The Birth of Ruth, Part 2: Active Labor

7:00pm

It was nearing Lucy's bedtime, so I made my way downstairs, intending to savor my final moments with her as my only child. She was delightedly playing with her "Daniel Tiger House" and I attempted to join in, pausing through some stronger contractions. I thought I was doing a pretty good job concealing my discomfort, but Lucy is exceedingly perceptive. 

Lucy:"Mama, why are you stopping like that?" 

Me:"Well, baby, I'm having a contraction."

Lucy (immediately excited): "Mama! Ruth is pushing on your cervix! You just gotta make strong sounds. Go like this...Unnnhhhh." 

I wanted to indulge her "labor expertise," so I began to mock-vocalize through my next contraction, however my body took the cue. All of the sudden, things began to shift. I turned to Justin and Erlys and said, "I need you to put Lucy to bed now, please." 

My entire pregnancy, I had debated whether I would want Lucy present for her sister's birth, but in that moment I just knew my body was waiting for her to be asleep before it could fully take over. I kissed her goodnight and went into action.

7:30pm

I paged the midwives.  We spoke briefly on the phone and made a plan for them to come to our house within the next hour or so. (Side note: Midwives are amazing. Their ability to assess and interpret labor progress over the phone is such a gift!)

Once Lucy was officially in bed, we dimmed the lights and started the birth playlist. I donned my labor necklace, which had been lovingly made for me by our friends and family - each bead strung with an intentional thought or prayer for Ruth and I.  Justin stepped outside to display our lawn flamingo; the official neighborhood-code that labor had begun. Our windows were open (though the curtains were drawn) and I heard a few neighbors immediately react to this symbol. Swaying slowly by myself inside the living room, I laughed - bolstered by their excitement.

8:50pm

The midwives arrived and began assessing me and making final preparations to the birth space. 

9:22pm

I self-consciously texted our birth photographer an update, ironically nervous I was unnecessarily burdening her too early:"I really hope you aren't here forever and ever, amen. Both because I will feel bad, and also because I want this to be over!"

These texts exchanges would serve as my first clue that, for some reason, I was concerning myself too much with others rather than focusing on my body's progress. Luckily she trusted her instincts and was already on her way to my house. 

(the rest of the photos for this birth story are from the lovely and talented Lauren LaBarre)

Justin and I were mostly given space to labor alone together, with the midwives only quietly intervening periodically to check on Ruth's heart rate and assess my vitals.

We danced and moved through contractions.  My birth affirmations (the same ones I used for Lucy's birth) were splayed out on the coffee table, and I attempted to tune into them, though the pressure of Ruth's descending body was feeling rather acute. 

9:27pm (mere minutes after our birth photographer arrived)

There was a noticeable shift in my contraction intensity.  No matter how hard we tried, we couldn't seem to get the counter-pressure right (though kudos to Justin for not giving up). 

I love the way this image portrays the tenderness which surrounded me in my labor.

Just as I found myself secretly feeling discouraged by my self-perceived lack of strength, my midwives suggested we start filling the birth tub. This process takes approximately 40 mins, but simply knowing relief was coming gave me a needed boost.

10:10pm

I opted to use the bathroom before getting in the birth tub. As I experienced a powerful contraction, I vividly remember leaning against the sink for support and watching myself in the mirror. I noticed something in my nose, which I hastily wiped away, embarrassed it might otherwise be seen in my birth images (the irony of me sharing this now is not lost on me). 

This was another clue that I was bizarrely more concerned with external factors than I was my own body.

I threw my hair into a bun and eagerly stepped into the birth tub. The buoyancy and warmth offered immediate soothing, and yet when the next surge came, I celebrated that labor was still in full force.