my own personal - a birth story
originally published January, 2012
As I said yesterday, I am going to revisit a few older posts as I lead up the my one year blogging mark. These are a few about what it's like to be me, a practicing mammal. Things I like, things I think about, things I do well, things I do badly. Thought you'd enjoy that. Huck turned nine today. January 18th, 2003, I gave birth to him on the bedroom floor.
It's a funny story so I think I'll tell it.
It was a Saturday afternoon and I was about a week overdue. Alice wanted to get to confession at the Saturday night Mass, and Sparky had taken the boys out for haircuts. I don't really like saying, no I can't take you to confession, but I was really feeling kind of tired.
I was busy reupholstering the dining room chairs, which was a little awkward with my belly and all, but I was running out of things to be nesting about. The house was gleaming. After I reupholstered each seat, I would have to sit back and take a few deep breaths. Finally I thought, because I felt so funny that I should call the midwife and tell her that I felt funny.
Well. She said she was going to come over and check on me because I sounded funny. So I said okay. What else was I going to say. So Sparky got home and she was already there. I was in my bedroom and the midwife was coming down the stairs when he walked in the door and greeted her with, how is she?
Oh, she's fine, she is three centimeters dilated. WHAT!? Sparky bolts up the stairs to catch the baby. But I wasn't actually in labour yet. You see, three centimeters was the highest centimeters ever reported with me in labour, it has just been three centimeters; baby. Just like that. But, this time, I wasn't even in labour yet. Nothing except funny.
Our midwife says she is going to stick around for a little while, just to see if anything interesting happens. Her back up will arrive shortly with her three month old baby. I phone our people, support for the kids, friends, my mom and dad. I let them know that I am not in labour, but on alert. They know my labour history.
So they all come over.
So we have our Me, of course, Sparky, our five children, the professor is dressed up as Frodo Baggins, two midwives and one of their babies, our friend and neighbour, another friend and her five month old baby, and my mom and dad. They are milling about the house to see if anything interesting is going to happen. Conveniently, around this time I start having a few contractions. After about 45 minutes of these, I say to Sparky that I think I actually am in labour.
So luckily everyone is there. A few minutes later my water breaks where I am labouring in my bedroom. So now we are sure it is labour. I mention that I feel like I have to push. So everyone comes in my bedroom. Except my mom who is squeamish.
No one else is squeamish, so there are thirteen people in my bedroom, including the two babies. I start buckling down to push in a squat on the floor. Silas, who has just turned three, looks a little nervous. I ask him if he wants to go out of the room with somebody. No, I want to stay. Okay, you tell me if you want to go out though.
I bear down. He looks a little more nervous. Do you want to go out of the room now? No, he says, I want a popsicle. His voice is a little shaky. I want a blue popsicle.
Awkward. Okay, I say, just let me push the baby out and then we'll get you a blue popsicle, okay? Okay. He calms down.
I push the baby out. A little brother, Huckleberry! We cut the cord, I get into bed and snuggle my baby. I ask Sparky to please call our friend whose wife is at our birth with their baby to please come over to see the new baby and bring a blue popsicle.
It's January. He drives to four different stores and gas stations in our small town before he can find blue popsicles. He brings enough for everybody. We all sit in our bedroom at ten o'clock at night eating birthday cake and popsicles. It's fun and kind of weird.
