Sierra's Birth
-Jessica, Vienna
Sierra was conceived on January 5, and so she was due in late September/early October. Still, in late June, I started having symptoms of pre-term labor. There were a series of episodes where my belly would harden with a long, continuous contraction – for six or so hours without relief. It was uncomfortable, and caught my attention, but I mostly wrote it off until I had a dream that Sierra was born too early – healthy, and a good birth, but much too early. I woke that morning with the strange contractions, and nothing would help it go away, so I told Francesca.
The next time it happened was on a Sunday, just after Francesca was in town to see Lisa and Burt, so she sent Aimee to check on me. I was about 26 weeks, but my cervix was soft as at term, and I was about 30-50% effaced. I followed up with Dr. Tchabo to make sure I was on his radar. He asked for a sonogram to measure my cervix and check on the baby. Both tests were reassuring. He advised me to reduce my activity, so I did a bit, and things seemed to settle down for a while.
At 32 weeks, I started having regular contractions. They caused no pain, but they were regular; so I talked with Francesca again. She checked me, and I was slightly more effaced but not dilated, so I decided not to worry. A few days later, though, I felt Sierra drop; the contractions came more regularly. So I followed up with Tchabo – just a few days after Francesca had checked me, he found me almost fully effaced and beginning to dilate. He prescribed Nifedipine and more rest.
The Nifedipine made my heart race, but I found that it stopped contractions so long as I was sitting or lying down. So if things started up, I’d lay down – no big deal. But on the third day of the medicine, I found that even lying down I would have contractions – 6 per hour – so we called Tchabo and I went to the hospital. I cried on the way: I felt so sad, so responsible, so defeated and helpless.
When we got to the hospital, they hooked me up to a fetal monitor, and Tony went for a snack. I started to talk to Sierra, when the nurses left; I said that I wanted to meet her as much as she wanted to meet me, but it was better to wait just a bit longer and be born at home. If you’re born here, I said, they’ll take you from me right away because you’re so little. But if you’re born at home, we can all go upstairs and snuggle in bed, instead, and it’ll be much nicer. Sierra seemed to listen: my contractions stopped then. We went home, relieved. That night we chose Sierra’s name, and Tony made plans to take a week off work so that I could be on modified bedrest.
Right before 34 weeks, my friends held a beautiful motherblessing for me and for Lisa. I was so relaxed that Sierra turned breech the next morning! I was ecstatic: if she’d turned, she was no longer engaged. So I came off of bedrest, and two days later, I thought I saw a change in cervical fluid like bloody show. Francesca was in Colorado, so she sent Marilee to check me. Marilee found no cervical change, which was good, but advised full bedrest until 36 weeks.
In the morning, Tony set up the bedroom with a TV, books, computer, and toys for Sam. He packed a cooler of food and drinks, and my mom came for the day. I called Sara, who organized in-home playmates for Sam for the next two weeks. Veronica agreed to come and care for the dogs each day. The church organized dinners for us. I felt so supported, amazed at the wonderful community surrounding me!
During the 35th week, I tried to stop the Nifedipine, but contractions started in at 48 hours (when the extended release tablets were due to wear off). So, I went back on the medication.
On the Friday night before I turned 36 weeks, I stopped the medication. Saturday morning, I came off of bedrest. It was so great to be up and about! I went to the grocery store and prepared for Sierra’s birth: I bought red roses to celebrate, and to symbolize opening during the birth. I bought birthday balloons and supplies to make a birthday cake. I went to the library, and when I came home, I made an Elmo-shaped cake in anticipation of Sierra’s birth. That evening, Francesca flew in from Colorado and did a last prenatal.
On Sunday, we took Sam to the Reston Watermines. As we left, at 4:15, my contractions started: 15 minutes apart, 1 minute long. We went to visit Jerry and Veronica, but cut the visit short, because at 5:30 my contractions were only 7 minutes apart. We called Francesca to let her now, and we headed home. On the way, Tony stopped at the Radio Shack to pick up DVR tapes. By the time we got home, I was grumpy with all of Tony’s jokes, and the contractions were getting stronger and closer together. We decided to take a walk to keep things moving. Tony put Sam in the stroller, and I went upstairs to the bathroom before we left. I had a few much stronger contractions at 5 minutes apart, so I asked Tony to call Francesca and Liz and ask them to come. I put on my labor necklace from the motherblessing, and we headed out.
We walked down to the trail behind our neighborhood, even running into our neighbors and friends, Inga and Andy. I drank coconut water to help my cervix dilate. The contractions were taking my breath away and forcing me to stop walking every few minutes, as we got back to the house. The sun was beginning to go down. Francesca, Alessandro, and Laura had arrived, and they were setting up in the house. I warmed up some food while Tony set Alessandro and Sam up with a movie. Then I escaped out the front door to walk again, eager for time alone to concentrate.
I watched the sun go down, the sky bright red, during a contraction. I whispered to Sierra how beautiful the sky was, rocking back and forth, telling her what a lovely night she’d chosen to come into the world. I walked on for a while, checking in at the house as I lapped back around, until it was dark and my feet hurt too much to keep walking (even barefoot).
When I came back, I was surprised by how quiet and bright the house was. So, we opened the windows to hear the crickets, lit the candles from the Blessingway, and turned out the lights; we put on the CD of relaxation music I’d chosen. Laura offered to massage my feet so I could walk again, and she added acupressure points to help along the contractions. Labor slowed a bit, but was strong.
I went to walk again with Tony, to keep things moving. We called Lisa to come now, since things seemed to be established and I expected to birth by morning. Just as we headed up the block, Sam started screaming after us. Liz was apologetic, but we didn’t mind: Sam came with us on our walk in the stroller, and he fell asleep on the way.
My contractions were getting a little too strong to handle standing on the walk, and too uncomfortable to just stop and squat through, so when we got back to the house we stayed. Tony brought Sam upstairs to the bedroom and we all lay down. Strangely, side-lying was the most comfortable position for me this time: I couldn’t tolerate it with Sam’s labor! I nursed Sam back to sleep, and nursing brought on stronger contractions that I had to vocalize through. This kept Sam lightly awake; every now and again, he’d vocalize with me, ask if I was okay, or pat my back to comfort me. (My two-year old doula!)
Eventually, I was hungry. I asked Tony to make some bacon. I ate almost a full pound by myself, drowning it with apricot juice. Afterwards when I nursed him, Sam fell asleep heavily. I nursed him occasionally through the night, but he slept until morning.
At this point, I got into a good rhythm with labor. It took a little effort and alone time. I kicked Tony out for a bit, and I tried walking, steps, the birth stool, the birth pool, the toilet, side-lying, standing, dancing …. I remember laboring on the birth stool in the kitchen, where I kept pausing during my laps through the living room. I felt pressure and wetness between my legs, so I felt with my hand, and noticed lots of blood in the stringy mucous when I pulled my hand away. I said to Liz, who stood nearby, “Oh, that’s bloody show.”
Mostly, I kept retreating upstairs by myself to concentrate. When Tony came to check on me in the wee hours, I asked him to rub my back between contractions, since it was starting to ache. I was sitting in butterfly position, and the contractions were so strong in my pelvic bone that I had to use my arms to rock up off of the bed during each contraction. Afterwards, I’d either lean forward for a back rub or back to rest in Tony’s arms. I had found a lovely tone to vocalize, that I really could feel opening my cervix. Things seemed to be going really well; when I felt my contractions lengthen and the rest time almost completely disappear, I headed downstairs with Tony for the birth pool.
We were there for just a bit, and my contractions quickly became erratic. Some were strong, especially when I felt Sierra kick between them; others were short and mild. They began to space out, so I got out of the tub and returned upstairs. I decided to lay down for a bit to rest and vocalize again, and try to get labor moving once more. Then I saw the sun start to rise. I was shocked. I felt hopeless. The labor that we had all expected to be so short had lasted at least twelve hours to morning, and now I was certain Sierra wouldn’t be born for many more hours, until the sun set again. I cried a bit, and I let myself drift to sleep; Tony was snoring beside me.
After about an hour of napping, I woke up and Tony was still sleeping beside me. I was very irritated with him for this, and more so when he woke up and took care of himself and Sam. I knew this was irrational, so I thought maybe I had an emotional block that was keeping me from birthing. I tried a dose of Pulsatilla 200C, but all it did was put me more solidly to sleep for a few hours.
When I woke a few hours later, Tony was still sleepy. I cried again in disappointment, but I got up: it was bright out, it was getting hot and my contractions were making it uncomfortable to sleep. They stayed regular and painful, but too slow, all day long; my left-lower back ached through each one.
I went downstairs and thought about eating, but I wasn’t hungry. I turned on the air again, and went to the basement to join Alessandro and Francesca watching a movie. Everyone else had gone home for a bit. Liz was pushing Sam on the swing outside.
In the early afternoon, Laura came back with a change of clothes for Alessandro. She offered me another massage when I was ready, and some body work to help. I wasn’t hungry yet, but I was sure I needed some nutrients, so I made a kefir smoothie and drank some of it before lying down for a massage. (Lisa, meanwhile, was making a quiche downstairs. The smells drifting upstairs were fantastic.) Laura helped me to relax and visualize; her touch was very calming, and for the first time I felt myself completely let go of tension during each contraction. I fell completely to sleep at some point during the massage, and I woke very much refreshed. I showered and dressed, and went downstairs.
Francesca offered to check me, but I told her I didn’t want to know. I wasn’t going to do anything with “bad” news except get discouraged; I still had no intention of going to the hospital. But being “up” changed my ability to handle contractions, so I lay back down on the couch downstairs. The sun was setting. I told Francesca how discouraged I felt when the morning had come, and how frustrated I was now that night was falling again—I wanted to labor actively, but my body was tired. My back now radiated with old pain in each contraction, my groin was tense and tender, my voice hurt from so much vocalizing. How could I face another night of labor? What if she was still not born this night?
Laura and Tony took turns massaging me and doing pressure points while I lay on the couch. Liz had taken Sam home for the day, and she returned with him now. Tuesday was the first day of school, so she needed to get good rest that night; she’d have to go soon. She talked with everyone in the kitchen, while Sam came to lie beside me and nurse. He had just latched on and sucked twice, when I felt Sierra drop with a thud in my pelvis, and my water broke explosively all over the couch. I yelped in surprise, which scared poor Sam! He started to cry, and he didn’t want me to console him, so Tony took him for a walk outside.
I said to Francesca, “I know I should get up, but I really don’t want to.” I needed to pee, and the couch was soaked! It was only getting wetter with each contraction, too. Francesca said I didn’t have to get up, so I stayed there for a bit, just adjusting to the fact that it was time to labor again. When my contractions started to get much stronger, I asked them to fill the birth pool again, and I headed up stairs to the bathroom. Laura helped me climb the stairs, and she stayed with me in the bathroom – thank goodness, because the contractions were so strong I was shaking through them and afterwards. I leaned against her belly and gripped her hands, and tried to remember how to let only my uterus work during each contraction. I called back to mind how I labored during my massage that afternoon, and it helped me manage the intensity of these new contractions.
When the pool was full enough, I moved back downstairs. It was too cold at first, so they warmed it for me. I remember it felt like chaos in the kitchen, though the living room, where the pool was set up, was quiet and candle-lit. I don’t know how many contractions I stayed through there by myself, but I remember looking up to see Tony watching me. I told him he couldn’t just sit and watch: he had to get in with me. He wanted to go put on his suit, but I said, “No, just get in naked.” He said, “Okay, just a second,” and he disappeared upstairs and back down again in a split second, now wearing his swimsuit. He stepped into the pool behind me.
We tried laboring like the previous night, me sitting in butterfly during contractions, and leaning back often, but it was too intense. So I tried just to lie back—but I could feel her descending, and my sacrum trying to move out of the way. I couldn’t stand the idea that I might be keeping her back, or that I was putting pressure on her head, so I moved to hands and knees, leaning on the edge of the tub. I wanted desperately to hold someone’s hands, to squeeze something during contractions—so I gripped my own hands. I still shook through and after each contraction, things were so intense! And now I had the urge to scream, midway through each contraction. So, I tried to vocalize as much as possible, and then bit my thumbs and my hands to keep from screaming. Someone offered a washcloth to me, and I started to bite that instead, afraid I would break my skin with my teeth.
I remember at some point, Tony was helping folks set up the camera and some lights. Not long after, Lisa showed up at the front door—just in my peripheral vision, though I didn’t look—and she started to shoot video, too.
During contractions, I had wanted not to push, since I had pushed too hard (both tearing and wearing out) last time. But I found it hard to fight the urge, so in the middle of each contraction, when the urge was strongest, I changed my vocalization. Instead of a low, even, singing tone, I growled – a long, low, guttural exhale. Then I’d vocalize again. After a few contractions like this, I noticed that I could feel her move down with this sound. So I tried to do it more—and then it took over as the urge during contractions, as the only sound I made or wanted to make.
I could feel her head begin to crown with each contraction – a slight burning sensation would start, and then she’d recede. Finally, I felt her head stay. The next contraction, flashes were going off, so I knew they could see her. I thought I felt pressure on my rear, and I shouted at Tony not to touch me except on my lower back.
I heard Francesca whisper to Tony, and I figured she was telling him how to catch Sierra. (I had wanted to do this myself, but it wasn’t possible in this position, and I didn’t want to move.) The next contraction, her head had to be out, I felt, because I was so full. It really burned. I wanted to shout for help, but I didn’t want help – I knew that – so I screamed that it hurt.
While I rested from that contraction, I felt pressure again—this time at my perineum—and I thought someone was touching me, so I asked, “What is that?” Francesca explained that Sierra was helping to wiggle out. I had been hostile when I asked the question, but realizing it was my daughter, I said to Sierra, “Good job, little girl, thank you,” soothing her. Sam was in the tub with us—he’d been dancing about, playing and helping me vocalize. We had shared sips of the drink that Alessandro brought when I asked for it. Now he looked at his sister and said, “Baby cute!” He giggled.
In the next few contractions, her head was out. She had her hand by her head, and Francesca held her hand back to guard my perineum when Sierra’s head fully emerged (which got another loud, “Don’t touch my butt!” before she explained to me what she was doing). I heard Sierra cry before her head was completely out, which was so exciting! Sam kept talking about how cute she was.
Once her head had emerged, between contractions, I felt wiggling in my vagina. As I asked, “Is she kicking?,” Sierra kicked herself the rest of the way out into the world. Tony caught her, and Francesca told me I could turn around carefully (the cord was short) to hold her. I took her in my arms, praising her for her good work. She barely cried—just looked at me contentedly and sneezed every now and again to clear her lungs. I kept offering my breast to her, but she wasn’t ready. Sam was, though—he cozied up beside us, and he nursed while he looked at Sierra and exclaimed how cute she was, again and again. Then Sierra was ready to nurse, too, and I nursed them together for the first time. 
I started to notice Sierra getting cold, so we got out of the pool and sat on the birth stool with some blankets to birth the placenta. I had so little confidence I could do this part—but soon I had another contraction, and with a very little push, out it came, intact. What a relief! Tony got some watercolor paper from my studio, and Francesca made a placenta print for us.
I didn’t want to let go of Sierra, especially while she was awake and watching me so peacefully, so Francesca brought a bowl for me to try and pee in. This took awhile – eventually I had to ask for privacy, and I did it. This made it official—all was well! I wasn’t even faint, like last time.
Lisa cut my string from the Motherblessing, and we said goodnight to Liz. I was ready to go upstairs. Laura and Francesca began the newborn exam. As Sierra fell asleep, I offered her to them to weigh, while I went to the restroom to get ready for bed. She weighed 8 pounds and 7 ounces! Lisa was shocked, and asked them to check the scale. Francesca confirmed that Sierra was indeed 36 weeks, by examining the bottoms of Sierra’s feet: no folds. (There was no doubt in my mind, anyway.)
I came back, and Sam stumbled up the stairs from playing with Alessandro. We settled into a complex arrangement of pillows, and I nursed them both to sleep. I ate some of Lisa’s lovely quiche and said goodnight to everyone.
Labor had started the day before at 4:15 pm. My water broke at 8pm, and Sierra was born at 9:20: 1 hour and 20 minutes later! The labor was long, but the birth was fast, after all.