Jaimin & Chris’s Birth Story
Sometime around 5pm on June 24th, which is my father in law's birthday; we were having a socially-distanced celebration in our driveway when I realized I was having some very mild waves. I started to count them, they were occurring every five minutes or so and lasting about ten seconds. They were so mild, I kept thinking it's going to be days and days of this until I get to see my baby!
The excitement finally wore off enough for me to get to bed around 11pm. All of a sudden, by 11:30p I had these intense cramps that were taking my breath away. My husband was sleeping and I thought, well, I should try and sleep through these just in case it amps up from here. My due date had been the 22nd and since this is my first baby I was anticipating my little one to stay comfy until at least the next week.
Well, a few moments after these thoughts I had a powerful breathtaking wave that honestly scared me, and I knew it was time to wake my husband. I told him the pain was shocking, and I wasn't sure if I could really do this. He immediately started to run a warm bath, get me some water, and start timing the waves. Each one was even more shocking, frightening than the last and I knew then that this is exactly why women choose pain relief in a medical setting - but this was not the path I chose.
The vision my heart leapt and bounded toward was to stay home, surrounded by the comfort of my husband, our cats, and the warmth of the home we've created. This is what I wanted my baby to feel and experience when she or he entered the world. In contrast, I also knew that if I continued on the path of fear, this would defeat the purpose of my warm, intimate, and comfortable intentions. I continued this thought process, between crashing waves, as the bath filled.
When I got into the warmth of the water my muscles relaxed and my soul comforted my fearful brain. It was at this moment I found my breath. What a gift. My breath was the single most useful strength available to me. This breath was my guiding light. It flooded my body with oxytocin, power, drive, and will. I felt mighty, with all the spirits of the women in my family who birthed before me, cheering me on from beyond the veil. This singular moment that I gave to myself gave me enough endurance for the next 34 hours. In this breath also came a mantra. I had prepared many mantras in the time leading up to my birthing, and had been practicing visualizations as well, but what really stuck with me was something new: "breath in, breath out." So simple.
Since each wave was only lasting about 20 seconds with five minutes apart we did let our birthing team know, but I didn't feel like it was time for everyone to rush over. I had a lot of work to do before I was ready for help. So, for the next 30 hours, I breathed in, and out, through each wave, I moved from our bed, to the bath, to the wonderful summer heat of our porch, I ate little bits of fruit, and drank water and lemon/lime gatorade. Throughout the entirety of the 25th of June, the waves were steady besides for one moment when I told my body that what I needed the most, and what my baby needed, was a nap. I concentrated and meditated my way into a deep dreamless sleep while my husband watched over me. It lasted a glorious 45 minutes until I awoke to the light touch of a wave that rumbled into a crash.
My rest was over, and the hard work was here, urging to be completed. This was around three in the afternoon. Between waves I was able to get myself from the porch to a more comfortable series of positions on my bed. I had started to think it might be time to call our team, but I found myself in a place of denial, is this baby really coming now? How much longer could we have? Days and days? The waves were one minute long and 3-5 minutes apart, there was some bloody show, but very little, and no signs of the water bag leaking. I needed to trek on and continue my mantra and breath work.
My husband and I had prepared records and playlists for months, but I never asked for music, and he never suggested it. I found intense comfort in the silence and sounds of my home, and allowed the flow of labor drugs, the hormones made by my brain, to lead me into what I think of now as my "birthing mind." I didn't need much in this place, just warmth and a quiet comfortable place to meditate in.
Somewhere in this space I mentally "woke" up enough to realize that both of our cats were draping themselves across my back and belly almost perfectly hitting pressure points that greatly eased my discomfort. I remembered suddenly of someone telling me that cats are natural doulas. I think there is truth in that. They never left my side (literally) though my entire progression of labor, and I was deeply comforted and thankful for their presence. My husband was also so strong, loving, and helpful throughout this entire process. I can see him almost from a third person perspective watching the woman he loves breathe through what seem like agonizing contractions, and feel helpless that he can't speed up or truly ease the pain. He was so wonderful though, he timed hundreds of contractions in order to monitor when we would call our team, he ran bath after bath, and he breathed with me. He never left my side, and even napped on the bathroom floor while I found comfort in the water of the bath.
I didn't want to be touched, which was very surprising to both of us. Every touch from him brought on another stronger, forceful wave. So he just stayed as close as he could without touching me, watching over me, and in his own way protecting me from an invisible yet powerful force.
Before I really knew it, it was 2:17am on the 26th, and something had changed. My legs started to ache, my body shook, my teeth chattered, and I couldn't get warm even though it was still 80 degrees outside. I kept thinking I had bruised my thighs, but it was just my baby inching lower and lower into the birthing canal. My hips were making room for her grand entrance, which must have put residual pressure on my upper legs.
After a long series of waves (again, shorter waves, decently spaced) I thought, how much longer could this really go on? But then I somehow, again, just kept going, and tried not to think about time. All of a sudden something changed again, I had a wave that lasted FOUR agonizing minutes and then another a few seconds later, and another a few seconds after that - I told my husband, "IT'S TIME! Call the team!” Then I asked, “Wait, what time is it?” Hah, I somehow was still concerned with waking our team up even in the middle of the most powerful and intense feeling I've felt in my life.
Sometime around 4am our doula arrived and confirmed it was baby time, and recommended that Emme and Grace get there ASAP. She was surprised we had waited that long, and when Emme and Grace arrived a short while later they were even more surprised we had waited so long to call. I think part of me was in sincere denial and the other part of me didn't understand or recognize how much time had passed and what time even meant. When I was in my birthing mind, time was completely obsolete.
It was so great to see our team, I was so comforted by their presence and attention to medical detail. Right away they were listening to baby's heart, my heart, and getting our bedroom ready for birth. The birthing tub was being filled, and they moved me from the bathtub to the fantastic warmth, buoyancy, and spaciousness of the birthing tub. While I birthed on, I really can't remember or know what our team was doing, but I did notice all sorts of medical supplies in the general vicinity, heard clinks and clangs of kitchenware. It felt nice to have people in our home.
Long after the birth, I realized I was so comforted by people being in our home because we hadn't had anyone over since the pandemic started. A very rare occurrence for my husband and I. Our home has an Open Door Policy, we welcome everyone, we even put these words in our wedding vows because it means so much to us to have people over and make them feel at home as well. Mi casa es su casa.
Right around 7am my wonderful mother-in-law came over. She had been on the fence about whether or not she would be around for the birth. I had made it known months and weeks beforehand that if she wanted to be there, I had no issue one way or another with her presence and witness of her grandchild's birth. After all, my grandmother had been at my birth, and my grandmother and I had been witness to my younger brother's birth. My mom felt strongly about having the closest family members around to first greet baby and I liked that idea.
While my mother in law fed me peaches I realized I was starting to feel different yet again, but this time instead of denial I was so sure of what it was - it was time, this baby is going to be here soon, I knew it. I finally knew it for sure. I was feeling "pushy" - I told this to our birthing team and their response was that I knew how to birth this baby, they couldn't tell me how, because I already knew. Wow. Incredibly empowering, and I can't be more thankful for that.
I was curious how much I was dilated, Emme checked and said six centimeters... I thought, hmmm... close enough! I'm going to push! No one in the room was there to stop me, I got onto my knees and with each incredible wave I bore down and used my vocal chords. I would push this person out with the strength of my diaphragm that I've used for years to produce music, I'll use this tool of practice to get my baby here. The better and stronger I push, the less time I'll have to spend wondering "when." I would start with a low and deep chord and work my way into higher and higher octaves, then relax. I did this eight times, until I finally said "She's here! Chris! You have to catch her!!"
We never found out the sex of our baby, but somehow I knew who she was. Chris got into position with guidance from Grace, but since we hadn't initially decided to deliver in water, he wasn't sure how to get baby from me but also back to me. So thankfully Grace was there with very quick and experienced hands to guide my baby in the water, through my legs, and into my arms. What came next, was the most challenging part of my entire experience of labor and birth. My baby had her cord tightly around her belly, and it was kinked. She wasn't getting oxygen from the placenta, she was suffocating. She was limp with no signs of life.
While I held my daughter, Grace's quick actions untangled the cord, and Emme swooped in with the mask to give my baby some breaths. With three quick pumps, in my arms, my daughter took her first breath of life. Emme and Grace saved my daughter's life. They saved our family. I had been on the receiving end of a lot of flack from friends and family to not have our baby at home in case of this very scenario. But I will tell you, I can't be more sure that I made the right choice to have my baby at home even in this scenario, because she was given life in my arms, and was never taken away from me.
Emme was so incredibly fast and skilled at getting life into my child. It was a hard moment, but I am forever grateful that my daughter never left my hands, her cord wasn't cut, and she wasn't taken away from me to be revived. She was very quickly resuscitated in my arms and from that moment forward everything was serene, our lives together could begin immediately.
The aftercare that we received was beyond amazing and we are so appreciative. Being in my own bed, in my own clean sheets with my husband and our newborn daughter was the epitome of comfort after the hours of hard work we had put in. Everyone safe, snuggled in, enveloped by the warmth and love of our home.
*Timeframe: Waves really started around 930p on the 24th, then amped up by 1am on the 25th, and were steady until 2:17am when I had a four minute long wave, then things changed again at 4:40a on the 26th when the waves really crescendoed until I gave birth at 9:44a. Every wave was about three to five minutes apart until the end.
