Birth Story: Part Two

(Written by the husband)

Abby hugged me. “We’re gonna have a baby” she said to me tearfully. It was about 2pm, and the contractions were coming every 2 or 3 minutes, and they were lasting about 45-50 seconds each. Abby labored through the contractions for a few hours, while I recording their frequency and duration on a pad of paper before calling the midwife, who suggested that we continue laboring at home for a while longer. We attempted to follow her orders, but emotions were running high and contractions coming fast and frequently. Abby had also begun to throw up, which worried me. I loaded up the car, covered the passenger seat in garbage bags, and we headed to the Birth Center at around 5pm.

The Birth Center is a very comforting place, and it felt good to be there. We were in a nice private room, with a queen bed, a birthing ball, unfinished wooden furniture, and nice dim lighting. The midwife examined Abby and said she was only dilated to 2 cm. She also discovered that the baby’s head was in a posterior position (the back of the baby’s head was pressing into Abby’s spine). This was important news, as it explained the painful back labor that Abby was going through. Ultimately, only being dilated to 2 cm., we knew the midwife had been right to suggest we stay home, so we headed back home to continue laboring. While driving, we called our doula to ask if she would come over and help.

It’s such a feeling of helplessness watching your loved one in so much discomfort, and being unable to carry any of the burden. At times my short back massages were of some value, but I often found myself pacing endlessly, while she did the same (Abby found it nearly impossible to sit or lay down due to so much lower back pain). With the doula now there, helping to guide her through her contractions, I was able to step away for a few minutes and fix myself a meal. Meanwhile Abby transferred from the bathtub, to the bedroom, to the chin up bar (hanging from her arms) seeking a place of comfort.

Eventually she landed in a rocking chair, and I sat in the chair next to her with a guitar in hand. I improvised soft melodies that swam between hope and melancholy. Music I’d never heard before. As time went on and on, my fingers eventually found their way to a lullaby I’d played Abby to sleep with many years ago, before I’d ever told her that I loved her. She smiled at me briefly. It was the first I’d seen in a while.

It was 10 o’clock at night now. Abby’s contractions were growing stronger and longer. The doula asked us if we wanted to have a home birth. We told her that we didn’t. “If you don’t want to have this baby at home, it’s time to go”, she said.

We climbed in the car, and drove back to the Birth Center.

To be continued…