Birth Stories: Ira Maxwell Worsham

The morning of October 7, we woke up to angry panicked calls from the in-laws. They were under the impression that I'd been in active labor for three days & that we were being foolish,the baby would be damaged etc etc..what a crappy wake up! There's our 5-year-old crying about going to school,plenty of stress already now this blast of anger and adrenalin. John is brave & stands up for our family but it still upsets him. Off he goes to take sad daughter to school & I fume rage & get ready for what I hope god is the last prenatal at Laurie's. As I drive up John calls & wants to meet there. I'm so glad we all three talk through this snarl. It helps clarify our fears & commitment to our home birth. I also 'fess up to the fact that I want to induce... for my own reasons & it doesn't mean I'm capitulating to the "dementors". I love Laurie for giving us space to arrive at what's right for us. I leave calmer with herbs,breast pump & action plan.

At home I wait for my mom to bring Louella home..feel a little nervous but mostly excited—things will move. I eat lunch, settle in with our girl, start the pattern of tincture,pump, then rest for ten minutes. I'll be done at 3:45. The pump hum is both obnoxious & hypnotic. I sit in bed listening to its drone & to Anonymous 4, savoring the tincture burn under my tongue. As Laurie foretold, there are some medium contractions about two minutes apart. I wonder if this will really work? What if they don't come back in the morning? I decide to enjoy the flow. Sometimes I get up & sway to the music, imagining medieval ancestresses & reed-strewn floors.

The last round is done. Action complete, go about business. I call John to tell him how it's going. He has some good news—has talked to the parents & informed them that the last few days have been a warm-up, not official "early labor" and that all is well. Things are as resolved as they'll ever be, considering their basic assumptions of birth=danger. (some closure. I'll take it but I'm still mad) The contractions lessen & space out some, get to the usual go-about-my-business level I've experienced the last few days. I'm tired of timing them. We order take-out for dinner. I've taken the recommended brisk walk around the 'hood. I seemed just to have a tight womb the whole time, with no distinct contractions. The every-two-minute ones came back though after I sat awhile drank water & rested. I'm gonna "give up" eat Chinese & watch TV. It's time for Ella to go to bed. I've updated Laurie & she doesn't seem to have any predictions....maybe I'll crash with daughter & try to get some sleep.

She's out. Not me.This is "longer & stonger" time. Another call to Laurie, who's encouraging but offers no time frame. "Call me when you're ready for me to come over". I hope this is really it, don't want to call too early. John has settled down to watch Gladiator. Hah! I'm needing to lean onto furniture & go "oohhh". It's sinking in that this is REAL. Good thing the tub is up & ready for water. What was that Laurie said about timing the contractions becoming moot after a point? I'm clutching the clay talisman I made in class. This is STRONG, try very hard not to think of the road ahead. Sheela-na-Gig has indeed opened the portal—-BIRTH is with us. I'm scared but riding it. Ella's awake & agrees to be taken from the big bed to her room, since Mama's shouting a lot. It takes me at least three episodes of this shouting to walk her there. I think she'll actually sleep again. As I leave oohh-ing and swaying, I hear a small giggle, turn around and we smile at each other. Somewhere in all this, a neighborhood friend has come to the door & left us flowers and a big stuffed bear for Ella. I saw him through the peephole & fled to go shout.

I'm calling Laurie. NOW. before I have to shout oohh. I barely make it.. she's heard it in my voice & is on her way. Christy,too. John calls our friend who's going to be our daughter's birth pal. I'm pacing around, stopping all the time it seems. I throw up & feel better. Wow. "Oohh" is like my lifeline now. Takes all my attention. The pressure of exhaling & the noise counteract this fire in the belly. Familiar from last time, but somehow still shocking. I'm averse to bright light—so glad I lit candles—Guadalupe be with me—must have dimness. Tired of peeing. Stay on toilet & shout? Must keep moving.

Time is wrinkling—-Laurie & Lois(our friend) are suddenly HERE hugging hello. Definitely surreal being in the grip of the firey power but hearing myself say hi. Trying to let go more, but part of me's whiney & wants a break before the next one. So liminal. This is what I've invoked with prayer & action. Abre la puerta.....sure nuff, a fierce wind is blowing in! Brigid make me stong. Cloak me. I'm on FIRE & this current is oohh-ing through me. I want in the tank! When will it be ready? Not the wait again..please. Christy, the other midwife, is here (when did that happen?) I'm among people, notice words, watch Lois help with bags & bed making. Yet I'm through the mist watching, really. My sharpest reality is this back and forth of pain & noise then relief. It's hard to hear myself be loud, but real me likes it, knows there's no stopping this fierceness. I love holding onto John; he's really here. I try to share the wealth and send some of the fire into him,but ultimately I'm in my own kingdom, with me & it. Trying to let the power through & down—-it will bring Ira!

I can get in the pool! I'm in the arms of Yemaya—the mundane & plastic becomes holy. The heat of the water is magic & I relax, only to let that force roar through again & again. This helps me remember flowing (aaii this hurts let it end!) Moan yourself open, work to lower the tone—aah! loosen the jaw that wants to grimace. I'm shaking, wanting to dodge the next blast—Transition?! Really? John's pouring lovely hot water on my back while I try to sway on all-fours. The pour is too hasty, but I can't get the words out. I'm tired of "oohh" in my ears & try "shhahh" but it's too feeble for this power... I have to meet it with a roar. Get an image of blending with it instead of fighting..good. I was 8cm when I got in, surely 2cm should be crossed by now...such a small gap for such a blaze....image of being hot rock that will make this sacred cauldron boil...holy well & sacred flame...the mix brings life—-ooohh here's another one owwww...try to plunge into each rest and empty out for the next surge, like when T'ai Chi dances you. I notice a fire time has shape, like three hills & valleys.

It's dawning that the heat and moan has a new urgency. I want to writhe—oh! I want to PUSH! yay! already time, but is it? Need a check..mother of god I don't know whether to sink down onto that or rare back & scream! 9? Soon then. So thirsty, scratchy from yelling. More fire, more water, be strong but float...release even though it tells you not to. Check again. So sharp, writhey...9 1/2 with some lip. Laurie's saying melt with it. Perversely, all my softening-in-the-fire imagery has fled. No—must push,No—breathe hahahahhh! Made it through, each one eternal yet I feel like I'm rushing toward destiny & heart's desire. Losing it, pushing out of control a little, breathing...Another check & I hear a whispered "just a quarter"...No! Can't wait...I can listen to my body?! I'm up on my knees bearing down, feels so good & don't care who's watching. Just enough time for a breath then aaooh! Something big is coming. If there wasn't this pain in my belly, this would feel really good! Oh my god I feel roundness! Yes there's a baby brought by the fire wind & water and I'm brought back to earth & myself. Can a cantaloupe really come out? Quiet,mind! Push, pushing so good..Feel for it? Yes, fingers I have. It's already down far! I touch a bulging sack of water, surprisingly tough & greasy. Feels like I'm astride something again. Pushing, groaning..It BURNS! I pant without instruction a bit, grunting happens without my bidding & just as I try to soften & breathe the next one POP! SLITHER! It's over—oh, yes that= he's here!

An eternal second and Ira's on me, so white...cord..hanging in space for a time I look at Laurie & realize I can lift up to unwrap it now he's free. I'm shakily rubbing loose waxy little skin, calling to him—my heart!—-She gives him breath, then takes him for me...rubbing & air, little cries I hear from beyond my mist...I'm still in laborland and my mind is refusing to revisit the fear of Ella's first minutes so I sink into my murky water (which my eyes see for the first time) talk with Lois & just know I'll have my baby to hold. My Ira will be ok.

Another contraction (aren't they gone?) & Christy helps me birth the placenta. I'm a little more present and can hear encouragement for Ira more cries...they're giving him oxygen. I rise, very ready to leave my waters, get in my robe(planned, old, comfy one) and get helped into a pad & bed. I feel I'm on shore at last. There's a wee little pipe wafting air at Ira's nose (so gentle). His head is turned to John. I feel happy in the lamplight, just coming back for a while. Laurie weighs him, checks him, all ok. She shows Louella (my quiet watcher over the tank) how to dress him. So glad we're here, our group of seven. Just right.

It's "the" moment — I hold him again & we get to nurse. Can't describe such love. He's perfect. We've both had a long journey together and now we can drift & be blissful. I have a flash of the enormity of him, a familiar stranger, spanning from zygote to man. Ira Maxwell Worsham. Blessed Be.

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