policy’ is to go to the hospital after 24 hours when labor doesn’t start and I start to feel this deadline slowly. We decide to pick up Ben and Maartje goes back to her family. She’ll be closeby until dinnertime, so there’s still a chance that she’ll be there as our midwife.

During the day I try everything: listening to music, taking long showers, massaging acupressure points, looking for distraction (going out for lunch and a walk in the park), but NOTHING works. Obviously I am very frustrated at a certain point. I want a homebirth so bad and hate the idea of having to go to the hospital. Actually, I am also very afraid that the birth will be more painful because of having to be on an IV and fetal monitor. I do always think everything happens for a reason so maybe it is just supposed to go like this. It might even be a useful experience for me as a (hospital)midwife.

In the evening on Sunday we go for a check up (in ‘my’ hospital) and plan to induce labor the next morning. We’ll be spending the night at home luckily. Maartje has obligations the next day and went back home, so unfortunately we won’t share my birth experience together but at least we have a funny story about the ruptured membranes. After another long shower I go to bed where Jacco and Ben are already in a deep sleep. This will be our last night with ‘just’ the three of us! I finally found more peace with the idea of not having another homebirth and try to sleep.

At 11.15 PM I get a really strange feeling, like something ‘breaks’ inside. I also hear a pretty loud ‘click’ which later I found out from my physiotherapist that this sound was the same as a ‘popping’ knee or elbow- there is a vacuüm inside the joint/pubic bone and when the head came down, this probably caused the vacuum to break. At the same time as I heard the click sound, the baby makes a very strong and uncomfortable move. This scares me because I don’t recognize it. My first response is to lie really still and wait. After a little while luckily I feel the baby moving again. Right after this there’s a huge contraction..and soon another and another. Also I almost immediately feel pressure in my pelvis.  It is soon clear that its going fast so I wake Jacco and ask him to call my colleagues and let them know we’re coming. Jacco’s mother will come for Ben so he calls her as well. Just a few contractions later I feel a lot of pressure and the urge to push. My first response is: ‘No way…now already?’ When I feel the same at the next contraction I tell Jacco that we won’t make it to the hospital. He calls to tell that we’ll stay home. Also he calls the midwifery practice, and asks if the midwife can still come to our house.

DSC_3771‘We’ll be fine honey, we can do this together’, I ensure Jacco. He is as calm as he can be and that’s very comforting for me. The urge to push is so strong that the only thing I can do is just let go. Just a few moments later the baby’s head is born. I tell Jacco we’ll wait for the next contraction and that the baby will then be there. At that moment the midwife calls and gives Jacco some instructions for the shoulders to be born. This goes smoothly and when I open my eyes I see Jacco holding up our second son! Another boy, I am so surprised. Also, he looks so different than his older brother. I am overwhelmed, surprised and intensely happy. A homebirth after all! And UC…how’s that for a hospital midwife.

Little Adam Jack was born at 11.49 PM and was doing perfectly straight away. A few minutes after he came the midwife rushed in to find a perfectly healthy baby, an overwhelmed mommy and superproud daddy.

We joked about this scenario in my pregnancy…waking Jacco up after the head was born? Well this was close!  What a special birth, what a beautiful experience! And what an amazing gift to have two sons. I still feel like the luckiest woman on the planet and am so proud of Jacco, Adam, and…myself and my body.

Marjolein will join Debra for the en*theos Academy Conference Fall 2014. Be the first to hear with easy enews sign up right here.

Birth of Marjolein’s Baby Ben

By Leave a Comment

Marjolein Mensink is a Dutch Midwife who shared her background with us in a previous blog. Here she shares about the birth of her first son, Ben.

Submitted by Marjolein Mensink

IMG_0469At home? You must be crazy. Isn’t that dangerous? It’s your first right? What if something goes wrong? I’d rather be at a place where I could get immediate help. You are expecting a pretty large baby aren’t you?

This is just a selection of all the comments I get being pregnant with my first baby and wanting a homebirth. The funniest (or maybe actually the saddest) was that of one of the gynecologists I work with, who asked if I also walk around town in my folklore costume, meaning that it is hopelessly old-fashioned to have a homebirth.

But my experiences as a midwife at home as well as in the hospital make me a 100% certain: for me, our home is the best place to be when our baby will come. Not only because I trust that nothing will go wrong, and if something seems to be going wrong I would still be in a hospital soon enough. But also because I’m very afraid that just by being in a hospital in the first place, unnecessary interventions will happen. My wish is to have as least interventions possible. Drawing blood is exiting enough for me, let alone having an IV or other ‘scary’ things. My partner Jacco is totally fine with it, he is as relaxed and carefree as I am, almost a bit ‘naive’ maybe. ‘If you say so, then I guess it’s so.’ How great is that, he puts all his confidence in my concerning the birth of our baby.

Obviously, my growing belly also gets the attention of the pregnant women and their partners I meet at work. I am surprised about how many people ask me if I’m not afraid of giving birth and especially the pain, since I see so many women in labor. My standard answer is that I am totally not afraid, because I always get to witness how strong women are. And it’s true: I’m not afraid of the pain and very curious on how a contraction will feel. To prepare for birth I do relaxation exercises, go to a yoga group for pregnant moms and listen to relaxing music every day.

My best friend Maartje, who is also a midwife, will be there at the birth. We are both very looking forward to sharing this experience, especially since I was at the birth of her beautiful daughter Lena as well. When Lena was born I lived in the East of the Netherlands so was relatively close by Maartjes home. Since I moved to the West to live with Jacco it’s a two hour drive now, but since it’s our fist baby Maartje should be able to be there on time.

My pregnancy goes well and I’m still enjoying every second of it. Also, being over 39 weeks pregnant, I do get very curious about the baby. We don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl yet and I am looking forward to discover this when the baby is born. On the evening of November 20th there is no sign of the baby coming soon. Maartje and I are texting and talking about the weather. There is a thick fog in the whole country, daytime as well as at night. If the baby comes tonight, we’re not sure if it’s safe enough to drive my way. But I think I will be overdue anyway, so this shouldn’t be a problem.

When I experience a cramping sensation that night, I think it’s just my intestines. My alarm clock tells me it’s 01.23 AM, and though I ‘m sleepy I’m smiling at the idea of ‘1,2,3 Go!’. I go back to bed but twenty minutes later I get the same cramp and a while after that another. I decide to go downstairs to not wake up Jacco. Because I can’t sleep anymore I put on a DVD of Glee. Normally I love watching Glee but this time I can’t concentrate. I’m on the bench, off the bench, walking around the room feeling restless. Just after 2 AM I realize that this is it! The contractions started! I’m very excited and start to wonder when the baby will be born? Lunchtime? Maybe around coffee time already? I get in the shower to relax and feel very happy and excited. The contractions are strong but I can breath through them without trouble. At 3 AM I wake Jacco: ‘Honey, I think the baby will come today.’ This gets him awake quickly and he jumps out of bed and asks if there’s anything he can do. He decides to time time the contractions, though I think it’s not necessary yet because I have the idea it’s a bit early since I just started having contractions. ‘They’re only one minute apart,’ he tells me, ‘Should we call Maartje?’  I don’t want to disturb her too early, but since it’s such a long drive maybe it’s wise to call her. We tell her I feel nauseous, have some bloody show and that the contractions just started, but that there are only short pauses between them and that I already feel some pressure down my pelvis. A look outside tells us that the thick fog didn’t miraculously disappear. To our great disappointment we have to decide that it’s too dangerous. Though disappointing, it does feel like the best choice to make. Maartje wishes all the best  and ensures us she’ll be sending all the positive energy in the world. When we hang up Jacco suggests we call the midwifery practice, but I want to wait. I don’t know these midwives very well and also I think we don’t need anyone else around yet. We can still manage this together perfectly. I have a feeling everything is going very quick but there’s also some doubt. Either it’s going very fast or it’s much tougher than I expected. To know which one it is I decide to feel  for myself what’s happening in my body. It’s unmistakable: I feel a tense balloon and only a soft lip in front. This is amazing! I am so happy it’s going so prosperous and am now even more confident about the birth (This is around 4 PM). Jacco prepares a bath and puts on the music I listened to so often. It’s great to be in the bath, though the contractions are getting more and more intense. It helps to make noise (something between bawling and singing). Jacco is a bit impressed by this I guess and tells me to stay calm. I actually do feel calm, but making these sounds just feels good. The advice of my yogateacher that it’s important to stay in contact with the baby comes up in my mind. I tell our baby that everything will be fine and that we are doing great together.

The pressure I almost immediately felt when contractions started is suddenly building up fast. It is so strong that it’s hard to still stay calm. I am considering if we’ll call the midwife. What if we could do this together? The next contraction I’m still in doubt but after another very strong one with the urge to push I’m certain that Jacco should make the call. Now!

At once I need more space and climb out off the bath. I try to do a contraction on all fours, because I think it might be comfortable but I don’t know how fast I should get on my feet again. Sitting on the toilet feels most comfortable, as far as the word comfortable is still in order here. I ask Jacco which midwife is on call. ‘I don’t know, but it was a man.’ There’s only one male midwife in the practice, so I know who’s on the way for our baby. Secretly I’m a bit frustrated that it’s precisely his shift tonight, because I think the word midwife isn’t like this for no reason. But I have no choice but to get over this soon. At this point the main thing on my mind is to get this over  with because I really don’t like these strong contractions anymore. A few minutes after our call to midwife Arie my water breaks. The pressure is very strong now so Jacco calls Arie again to hear if he’s still far away, but luckily he arrives soon after this second call. When he finds me still sitting on the toilet he asks me to get on the bed so he can examine me. I curtly answer that I don’t want this, that I know I am fully dilated and ready to push. It takes a while before I have the courage to get out off the bathroom. My plan was to push on the birthing stool, but when I walk over to the bedroom I suddenly find the idea of lying down better. When I get on the bed Arie announces again that he want to check me. I growl that this is really unnecessary, I KNOW I am more than ready to push. In Jacco’s eyes I see sympathy for Arie, it’s as if he’s telling me to just let the man do his work. Luckily there is no further discussion, because with the next contraction my body can’t do anything but push. Now I am at once afraid. I don’t know if I dare to give in, can I really do this? Jacco assures me that I can and I also try to tell myself. Just open up, let go! It takes a few contractions before I have the confidence to listen to my own advice and when I start to give in I feel that the baby’s head is getting deeper soon. When Arie tells me to stop pushing for a while I am really surprised, does this mean the head is almost born? It does! I have to give a good push for the shoulder to come and then suddenly, at 05.45 AM, the baby slides out.

Wow. Did I do it? I did it! The baby is here. I am a mom. A mom!

I love feeling this little warm and wet baby on my breast and spend minutes laughing and crying of happiness. My hands slide down to search for the answer on one of the biggest questions and find it soon: a boy! Our wonderful son. Our beautiful Ben Willem!

Marjolein will join Debra for the en*theos Academy Conference Fall 2014. Easy enews sign up right here so you can be the first to read about Marjolein next birth.