I was a surprised the morning I awoke to my sac of water breaking. It wasn’t necessarily early; our baby girl was due in two more weeks, but for some reason it was a shock. I sat up in bed and realized I would finally meet our second baby girl that day. My last birth involved an epidural and I had decided this time would be different. After eating breakfast, showering and making sure our daughter was safe in the care of her grandmother, we got our things and headed to the birthing center.
Rob and I left for the midwife-led birthing center knowing there were no free rooms. We were told on the phone they were very busy and it might be possible that a birthing room would not available, in which case I would give birth in one of the exam rooms. Obviously this was not an ideal situation, but I refused to let any negative thoughts creep in. A week before we weren’t even sure if we would be able to go to the birthing center, as our baby had been in the breech position. The doctors were able to turn her around with a cephalic inversion and luckily she stayed head down. I felt blessed that we were able to have a natural birth after thinking that I might have to have a cesarean section. We were prepared to deal with what the day would hold for us.
So far I had been breathing through my contractions very easily, taking time to rest in between. The midwives suggested we take a walk outside, but I preferred to stay close to the center and away from the busy streets of central London. Rob and I sat on a bench for about an hour, watching the hustle and bustle of the hospital outside the birthing center. We decided to go back inside, as I was drinking lots of water and needed to use the bathroom frequently. I sat in the waiting area, when my contractions came I stood up, faced the wall and put my arms up to support myself against it. There were women, some with partners, coming in to the birthing center for last appointments and orientation. Rob and I were scheduled to have ours that weekend. I was acutely aware that these women, most of whom were about to have their first baby, were watching me in order to glean some understanding of what their labor might be like. I focused on remaining focused and calm. As the contractions got stronger I used the wall to center and support myself.
By the time my midwife, Ona, came to tell us that our room was free, I was feeling the urge to get down on my hands and knees. I knew it wouldn’t be long. Our room was calm, clean and dimly light. Everything was there: a birthing stool, ropes to use as arm support, a birthing pool, a bed. In my mind I had pictured myself using the birthing stool, but when we entered the room I decided to try using the ropes. After one or two contractions I asked to have the pool filled up. Within minutes it was full. I climbed in and didn’t leave until our baby was born.
The contractions in the final stage were the most intense yet somehow beautiful pains I have ever felt. With warm water enveloping me, Rob and Ona wiping my brow with a cool cloth and giving me sips of cool water, I pushed for half an hour. With each contraction I reached further inside myself for strength, knowing this was what my body was designed to do. Her head came out and I stayed in the water until she was born at 1:30 p.m. I took her in my arms and held her until the cord stopped pulsing. She was beautiful. Her name would be Grace.
