“Another one!” I called to Brent, who was timing
contractions. I pulled in a deep breath and slowly blew out, finding focus in
blowing on the inside of my wrist. I relaxed my abdomen as best I could and
heard Brent call back, “Got it! I’m going to let the dogs out to potty before
we go!”
I closed my eyes as the contraction eased up and heard the
trailer door open, then three sets of paws clawing down the metal stairs
accompanied by snarling and growling and Brent’s deep warning, “Nooo!” I waited
for signs of what had happened, unable to do anything to help. I lay on my side
with a pillow prepped between my knees, listening for any indication of what
happened. It was after 10:00 at night—that much I knew. We are staying at
Rancho Jurupa Regional Park. Coyotes are out at night. There are lots of skunks.
But there are also a few early weekenders coming in: there could be other dogs
walking by that upset our pack.
After what seemed an eternity, Brent slowly ascended the
trailer steps and called to me, “Well, the dogs just got sprayed in the face by
a skunk.”
I didn’t even have time to respond. I called back, “Another
one!” and breathed into another contraction.
Thursday, August 18, 2016 had started normally and was
filled with errands. It was hot—95 degrees by the time we started our errands
at 9:00am. I was still uncomfortably pregnant and we were awaiting the weekend
to move our set-up to Yucaipa Regional Park, where we would be staying during
the two-week window of my due date, August 27. Evelyn had gymnastics in Rancho
Cucamonga at 10:00 and we had a chiropractor appointment scheduled in Redlands
with a chiropractor who had been adjusting me to help turn the baby from the
sunny-side-up position at 11:30. We decided I’d take Evelyn to gymnastics and
then to Redlands while Brent drove straight to Redlands to run some errands of
his own and we’d meet at the chiropractor and then have lunch.
It was a busy morning; the adjustment went well. We drove
to Downtown Redlands for pizza and wound up meeting with Brent’s mom and older
daughter, who needed a ride to the airport as she was passing through town. I
walked this pregnant body two blocks from where we parked to the pizza place
and back, reading a local bank’s digital announcement that it was 104 degrees
out.
Brent drove his older daughter to Orange County and I
returned to Jurupa with Evelyn, where I put on a movie for the kiddo but felt
compelled to get things done. I’d been instructed to walk, walk, walk to get
the baby turned, and I was committed to getting her to turn from her side to
her proper position for my comfort and for hers since we had a week and half to
go to “D” Day. I loaded laundry into our wagon and traipsed it across the lawn
to the laundry room, which is luckily close by but in the heat it felt like a
mile. Of course, I forgot the tokens back at the trailer and then a few
essentials that had to be washed, so
that added a few extra laps to the chore. I chatted with a campground host in
the laundry room while I managed six loads into the washers. We chatted again
when I returned to put them in the dryer.
When I got back, Brent was returning and I had developed a
habit of placing my right hand to my lower pelvis. Brent asked what was wrong.
“I may need you to go get the laundry," I replied. "I’ve probably been overdoing it."
I had a dull pain that rose every now and then in my lower pelvis, and though I wasn’t thinking much of it, I was thinking the pizza from lunch along with the heat and exhaustion was probably going to land me in the bathroom at some point. That was about the extent of it. It was around 7:00 pm.
“I may need you to go get the laundry," I replied. "I’ve probably been overdoing it."
I had a dull pain that rose every now and then in my lower pelvis, and though I wasn’t thinking much of it, I was thinking the pizza from lunch along with the heat and exhaustion was probably going to land me in the bathroom at some point. That was about the extent of it. It was around 7:00 pm.
As evening settled in, we went about our business and I
continued to have some cramping every so often. I was totally convinced it was
digestive in nature. I told Brent I was going to go take it easy and lay down
and hoped I would just pass whatever needed to pass. I lay in bed and returned
some texts. I even took a shower to relax but it didn’t ease the occasional
cramping. Brent bathed Evelyn to settle her in for the night and I went in to
help her, but between the cramping and the bending with the pregnant belly, I
apologized that I couldn’t help her much and told her I needed to go relax.
I texted two friends that I had had pizza that was upsetting
my stomach as late as 8:45pm. I wasn’t putting pieces together. This wasn’t
what labor felt like with Evelyn. I had had some similar cramping with her, but
those cramps had quickly escalated to some definitive contractions that I
remembered as having been significantly painful. These cramps didn’t seem to be
getting worse and they didn’t have me incapacitated. It couldn’t be labor.
Then, I stood up and felt a surge come on that froze me in
my tracks. I couldn’t respond when Evelyn asked me a question from the other
room. It occurred to me I could try the Hypno-breathing I’d been reading about
as practice for the “real thing” and when it helped, I realized this WAS perhaps the Real Thing.
It wasn’t until after 9:00pm that I announced to Brent, “Babe,
I think these are contractions.”
He replied, “Ok, what can I do?”
What could he do? Would the contractions end up being false
labor or not? We didn’t have a bag packed. Evelyn was still in the bath. I
couldn’t do anything because I had to keep finding a comfortable position in
which to focus myself through surges.
This is where Brent truly shines. He packed bags with
clothes for me and for Evelyn; he packed fruits, power snacks, drinks, and
sandwiches. He cleaned up and made calls all at once. He got Evelyn out of the
bath and into bed with me.
I wasn’t timing anything at this point. I figured they’d
either go away or get worse and I couldn’t tell which would happen.
At 10:05, I called Tammy, our midwife. She suggested I
start timing them and to try to relax: take a shower, watch a movie, do
whatever I would normally do this time of night. She said to let her know what
happened over the course of 45 minutes to an hour. So, the clock began. Brent
contacted my mom, who would watch Evelyn and be at the birth center with us for
the event. All systems were activated.
Evelyn climbed into bed with me and opened up a counting
book featuring Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck asking me to read to her. I told her I’d read to her but would
have to stop to breathe every so often. I suggested she count during my breaths
to help me out. She did that wonderfully. I explained what may be happening and
told her not to worry about me, that everything happening was normal and was part of how sister would arrive. I asked if she wanted to be there at Tammy’s house
if sister came out of my tummy tonight and she said she absolutely did.
Every two pages into reading, I’d call out to Brent, “Here’s
another one!” and have Evelyn count during my breathing. He’d call back, “Three
and a half minutes!” We were about ten pages in when the dogs got skunked.
Now what??
“Oh well! I’ll tie them up outside and leave them there
when we have to go!” Brent threw his hands up.
“Noooo! Heidi will get eaten by a coyote!” Evelyn wailed in
reply.
Apparently, the skunk had climbed into Evelyn’s bike
trailer and when the dogs charged, they were met with a tail lifted into their
faces. They quickly turned in their tracks and ran to the grass, rubbing their
faces frantically all over the grass. Inside, I read, breathed, and waited while Brent
assessed the damage. He brought a smelly Heidi into the room to share the stink.
She smelled of burnt rubber more than anything; luckily the bike trailer had
taken the brunt of the damage. The decision was made to lock them in the
bathroom with the fan on if we had to leave. Evelyn passed out beside me and
with my counting buddy down for the count, the dogs smelling of skunk, and my
contractions closing to 3 minutes apart in 40 minutes, we decided it was time
to go.
Brent loaded a sleeping Evelyn into the car while I tried
walking around the island in the kitchen. In the back of my head a voice told
me to stay on the linoleum and I ushered myself into Evelyn’s room where I
braced my forearms and forehead against the top bunk for an oncoming surge. I
gasped. Something had happened and I couldn’t tell what. Had the baby fallen
out? Suddenly, a pressure was momentarily removed and it was as if a hatch had
opened. It seemed gallons of water had fallen to the floor beneath me. Brent
heard my gasp as he climbed the entry stairs and rushed to my side. So, that’s
what water breaking feels like! Brent cleaned me and helped me change and
helped me to the car. Baby was officially on her way!
The ride from Jurupa to Yucaipa seemed suspended in time.
It was a time warp comprised only in a series of surges, many of which were
significantly stronger than others. I found solace in deep breaths in and began
humming and making vibrating sounds on my exhales. I squeezed Brent’s hand and
listened to his voice telling me how wonderfully I was doing while finding
focus in relaxing my abdomen and finding comfort in the wave-like movement of
each surge, particularly those that pushed waters out in perfect sync with what
nature intended to happen. My body was working as it needed, but I knew I was
in for a long night and kept in mind that each surge was building to more
powerful surges as we got closer to the moment. I was preparing for the long
haul.
I had a pretty strong surge as we were turning into the
birthing center and briefly doubted myself and my capability to do this, but as
I focused again on the wave it created in my body and the downward motion
needed to push the baby into place, I eased up and relaxed before the next
would arrive. After we got out of the car, I had to lean on Brent pretty
heavily, holding to his neck in the night as another strong surge pushed
through my abdomen. Again, I focused on the wave and found reassurance in the waters
pushed from my body as nature was doing its job.
When we got inside, I found instant comfort in the warm and
calm welcome from Tammy and her helpers. They worked in perfect expertise,
there for me and providing just the hands and words needed to help another
woman in this very natural process of life. They helped clean me again and
helped me to the bed, where my vitals were checked as was my progress.
Tammy announced, “Well, I’m feeling a tiny anterior lip,
but I’m getting you at nine and half!”
“Seriously?!” was my reply. What??? But I thought I was
just in the beginning stages! Evelyn’s labor was 18 hours! It was only 12:00am.
I didn’t even realize I was in labor until after 10:00pm!
I had three surges while lying on the bed and I asked if I
could get in the tub, which had been prepped and filled before our arrival.
Brent told me he wasn’t sure if Tammy wanted me to because I was so close, but
I really wanted to get in that water. The other women helped me to the tub and
I had just sat down when I had another contraction. It was a strong one. My
abdomen even shuddered in a light convulsion I had felt with a couple of the
other stronger contractions.
The midwives helped me turn length wise in the tub before
the next contraction arrived and I turned just in time, it seemed. I breathed
in as I felt it coming on and then felt nature taking over. My body was pushing
her out whether I was going to help or not. I pushed along with the surge and
could feel her pushing out into the world. I took a breath and heard Tammy
suggest I reach down and feel her head. I did and was amazed for a brief moment
but only faintly heard Tammy suggest I push my hand against myself to help her
out because my body was already pushing. I braced myself and pushed with the
surge, and I felt her entire body push out into the water. An amazing release,
a shell-shocked breath in, and a “Look! Here’s your baby!” surrounded me all at
once as a tiny little soul was placed on my stomach.
I did it.
“You made that look easy!” I was told.
I had arrived at the birth center at 11:55pm and she
arrived at 12:10am. I had set a record: She arrived 15 minutes after I had
arrived at the center. I had not believed I was even in labor until only an
hour and a half ago. How did I get so lucky? How could we have been so blessed?
When my mom arrived, she found me still in the tub,
surrounded by the midwives and by Brent at my head telling me how proud he was of
me. A baby lay on my chest, her cord still attached and pulsing.
We waited until the cord stopped pulsing completely. I lay
in the tub with this beautiful creature resting calmly on my chest. I warmed
her with water from the tub and the wet towel that lay over her. Brent stroked
my hair and time stood still in calm serenity. The baby didn’t cry, no one had
shouted or hollered commands at us, and she had entered the world in a peace
that seems to complement her personality harmoniously.
I was helped from the tub to the bed and after some basic
checks and cleaning, we were left to bond as a family. In a moment that stands
out as everyone was complimenting me on how well I had done, Brent made a
comment that will forever stand suspended as particularly flattering to me: “And
your hair even looks awesome!” I know how silly that sounds to have latched
onto that, but I felt I was walking in a glow and it’s those little things that
will forever be preserved in my memory.
Evelyn had slept through the whole thing despite Brent
trying to wake her while I lay in the tub with her sister afterward. He carried
her into the bed to be with us and kept trying to wake her to no avail, but at
least she was there!
Mom was holding the baby when tiny fists went to a tiny
mouth and she told us for the first time that she was hungry. I held her to my
breast and it took her less than a minute to show me she knew just what to do.
She was a natural, latching perfectly and swallowing in seconds.
Brent brought me water and I devoured the fruit he had brought
and the sandwiches my mom had brought. We were checked and baby was checked and
by 4:00am, we were dressed and ready to go home to the comfort of our own home.
I was walking, smiling, completely supported, and not feeling any of the
soreness and fatigue I had felt with Evelyn’s birth.
I’m so grateful for this experience. THIS is childbirth.
THIS is the experience I didn’t know could exist when I had Evelyn. It was
calm. It was peaceful. I was surrounded by confidence and serenity. I was
already healing. Baby was happy and assured by a smooth transition into the world.
Everything about this baby and birth process was a blessing. In the end, she
had arrived “sunny side up”, facing us and the world. It hadn’t made a
difference in labor or delivery, as it turns out. Her entrance does, however,
suit her spirit.
Kailyn Wynsley, this beautiful little soul, is the very
essence of serenity. Her entrance into the world and our family is the mark of
her character. She is the break of night into day and day into night, the calm
of the ocean after the sun has set. The essence that inspired her name has rung
true through her entrance to the world in both the tone and literal sense—the water.
Through a life changing experience for me in childbirth and as a soul who would
arrive to change all of our lives for the better, she is a blessing.
Welcome, Kailyn Wynsley. Thank you, from the bottom of my
heart, for coming into our lives.