Most of the time birth is normal and all it's beautiful details align to create a perfect concoction of hormones that work in harmony with mom and baby's bodies to get them to each other. All of this happens in time for mom and baby to get used to each phase of labor, to learn each new way to cope and breathe and finally to push. The process asks for a great deal of patience from it's participants. We made it through all of these phases, starting Thursday night. Ken, always near, fed me water, rubbed my back, and kept me smiling. I was riding those contractions like I'd always imagined. It was doable! I wasn't afraid. We stayed at home for a day and a half. One of our midwives, Chelsea, visited us twice over that time period. Everything was normal, our vitals were great, things were moving along swimmingly. I got out of bed Saturday at 5 am and told Kenny we were going to the birth center. My voice was changing, the moans were louder and deeper and I was using them to ride each surge. It was like riding a bull. It was a matter of climbing each wave until it was over; each contraction felt this way.

Our room at the birth center was warm and green, with a big bed and a big tub; candles everywhere, fireplace lit. Our lovely midwives were there, in and out every half hour or so checking our vitals and progress. Things were very normal, I was 8 cm dilated. By the time I got out of the tub, which was a huge relief as the contractions had been coming for more than a day at this point, everything slowed way down. Our midwives took me for a two block walk. It was drizzling, bright, and I felt refreshed by the mild January air. I relaxed while my eyes took in the little snow drops blooming and the old roses from past summer, crooked but alive. Melissa picked three camellias and put them in a vase in our room. I was crampy the whole way but never felt a big surge. What a change from the last hours! When we got back to our cozy birth center room, Kenny seemed a little rested and after a long warm shower, we decided it was time to break my water. This took quite some time, even the amniotic sac didn't want to budge. It was getting darker out and now that my water was broken, things were going to get much stronger; they did. The room seemed to glow even more. I lit the candle Korbin made us for Christmas and looked at Kenny and saw his strength and knew we'd meet our baby soon. It couldn't be much longer. I sat on the toilet backwards and felt those surges that must come right before a push, the kind that make you moan in an even deeper way, from the back of your throat. I walked back to the bed, to rest on a yoga ball while on all fours, then to the birthing stool. I didn't want labor to slow down again. At this point all of our midwives were in the room observing, my old man behind, holding me, pressing on my lower back, feeding me smoothie and gentle assurances. I started pushing. Our baby's head was positioned just so that every time I'd push her heart would slow. So, I wore an oxygen mask and repositioned myself, standing legs apart. It wasn't long before our kind and thorough three midwives sat us down and gave us options. This birth was taking an unusually long time. We could stay at the birth center and wait it out or go to the hospital, try to sleep and rest my body and baby. Kenny and I both opted for the hospital at this point as it wasn't an emergency yet and we both needed rest. 

I think it was Sunday. Yes, nearly Sunday. We drove ourselves and our amazing team followed. We walked through the emergency room, rode the elevator, and landed in our new birth room. It felt like a beautiful ceremony. We were finally at the place where we'd meet our little person. It was a relief to be there. I had birthed naturally for two days already and was okay, though hesitant to take this birth to where ever it needed to go to keep us healthy and safe. Already this labor was not your normal, everyday kind. It was okay, I had Kenny and my girls and a really wise team of hospital midwives and nurses by my side. It was time to surrender. 

Epidural, pitocin, something to stop pitocin, IV fluids, antibiotics, catheter, I got it all. I got it all in good time. I slept a while. I felt so good and relaxed. One of our nurse midwives said I should try pushing if I felt the urge. So, I pushed in all sorts of ways, from deep within. The baby's heart was not happy. It kept taking big dives down to frightening levels. Everyone watched the monitors, I pushed, I felt Kenny so close to me, in my head. He'd say things that kept me strong. My Alma midwives, the original team, rubbed my legs and kept me calm.  I drank so many apple juices. 

Eventually they said I needed to get to the emergency room and needed to get on all fours to keep our baby's heart steady. So I did. I was a vulnerable, tangled octopus, pretty scared. My big fear was coming true. For years and years I'd always imagined my birth to be pretty perfect. I knew how it could be done. Turns out, your body has it's own plans. The lights were bright and I thought that whatever needed to happen was going to and at least we'd get her out. Kenny wore blue scrubs and a puffy blue hat, cute. Then it was really fast. The doctor said a forceps delivery was quick and that he had been born this way. Just do it and I will be forever thankful. To my left, my green eyed husband reminded me to go to the ocean. My hospital, midwives were the only midwives allowed in the emergency room. I remember this one, wonderful woman, Karen, had my face next to hers the whole time, squeezed them together and spoke to me so I could hear above all the doctors talking, maybe so I could hear none of the scary stuff happening. I had to push with all my might while they pulled but, unbeknownst to me baby wasn't stuck at the pubic bone but deeper in my uterus. Later, our doctors said my uterus probably constricted and kept baby inside. It kept the placenta this way, too, but they could take their time with the placenta. 

This is a very rare and undetectable occurrence, the constriction ring or Bandl's ring.  Finally, with lots of pushing, pulling, and grabbing they got our sweet one out and brought her to life. Kenny followed them to the other room; got to see her little fingers and squishy nose right away. He brought a picture of her to me. And finally he brought her, wrapped up and swollen faced. This all happened very fast. She was in my arms for the ride to the regular hospital room where our loving team of midwives waited for us. Both Kenny and I noticed a camellia, from the birth center, laid across the table. 

We cried for many days following. We cried for what could have happened, what sometimes happens when these constriction rings occur. We cried for love and thankfulness, for the fleeting and mysterious breath of life.

Camellia Bea Houston-Anderson

3:01pm

January 28, 2013

7lbs 1.9oz

20 inches