How to Help a Laboring Woman--Suggestions from You

Here's a list I compiled using the e-mails and comments I received in response to the question: What Did You Find Helpful in Labor?

Ladies, thank you for your insight!

• Ask your husband's perspective as a coach


• Use prayer and Scripture to help with relaxation (Mom is a professing Christian)


• Distraction from contractions (early-labor)


• Don't leave Mom alone during active labor (either be there or free hubby to be there for her AT ALL TIMES)


• Suggest position changes (birth ball, standing, toilet, glider rocker, hands-and-knees, bathtub, etc.)


• lip balm, mints, extra pillows, tennis balls in a sock, snacks/quick energy for Mom and helpers


• Hot/cold packs (rice sock and chilled washcloths)


• Water--either tub or shower
• Music & aromatherapy


• Massage/counter pressure (and don't stop unless she tells you to)
  
• Remind her to take one contraction at a time


• Counteract getting too much in her head about the intensity of the contractions. ("That one was hard. Really hard. They're getting harder. The next one is going to be even harder. I don't want to do the next one. I can't do this anymore.")


• Counteract "labor math." ("It took me 20 hours to get to 6 cm. It will take another 10 hours at least to fully dilate."


• Read two of the books suggested in this post


• Encouragement that the pain is normal. Affirmation that it is hard work.


• Pushing--help her push effectively and tell her when she is pushing effectively, and that it is making progress


• Refreshing beverage after birth! (And keep her nourishment needs met during labor)

The great thing about these suggestions was that many of them had a reason behind them--a mini story the women told me that brought home the importance of what they suggested.

Books

While I wait to ask my postpartum friend to give me the okay on a post regarding the birth of her week-old baby, I am going to give a list of things you all sent me that were very helpful.

For whatever reason, most people responded to my request for input via e-mail, which is totally fine. But I was thinking that, since there were quite a few great suggestions, it would be good to post them on my Blog for anyone who is interested in being a birth helper or preparing for her own birth.

First of all, here's a list of books I checked out at the library last month to brush up and re-educate myself about the birth process and things a laboring woman may encounter:

• The Birth Book: Everything You Need to Know to Have a Safe and Satisfying Birth, by Martha and William Sears

I Love this book. If I were to recommend a book to someone who had time to read one and only one (usually first-timers who don't realize just how important it is to make preparation for labor a priority--I know. I was one of these first timers!), this would be the book. I own this book, but was letting my prego friend borrow it, so I picked up a copy at the library for my own reference.

• Natural Childbirth the Bradley Way, by Susan McCutcheon-Rosegg

Ditto the above about owning/lending. This is the second book I would recommend if a woman wanted to work toward a natural birth. ("Natural" in this book means no medication and judicious use of medical intervention).

• The Birth Partner: Everything You Need to Know to Help a Woman Through Childbirth, by Penny Simkin

This was one of the books recommended by both doulas who weighed in. I was not able to find the other one: Mothering the Mother (or The Doula Book) by Klaus, Kennell and Klaus.

I did find this book helpful, though it is definitely from a different perspective than the one I've come to respect most. It seems to be more Lamazish than I care for. Lots of talk about breathing patterns. My opinion is that deep, abdominal breathing is the best breathing for all parts of labor. It facilitates relaxation, since it requires relaxation of the abdominal muscles, and it prevents hyperventilation and assures plenty of oxygen gets to the baby and to the uterus, preventing rapid muscle fatigue.

Aside from the numerous references to breathing patterns, I found it a helpful enough book that I may purchase it in the future. But since I did not read it in its entirety, I do not yet have a good overview of it.

• The Expectant Parent's Guide to Preventing a Cesarean Section, by Carl Jones

This may seem an odd book choice to the casual birther, but the fact is that in the U.S., with a cesarean rate of 31.8%, most cesareans are avoidable (Notice I didn't say "unnecessary." This is because by the time they are done, they have often become necessary, but usually the necessary c-section was caused by medical intervention or a lack of other options that could have been tried hours, days or months before.)

Since my friend had chosen an OB as her provider, and since her particular OB was not on call 24/7 for her, and since the only thing I knew about this OB was that she was "nice," I wanted to be prepared for whatever may ensue once we entered the hospital. Of course, the most obvious tactic was to wait as long as possible to go to the hospital. Check.

Even though this book is old (1991), it was very helpful and by far the book I spent the most time perusing. (I did not read any of these books in their entirety last month.) It is set up well, giving an overview of indications for cesarean, then ways to prevent those indications. And though it is old, much of what was being done in 1991 is still being done today--only more (25% cesarean rate back then). I would recommend this book to any pregnant woman with time on her hands (Ha!) and any woman who has had a previous c-section and expects to have more children, and most of all, to any woman who is or aspires to be a labor helper. (I just noticed that this book is apparently not widely available, but if one can get her hands on it, it would be worth the read.)

Okay, I think I'll stop with the book list and pick up again with the list of suggestions next post.

Guess What I Did Today

Just got back from the first labor I've attended since my own births and I am pumped!

Mom did stupendously and made it through a 25 hour labor (start-to-finish) with no medication whatsoever. She made it look easy. As labor progressed, she got better and better at handling the contractions. I was impressed.

Baby came out at 10:52 p.m. on Sunday (with the cord around his neck--no biggie) weighing 7 lb, 15 oz and 21 inches in length (13" head).

Mom and baby are doing great and getting established with breastfeeding.

The overarching impression I have from this experience (besides respect for this woman in several ways) is that education, preparation and support can make all the difference in whether a woman can "do" natural childbirth. Oh, and a steeled resolve to NEVER AGAIN have a baby in the hospital. It was good to be reminded why I went home to birth.

Thank you, all of you who gave me input and advice on labor helps. I don't know how I did with it all, (you'd have to ask her) but I know your suggestions helped me a great deal.

Thanks for the Input

Thank you to all of you who sent me ideas on how to be a good help to my friend in labor (see my previous post). I especially appreciated the specific suggestions and general encouragement.

There were a few books recommended that I read in preparation for this, which I thought I should mention here, since they were not posted in the comments. Thanks to the two doulas who sent me these suggestions: The Doula Book and The Birth Partner. I look forward to checking them out at the library and possibly purchasing them for future reference!

I am still open to advice, so feel free to weigh in if you have just come across my request. I need all the help I can get!

Input Wanted

Over the past few months, I've been interested to see if becoming a doula is for me. Recently, an opportunity presented itself to try my hand at being a labor helper for a woman due next month. As I do not have any formal training in such things, there are many things I do not know. I want to give this woman as much support and help as I can during the hardest work she will probably ever do in her life.

This is where you come in: Do you, readers who have had babies, remember the things that made your labor harder that would have not been so if someone had just __________? Were there things someone did or did not do that you found helpful or think you would have found helpful? Is there anything that burns in your memory that I may be able to use or keep in mind? I'm really looking for specifics here, so please explain what you mean.

Any readers who have not had babies are also welcome to weigh in if you have good insight or experience on the subject. I really am looking for any good ideas to be a better help to her. Fire away!

Haley Kay's Birth Story, Part 5 (and FINAL!!)

The midwives tried to get situated between my contractions, pausing and not asking anything of me or Casey during contractions. Aimee sat on the floor next to me, waiting for a moment between contractions to check the baby’s heartbeat with the Doppler, while Barb (kneeling, using the bed as her desk) observed my behavior and took notes. I was in transition during the videos here, as well as the video on the last post. For about 30 minutes or so, the contractions were so overpowering and strong. The best way I can describe what it was like is that it felt like a very dark and heavy cloud of seriousness would descend on me as a contraction began. I would remain in that dark cloud for a minute or so, all other thoughts overshadowed by the intense sensations I was feeling. Then, as the contraction began to subside, it was if the cloud lifted and I was “me” again. I could talk, smile, whatever. {I point this out because women labor differently and I had heard that if a woman smiles, she’s not very far along in labor. This is just my way of saying: when you hear things like this, consider who you are and what you are like. That plays a great part in what your labor will look like. Though in general the emotional signposts are more accurate at gauging labor progress than something like how far apart contractions are or how dilated the cervix is, emotional signposts are not always very accurate, either; especially if you adjust quickly to change, are self-conscious or have a tendency to downplay what you are feeling.}

Casey left my side for a moment as Aimee started to check the baby’s heart rate. A severe contraction began and I suddenly needed Casey with me. I told him so and he came to me, knelt beside/behind me and supported me as I relaxed. Aimee stopped looking for baby’s heart, backed off and she and Barb sat in respectful silence as Casey held me through this forceful contraction. As it subsided, he prayed, whispering in my ear as we sat there together, alone in this moment of intensity. I don’t remember what he said, just that it was wonderful to have all those components together: my midwives present and watchful, everything in order, labor progressing beautifully (as obvious by the strength of the contractions), my husband very near and literally supportive to me and the mental corralling of my thoughts as he acknowledged God’s hand on this birth and this baby, asking His blessing on both. I was overwhelmed from the awe of birthing with all of these important pieces together. Words cannot describe my state of elation while smack-dab in the very “worst” of labor! It was wonderful.

I felt great (in comparison) between contractions and though they were the most intense ones in the labor, they were still doable because there were breaks. Casey gave me the third and final dose of herbs and vitamins, and I downed the Emergen-C much too quickly. Even though it was less than 4 ounces of liquid, I should have known better than to down it that fast at this stage of labor. (I find it funny that even when I’ve learned something by experience, it doesn’t mean I “know” it so well that I remember it at the time it would serve me well to remember it. I downed liquid too fast in Ruby’s labor and paid for it, and if you asked me a few big things I learned to do or not to do from that labor, the wisdom of sipping—not drinking—water that late in labor would have surely made the list. This is precisely why I believe one cannot be too educated or prepared for any labor—even the third! There will always be things that one reads—or in this case, knows by experience—that will escape one’s mind when in the heat of labor.)

Soon after this, we got on the subject of the woman (Dolly) who was in labor with me when I had Claire, who was due in a couple weeks. She lives south of us, and as soon as I had learned she was also expecting again, I began joking that we’d need to arrange a day to have our babies back-to-back so Barb only had to take one trip south. Within less than 30 minutes of Barb’s arrival to our home, Dolly and another woman called to say they were in labor! Apparently, today was the day, and we got the memo first. I didn’t feel guilty. We don’t ask much of Barb on labor day; just basically to get there in time to catch the baby. So these two women could hold off, I thought. (Really, though. It wasn’t like they were about to deliver or anything. We had time, and Barb wasn’t rushing.)


We got through a few more contractions as I knelt by the bed, assuring Barb that my knees weren’t sore yet and it felt best to be there. Sandy had brought the girls upstairs and put them down for their naps just as the midwives arrived, and Claire wasn’t too happy about it, as is noticeable in the background noise of the video. It was beginning to take longer to come out of the haze and recover from a contraction, and I became more vocal; “sounding” through them again. We were back on track after all the hoopla of the midwives arrival.
Between a couple transition contractions, I began to feel more nauseated, and Casey fetched a trash can. No sooner than he gave it to me, I threw up a few times. This was not so bad. I felt fine after it was over. The only bad thing I remember about it was thinking now my breath was going to stink. I knew it would affect my relaxation (same reason I took a shower earlier). I am very self-conscious, and things like this and modesty don’t necessarily go away totally (I have to make a conscious decision to not think or worry about these things—even at the very end) like they say they will at some point in labor (again, it depends on who you are). A little while later, I mentioned my concern, and Barb gave me a little mint so I could breathe through my mouth if I needed to.

I asked Barb to check me to see if things really had progressed as I thought. She checked me between contractions and said I was complete. As much as my tailbone had protested, I eventually made it onto the bed in the “frog-in-the-lounge-chair” position we’d used in Claire’s labor, (legs bent slightly, widely splayed and resting on Casey’s legs) Casey behind me, supporting me, whispering words of encouragement to me, stroking my arms. Strangely enough, this was not excruciating like lying down had been. But even so, I was not ready to push. I believe the broken tailbone had more mental ramifications than physical at this point, and though I wasn’t consciously thinking “I don’t want to hurt my tailbone more,” I must have had it in the back of my mind, because I was not ready to engage in the labor the way I needed to, now that I was nearing the end.

I kept my eyes closed more and though I still talked now and then between contractions, I stayed serious and relaxed, and it was obvious when one was starting to get going, because I would suddenly start breathing very deeply and “Oooh!” ing or “Uuh!”ing as I exhaled. It was easy with these sounds to get a little too high-pitched as time went on and Barb would remind me to “keep it low” so my voice would help my body push down instead of tensing up. I kept asking the ladies if it was okay that I didn’t want to push yet. We made it through a dozen or more contractions with me just breathing through them, letting my body do what it needed to do. Aimee encouraged me that she could tell my contractions alone were pushing strongly: I was staying “open” between contractions. The baby was on its way whether I pushed or not! Somewhere in here, I was in the middle of one of these strong contractions when I heard the musical chime of our dryer downstairs and thought, "Laundry's done." I mentally shook myself and lassoed my thoughts back to the task at hand. My mind was no longer interested in what my body was doing. I bring this up, because this is how I am in everyday life: extremely sidetracked. Some people talk of being totally into the task of labor at the exclusion of everything else, and I have yet to labor that way. I really have to work to stay focused.

Suddenly, my body took over and started to push on its own. I grunted and that was the end of ladylike behavior. (Oh, wait; who am I kidding?) I have never been great at the whole “chin to chest” pushing thing. It just doesn’t feel right to me; especially in this case. My position wasn’t optimum for several reasons: I was slouched down a little too much (probably because of my tailbone) and didn’t feel like I could breathe well without throwing my head back. I still had a dry/scratchy throat from the cold I’d had a month before. My voice would catch, and when I pushed, my grunting sounded like machine gun bursts and I found it super annoying that I couldn’t just grunt one long, smooth grunt. We also had several pillows between Casey and I, and he couldn’t see much over the pillows (nor can I see much of his face in the video), which bothers me still (especially for the actual birth). I would have gladly resituated, even between those contractions, if I had known at the time.

The contractions were extremely forceful and this is where the music and the moment collided. There was a particularly intense piece of classical music playing at the height of one of these contractions (the video clip at the beginning of this post gives a little idea of what I’m talking about, only it was more annoying than that, if you can imagine). High-pitched violin screeching was not helpful in that particular set of seconds and I think I could have jumped out of bed and flown to the television and smashed it through the wall if I didn’t think my pelvis just might not come with me. Immediately after the peak, I said I couldn’t really handle the music and asked them to turn it down. At the time, I didn’t think it was funny, but now I do: Barb was the one who got up to turn off the music, only Barb was the only person in the room who is, shall we say, the least technically savvy, so it took her FOR-E-VER to figure out what button to push, and it seemed like an eternity before the horrid sounds were gone. I really was about to volunteer to do it myself by the time she figured out how to make it stop.

Anyway, there I was, pushing. I would lay completely relaxed with my head turned to the side (I could breathe better that way, believe it or not) until a contraction started, align my head with my body, grunt and bear down with all I had in me. Aimee was at the foot of the bed, Barb to the left of me observing/taking notes. The amniotic sac broke during a crazy contraction and the burst of liquid traveled a few feet, but missed Aimee (who was waiting for such an occurrence). There was an extremely short break, (perhaps a few seconds) and I smiled, but that immediately changed, because I then said, “Oooh, goodness. This is very intense!”

Contractions had changed since the sac had broken, and I began to feel as if my baby would explode out of me. “Oh, WOW! I think I need somebody right there,” I told them. I felt too vulnerable and that the baby would burst out and hit the wall ten feet away if someone wasn’t there to stop it. Aimee came to stretch the perineum and Barb said something encouraging. Aimee sat at the foot of the bed, and that’s what I really needed. If she believed I would explode, she would not have sat a foot away from me. It was comforting to know it just felt like I would explode, it wasn’t reality. However, Aimee is an apprentice. I felt saf-er, but not exactly the saf-est. I asked Barb to come to my side. I needed to know that I wasn’t a grenade, and I needed Barb to be near me to assure me that she wasn’t afraid of me, either.

Barb sat on the side of the bed and touched my arm, and Aimee warmed and rubbed my cold feet between contractions. I was having a difficult time relaxing between contractions, and would have to consciously tell myself to relax my facial muscles. Even Barb reminded me at times, by silently placing a finger on my furrowed brow. I asked if it was getting hot in here, and Barb motioned to Case to grab the washcloth. It was heavenly and refreshing on my forehead. They spoke quietly and encouragingly. Barb took the washcloth and spun it around in the air to cool it off, then laid it on my chest and brushed it across my neck. That felt amazing.

I was having a hard time relaxing my legs. Aimee rolled up two towels and put them under each knee, and it really helped. I thanked Barb and Aimee for some encouragement they’d given, and they cranked it up a notch when they realized it was just what I needed, verbalizing what was happening and reminding me to “keep it low.” Casey took the cue and said some more encouragy, coachy things, too. “Good job. Down low.”

Haley’s head was crowning and though it only took a little over two minutes, it seemed like the longest head on earth. I kept thinking, “Is that seriously still the head?” Anyway, right before the “ring of fire” (which Casey says really “doesn’t sound too bad”—HA!), Aimee and Barb were distracted with something for the delivery and I exclaimed, “Ow. OW.”“Help me, help me, help me, help me. PLEASE HELP ME!” as Barb said calmly, “Laaaaauts a pressure.”

I squealed, “OOOOWWW!” and immediately knew that wasn’t helping, so I pushed it down a few octaves and grunted: “Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Lrd. Pls!” (It really sounds like I cut out the vowels in the video.) Barb was coaching Aimee in supporting my perineum, all the while calmly coaching my out-of-controlness.

We had a little exchange that went like this:
Me:“Okay, Okay. Ooo-Kay. That really, really, REALLY hurts! (high-pitched, and then back low again): Really hurts. Really. Huuuurts. Oooooooohhhhhhh. . . ”
Barb:“Good. Good. Grunt through it. Grunt through it. There you go. Push your baby down, push, push, push. . .”
Me (in my lowest, gruntiest, robotic voice): “I’m afraid to push!”
Barb: “Goooow ahead.”
Me (sounding very much like Grover): “MMMM!”
Barb: “Little pushes.”
Me: “MMMMM!”
Barb: “Down here.”
Me (higher and higher pitched): “MMMM! MMMM! MMMMM!”
Barb: “Keep it coming. Good job. There you go. Nice work. Push your baby’s head out. Gentle, gentle, beautiful, beautiful.”

There was a lot of “Ow” and “That kills!” as they worked a nuchal cord (meaning wrapped once around the neck) over her head. (Not a comfortable procedure, I won’t lie.)

All at once, Haley’s head and body were born. I had turned my head to the side, (I think I was trying to get away from what was going on) and happened to look back over and was a little stunned to see her all the way out, because, after all, her head was still crowning a second ago. After realizing she was born, I reached down and Aimee and Barb lifted her to me. I immediately brought her to my chest, and Casey and I gasped and he cried, “Oh, the baby!” which made me cry, all before she did! It was 4:24 p.m.; 12 hours since that first very strong contraction. Haley “mewed” a few times, which just tickled us to death. The midwives put a towel over us and after a few seconds, we checked and she was a girl! Her heart rate was a little slow, so they gave me the oxygen mask to hold near her for a few minutes until she pinked up and was not so quiet. We named her Haley Kay immediately and I could not believe how much vernix was on her! She was totally coated in it. White all over. Chunks, even. I’ve never seen that much vernix on a premature baby! Barb suspected she may have breathed some in and that was why her respiration had dropped off a little. We discussed our guesses of her weight. She looked so tiny to me. Claire had had such a fat face and looked like she weighed 11 pounds, but Haley’s face was slim, and she didn’t have the chunky upper body that Claire did, so I was sure she couldn’t be even 8 pounds. Turns out she was 8 lbs, 2 ½ oz and 20 ¾ inches long.

(This was after a good hour or more, with most of the vernix rubbed in/worn off.)
We called out that we had a baby, and after awhile, Sandy came upstairs to ask what the baby was. I nursed Haley and she latched on strongly and just went to town. After the cord stopped pulsing, it was cut. I don’t think the afterbirth contractions were nearly as bad as they were with Claire. They were strong, but not excruciating. I got off the bed and knelt over the chux that Case had thrown a couple hours earlier to try to have gravity help deliver the placenta, and it eventually came out. Barb was pretty tenacious about checking my bleeding and keeping tabs on me. I hopped in the shower, and I swear I could not get some of that vernix off of my belly, where Haley lay for those first few minutes. It was like car wax! Every minute or so, Barb would pop in to see how I was and give me a sip of my Recharge to keep me from passing out. I think it concerned her that I was standing up, since I have had trouble with low blood sugar after delivery. I felt so great. After I was clean, I wrapped my baby girl and me in my robe and reclined on the bed as Sandy brought Ruby and Claire to join us for Haley’s newborn check. They were so excited to see and hold their little sister. I kept hydrated and took a little of the herbal injury/trauma tincture I had by the bed. A friend of mine came to see us. We got lots of pictures and our little growing family hung out on the bed, looking at our little girl.

Haley and Auntie Chrissy

It was dinner time, and I was about to go downstairs and join the family like it was any other day (I really felt that good). Casey wouldn’t hear of it, and brought the beef stroganoff to me in bed. I was ravenous! Haley was so sweet and just looked around, mewing now and then. It was so precious. Barb and Aimee had to jet to the next birth (which happened to be Dolly. . . . on the same day! What are the odds?) and then the next, and, as it happened, the next! As Barb had said hours before, apparently, we started a trend. They were a couple of busy midwives catching 4 babies in three days, with no break in between. Boy, that’s a tough job. Glad I got them fresh this time!

Haley had alert eyes and was very quiet and serious. She made very small noises and just looked back at us as we stared at her. She had a stork bite birth mark on her left eyelid, which was pretty dark for the first couple days, and comes out again when she is really upset. For the first few nights, she slept in the bassinet by our bed and probably spent half the night in bed with us and would just barely make a peep and I would feed her. She was so sweet and contented; we thoroughly enjoyed our babymoon!

Recovery for me was great. I felt like I could do anything within a few minutes after giving birth, but Casey knows that does not speed recovery, so he had me in bed alot, and when I came downstairs over the next few days, he'd have me rest and sit and observe mostly. I had torn just slightly (like the knicks I had in Claire's labor, about 1/4 of an inch) and that was uncomfortable, but it had completely healed by the home visit Barb made at 5 days, so it was no big deal. Sandy and Case were there for several days and took care of all the household chores and cared for the older girls. I am so blessed to have such a helpful mom and mother-in-law! I have never had to deal with the mom who sits on the couch and holds the baby all day while I stand in the kitchen washing dishes or doing laundry. My relatives come to help, and I'm thankful! People from our church and the mom's group I went to brought us meals for the first few weeks. We hadn't had that with our other babies; it was nice for Sandy and Casey to not have to worry about one more thing. I was especially touched by the fact that one of the moms who had cancer signed up to bring me a meal. That she would think of serving others while in such a state (it was very bad, she passed away at the end of the summer) just blew me away. Though I only knew her for a few short months, she has left an indelible mark in my life. I think of her selflessness all the time (especially when I'm struggling, and it's nothing compared to what she went through).

In comparison, I would put Haley’s birth in between my other two girl’s births as far as doability. Not that any of them weren’t doable, but Ruby’s birth (my first) was an extremely difficult experience (not so much the labor, but the whole of the experience), and Claire’s was like a walk in the park. Haley’s wasn’t terrible (I’d say it was pretty great), but the actual delivery with the broken tailbone was no picnic. All in all though, the really extremely intense part only lasted a couple hours, and like I like to say about labor, you can do anything for a day, right?

A few random pics from the first week of Haley's life (in no particular order):

Haley's Birth Story, Part 4

Casey called Barb, who then asked to speak with me. I grabbed the phone. “Barb, Casey says they remind him of when we called you with Claire’s labor.” She asked me if I had checked myself lately. {Barb had encouraged me to check myself those last few weeks to see what was happening. Neither one of us wanted an “official” check. We really didn’t expect much to be happening, and Barb’s pretty hands-off about vaginal exams—even IN labor. (She’s experienced enough to know, based on a woman’s behavior, where her cervical progress may be.) So she asked me now and then what I had discovered. The whole thing was very new to me, and she thought it would be good for me to feel what exactly was going on down there. The few times I checked myself, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, and I ended up asking Aimee and then her to check me once “while they were there” swabbing for GBS at 37 weeks. Turns out my cervix was still so posterior at the time that it really didn’t matter how effaced or dilated it was. If any really serious change was happening, my cervix would not be so posterior.}

I told Barb I hadn’t checked myself at all today, and she suggested I do so right then and she’d call back in a few minutes. So I hung up, put the phone in my robe’s pocket, and quickly explained to Casey and Sandy. We have a bathroom downstairs, but I felt better about being upstairs to check. I think I might have been a little afraid of what I might find; being mentally impaired enough to not make it upstairs if I did find that her head was crowning or some such craziness. As I was just about to climb the stairs, another contraction started (2:11 p.m.). I started the stopwatch and pretty much ran up the stairs. I didn’t want to get stuck on the stairs, so I hurried to get to the bathroom, where I could rest, before the peak. Barb was going to call any minute, and I didn’t want to tell her, “Sorry, I haven’t even made it to the bathroom yet.” Looking back, I’m pretty sure that would have answered her question quite well! She would have known it was time to come even if I didn’t have a report for her. Ah, the silliness of labor-brain.

Waddling to the bathroom, I could hardly stand it anymore. I was not going to regain a relaxed state in this contraction; survival was all I was going for at this moment. I sat on the toilet and the contraction’s intensity was SO VERY OVERPOWERING that I had to lean waaaay back and figuratively hold on for dear life. I made a note on my contraction chart: Must lean back. (I picture Captain Chameleon in The Tick Versus the Idea Men: “CAN’T! DO! PLAID!”) The contraction lasted 2 minutes and 45 seconds and at least 2 minutes were experienced on the toilet—not a good position at this stage of labor, in my experience. When it was over, I hurried to check myself. Barb was surely going to call while I was checking! In what seemed like the same moment, I jumped up, washed my hands and the phone rang. I answered, shaky and nervous. “Barb, I don’t feel a cervix, but I think I feel the bag of water bulging.” (And yes, for any smart alecks, it WAS Barb on the phone!) I had felt what I would describe as a thin rubber band around a very pillowy huge squashy round thing. It freaked me out. I told Barb I wasn’t sure it was the BOW, but I couldn’t feel anything else, save the rubber band, and I thought it was probably the BOW. “I’m sorry if doesn’t turn out to be, but that’s what it feels like.”

Barb very calmly said if that’s what it feels like, then that’s probably what it is and they’d leave right away. I immediately ran downstairs and into the kitchen to tell Casey and his mom this was it. Casey told me “You need to be upstairs.” I told them since I had gotten a little scared and pitted out, I wanted to take a shower first. We hurried upstairs while Sandy stayed downstairs with the girls. It was 2:26 p.m. Casey got some video while I waited for the water to warm up in the shower. I had another contraction—one that I waited just till after the peak before resuming activity. I wasn’t where I wanted to be, and didn’t want to stop for long. I was sure that when I did stop, it would be for good. I mentioned in the video that I’d need to lie down soon. I had one more contraction while in the shower (2:34 p.m.). When I was finished, I began squeegeeing the shower until Casey reminded me that I was in labor and could leave it this time. One would guess from that detail that I am extremely anal! I'm really not that anal, I just constantly have to work at staying on task. Even when it comes to labor, I am so easily sidetracked!

Out of the shower, I quickly dried off, put on my contacts, some lip balm and my labor nighty. Casey stripped our bed and re-made it with a shower curtain and old sheets while I crawled around on the bathroom floor for the next two contractions (2:38 and 2:41 p.m.). I still had to move around, but couldn’t (or didn’t want to) stand anymore. I think it may have been because I didn’t know how long it would take Barb and Aimee to arrive (remember I still thought they were a good 45-60 minutes away) and didn’t know if we had that much time. I remember being taught and reading about “hands and knees” to slow things down, but I think there were additional reasons I did it: I was afraid my posterior-last-appointment-baby hadn’t yet turned and it felt best to be both moving and avoiding the effects of gravity while waiting for the midwives. (I did not feel comfortable delivering this baby without Barb.)

Casey finished the bed and gave me the go-ahead. He helped me get onto the bed and on my side, where I promptly had a doozie contraction (around 2:50 p.m.) and realized I could NOT lie down. Contractions became sharp and excruciating when I did, so Casey piled a huge amount of pillows on our bed and I got back on hands and knees, leaning over the mountain of pillows. After a few minutes, I felt a little too vulnerable up there on the bed. What if, in all my concentrating and hip-swaying, I fell off? So Casey threw a chux on the floor and I moved to kneeling at the bed, swaying my bottom from side to side. (In my mind, I was fiercely waiving it like a mad woman—possibly trying to get away from it—but it was not so accentuated in real life.) We hadn’t ever gotten to burning a C.D. of labor music selections (I kept getting paralyzed in choosing selections by wondering, “Am I going to find this song/music super annoying in labor?”), so we turned the T.V. onto a classical music channel, complete with picturesque and peaceful photography.

I had another contraction (2:55 p.m.—1 min. 15 sec.) as Casey videotaped for another minute, teasing me for continuing to time contractions. I smiled and said it was “something to do” while waiting for Barb and Aimee. It helped me stay focused on one contraction at a time. I had to keep my mind occupied so I wouldn’t freak out thinking too far ahead. I mentioned in the video that between even these contractions, I still felt “really great.” {I find it very refreshing that in three births now, rarely have I had a great deal of contractions so close together that I have absolutely no break in between (though I have to admit, my “false” labor with Claire was often painful no matter if I was having a contraction or not). These people who talk as if labor is one long, excruciating, 36-hour contraction must gloss over God’s mercy in this area. (Could it be they don’t notice the breaks or they even keep themselves from having breaks because they’re too tense and afraid?) I’m not saying labor is easy or pain-free. I guess I’d say it’s both LESS terrible and horrifying than you’ve heard and MORE work than you’ve ever thought possible—work to stay calm, work to relax muscles, work to keep focused, work to be attentive to your body, work to push your baby out . . . HARD WORK!}

Barb and Aimee arrived at 2:58 p.m. and I hung up my contraction-timing hat (as I did when Barb arrived at Claire’s labor) and began to take a more vulnerable role as a laboring woman. They would now take over as the “protectors” of labor—all I needed to do was concentrate on the task at hand. I find this transfer of responsibility very important for relaxation of mind and body at the end. I don’t know how women can purposely do unassisted birth. I need to focus entirely on the work of giving birth, and I have absolutely no room in my mind for also making sure that everything is okay. I happily give this to the birth attendant, and Barb’s knowledge, experience and peaceful manner are just what I need to get my job done.

For Part 5 (The Concusion!), click here