See, labor is greatly mental. And that mental battle is different for everyone...but for me, this birth was 95% mental and 5% physical.
It was about three weeks before my due date when I began to drown in all the fears and anxiety I had shoved down over the course of the last nine months. As they surfaced I was taken by surprised because I didn't really have to deal with those feelings with my other pregnancies. Or, maybe dealing with them just looked a lot different. But if I am completely honest, I was dreading labor. Complete and utter dread. Every time I would remember the births of my other children all I could see was the intensity of it, the pain, how uncomfortable it was...and I was reminded that I had never wanted to experience those things again. Yet--I was about to.
I didn't know how to process it. Rational and irrational thoughts tumbled around and there were moments I would shake from anxiety and feel sick to my stomach.
I told myself I was being silly. I knew I could do it. Other people kept telling me I could do it. I knew I had to do it. I had spent my entire first pregnancy educating myself about birth and I felt confident in my body's ability to do it. I reminded myself of all the positive things about birth and tried to reflect on the positive experiences of my other births and how empowering they were. But somehow all the hard parts about birth was all I could see...and I couldn't shake the thoughts...I couldn't shake the feelings that would tidal wave over me.
I talked to my midwife and she encouraged me to let go of all expectations. She told me that this process I was going through just might be the hardest part of labor for me.
And it was. And I struggled. My mind was weak. I tried to process through each thing as it came at me--but I would lose myself. I was trying to do it alone...and the only thing I was accomplishing was burying things deeper and covering it up.
Its hard to surrender. It's hard to let go of control. Not only to my body as it grew a child, changed, packed on weight, and ached with pain--but to surrender to God as he worked in my heart and continued to shape me...an uncomfortable process just like a pregnancy. But that's exactly what needed to happen. And this was a whole new level in my heart. It's funny how many layers there are to the sin in your heart...I am reminded of that Shrek analogy of an onion and peeling away the layers. Once you feel like your onion has been peeled you realize there is yet another layer and just how deep the layers go.
It's hard to strip away yourself and let go.
Its hard to hold captive your thoughts and choose to focus on God and to keep pressing on even when it's difficult.
It's hard to simply trust...to trust the process of it all.
I was reminded of the cross. And how Jesus suffered for me. How before he faced the cross he begged for there to be another way...he sweated blood with the weight of what was to come. I resonated with that dread as I faced labor. But I knew that because Jesus loves me and died for me I could suffer through pregnancy and labor for the love my child. Pregnancy and birth was a reflection of Christ's love...and what a privilege to get to partake in that.
This wasn't just something I had to do. It was something I got to do.
As I struggled through the false labor episodes and the thoughts that would wave over me, Jesus was there. When thoughts and pains would overwhelm me and when I felt out of control, I looked to Jesus and he graciously covered me with peace and comfort. It was because of him I was able to surrender and let go..and experience Willow's birth the way I that I did...
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Saturday morning I woke up early with contractions that were 10 minutes apart. By the time my husband and kids woke up and breakfast was made and eaten, I decided to call my midwife and tell her I was in labor--Andy started filling the birth tub.
Within an hour after the call my contractions stopped. It was hard not to get caught up in feeling frustrated and annoyed, but my plan all along was to ignore labor until it couldn't be ignored anymore...so I tried to push all thoughts of labor out of my head and go about my day as I normally would.
As I did laundry and things around the house I noticed I was having a couple contractions every hour--they were hard, achy/crampy and all things labor-like...but there was no rhyme or rhythm to them. So I ignored them...and went sledding with my family instead. After pulling on whatever cold-weather clothing I could fit into, I trudged through the snow with my family to a field behind our house. It was very distracting to watch my kids fly down the hill, I barely noticed the contractions I was having.
At this point in my pregnancy I despised cooking and clean-up...so we decided to go to Subway for dinner. On the way to town I noticed my two-an-hour contractions turned into 10-minutes-apart contractions. While waiting in line to order I had three very powerful contractions back to back that I had to stop and breathe through...and both my husband I started to panic a little.
It was probably pretty comical watching us decide if we should leave or stay at the restaurant--we would decide to leave, then decide to stay, then to leave, then to say...in the end, we sat down to eat and hurried through dinner.
Of course, on the way home my contractions had lightened and slowed to very sporadic again.
I crawled into bed at 8:30 that evening, exhausted emotionally and mentally from trying not to play the labor-guessing-game all day and keeping my mind from getting worked up about it. I fell asleep within minutes.
At 9:45pm I was woken up by a very strong contraction and my body was shaking. I took note of the time and it wasn't long before I realized my contractions were 7 minutes apart. This was it. Though, honestly, there was a huge part of me that doubted this would last and thought it would just up and stop at any point. I called my midwife around 10:15 and told her labor had started again, she told me she was ready to leave and to call her when I wanted her to come/when things picked up more.
I didn't wake Andy and just went back to bed. I laid on my left side with my left leg straight and my right leg bent in front of me and propped up--I had read this was a good laying position to help things progress and I wanted to rest as much as I could.
I don't think I slept a wink--but I definitely rested for a little over an hour before I felt the need to move--my contractions had picked up quite a bit and were much closer together and laying was getting uncomfortable. Around 11:30pm I woke Andy up and moved to the bathroom. It felt so good to be at a sitting position on the toilet that I ended up (sorry, TMI moment...) straddling the toilet and laboring there. I asked Andy to call the midwife for me...and while he was on the phone with her I realized just how powerful and close my contractions were--and I told him to tell my midwife that I wanted to get in the tub soon. The midwife told Andy that she wanted me to wait to get in the tub until she got there...I was bummed because things were pretty intense already, but I waited.
Andy sat on a stool behind me and rubbed my back as I labored, timing my contractions, they were 2-3 minutes apart for the hour that it took for my midwife to arrive. It was getting harder to stay relaxed during each contraction and I focused on my breathing. At this point I started wrestling with thoughts of remember what was coming and not wanting to do it. I had to fight letting the pain scare me--the more I focused on it the more it hurt. I knew I just needed to embrace it and focus on staying relaxed despite what I felt.
My midwife arrived at 12:45am...Sunday, February 7th. She listened to the baby's heartbeat and told me I could get in the tub. I asked if she needed to check me and she said no...I didn't argue.
It was around 1am when I slipped into the tub...it was heaven! The familiar warm water swallowed me and soothed my body. I had no idea how progressed I was, I didn't know what time it was or how much longer this was going to take...I was just in my own head focused on what was happening in my body. I remember wishing I had known how progressed I was...but I'm glad I didn't because I think that would have hindered me from relaxing as far as I did--it didn't matter anyway. I didn't have the temptation to think about it so it was easy to just put it past me.
My midwife showed Andy how to put counter pressure on my back during the contractions as they intensified. That was so helpful! It helped alleviate some of the pressure as the baby moved through the birth canal. We labored like that for a little while until the counter-pressure did absolutely nothing to help with sensations anymore. Things felt so intense--but I knew there wasn't anything to take away the pressure and I just needed to remain focused and endure until the end. I asked Andy to come in front of me where I was leaning against the side of the tub--and I grabbed his hands. I needed him to be there, this was it...the hardest part was coming.
I had to keep my mind in check about doubting that I could do it, I had to fight letting myself feel like giving up. I wanted to give in to the intensity of what was happening, my body wanted to scream of its exhaustion, it wanted to feel the pain and get lost in its chaos, it wanted to give up fighting.
As each contraction increased and hit hard I chose to let go of what I felt and focus on God--all I could do was simply think his name as the pain roared in my face threatening to devour me whole...but it was enough. He helped me in my weakness...when I couldn't do it anymore and I was so tired all I could do was think his name, He was there. By His grace I wasn't only able to manage the pain but I was able to relax my body in the midst of it--in a way I can't even describe. In a way I didn't with my other labors. I remember thinking, How am I doing this? It was so intense, everything was on fire and the pressure was overwhelming, yet my bottom relaxed despite it all in a way that was not by my power. In a way that when I felt like I needed to push, and my midwife encouraged me to listen to my body and push if I needed to, I was able to relax instead and breathe as my body pushed for me. I know that sounds bizarre and I can't really explain it, but instead of straining I could relax as a contraction hit and my body just sort of pushed as I breathed through the pressure. I was able to completely surrender and let what was happening to me...just happen.
Suddenly I felt a large twinge/burst that hurt really bad but felt really good at the same time--I remember saying "ow! ow!" I was so deep in focusing that I didn't know what had happened and I barely heard my midwife say, "I see a little face!"
Wait, what? I birthed her head? That's what that was? It took a few moments for it to sink it. My water had broke and then instantly after that her head was completely born in one swift movement. I was so shocked...at this point I thought it would still be awhile to push the baby out, but yet somehow I just birthed her head without hardly trying--physically, at least. Which meant, only one more contraction for the body!
That last contraction barely even hurt as I pushed the last of her out. The relief you feel at the end of labor is indescribable. To feel so much intensity, to work so hard, and then for it to be over in one moment...it's incredible and so empowering. And so worth it. Then to be able to scoop your baby up in your arms, feel their little wriggly body against yours and to stare into a face that you already know but have never seen--it's a magical moment.
Meeting Willow for the first time was almost like experiencing something in slow motion. I pulled her up out of the water and her arms danced gracefully around her, I was completely taken by her sweet pink little face. She captivated me. She was so precious. So perfect.
It took me a few days to process my labor with Willow. The first whole day all I could remember was the intensity of it, how hard it was, and how I never wanted to do it again. But after a couple of days I started to remember all the little details and could see the grace of it all...the gentle flow from start to finish, the ease at at which, by God's grace, I was able to manage it. How gently she came out and how graceful her first moments in this world were. It was by far my easiest labor physically, the effort I had to pour into it physically was easy. But, it was by far my toughest labor mentally, the effort I had to pour into it mentally was a war.
From start to finish, labor was just over four hours long.
I am so thankful for the experience of Willow's birth. All of it. Even the ups and downs of pre-labor-mind-anxiety. I am so thankful to see God's hand at work through it all...as he revealed things to me before and during labor, and how he blessed us with such a beautiful, healthy little girl.
Willow was born Sunday morning, February 7th, at 2:05am. She weighed 7 lbs 10 oz. and was 21 inches long.
It took us three days to name her...but we confidently settled on Willow Ivory...which means "graceful and precious."
