The Birth of Ruth, Part 3: Transition and Pushing (the action post!)

Content warning: This post contains graphic images of birth. Photo credit belongs to Lauren LaBarre.

As the contractions mounted, I found myself impulsively resisting them by whispering "No, no, no!" I consciously worked to verbalize "Yes" and "Wide Open" instead, hoping the change in words would bring about a change in physical experience as well. I also attempted horse-lip breathing to release and relax after each surge, but they were starting to sound frantic. 

(I joked to everyone in the room that I felt like I was making "Cardi B tongue roll sounds," which is still funny to me even now, but also served as my third clue that for some unknown reason I was feeling self-conscious and outwardly-focused rather than fully centered.)

These images capture me trying my very hardest to hold still so the midwives could listen to Ruth's heart-rate through the duration of a contraction. Staying still is absolutely not a requirement - I was told multiple times that they will "follow" me - but the accommodator in me was trying my best to make it "easy" on them.

10:14 pm

The birth assistant arrived. This was a midwife I'd never met before, which was different from my previous birth experience. Immediately upon finishing my current contraction, I turned to introduce myself to her. Even as I write this now, it stands out as one of the strangest moments in my birth story to me, and my fourth major clue that I was simply not allowing myself to fully relax into my own body. 

You see, one of the reasons I chose to deliver my babies at home was the luxury of being supported by completely familiar surroundings, including my birth providers. So, as I felt myself shifting into the exceedingly vulnerable Transition Phase of labor, I needed to recalibrate the familiarity dynamic in the room. 

In essence, this introduction was my way of saying, "Hey, If you are going to enter my birth space, I will at least know your name."

10:30pm

Even though absolutely no one was telling me to do otherwise, I announced, "I'm sorry, I just really need to scream right now." 

In hindsight I see that unprompted declaration as my way of roaring myself, finally, into a seat of Power at my own birth. Better late than never, I suppose.

Justin says these two images (taken back to back) perfectly summarize this birth. Ferocity followed by Peace.

Much like Lucy's birth, I found I absolutely loved the freedom of volume. And yet, with the next contraction, I yelled "Get her out. Get her out of me right now!" 

In looking through the birth records after the fact, I see now that Ruth's heart rate was not decelerating as it should. My midwives were, of course, monitoring the situation, and had noted their plan to suggest IV fluids and cervical check should we endure another contraction without appropriate deceleration. But blessedly, I wasn't aware of these specifics at the time (though instinctively I obviously knew I was nearing the end). 

10:39pm

Sure enough, I announced, "I'm pushing!" (Another great luxury of Home Birth: I didn't need any form of "permission" to do what my body was already doing naturally.)

10:42pm

I felt my water break and Ruth's head emerge. And then, for two long magical minutes, a hush came over the room as I relaxed back against Justin, palming her head and settling into the silent anticipation of her arrival. I knew she would be in my arms soon, and I cherished that space where she was beautifully between worlds. 

10:44pm

I felt the final surge of birth and Ruth's body slipped into the water, with my midwife bracing her tiny fist (which she had determinedly worked out alongside her little jaw during that peaceful two minute interval between contractions). 

We pulled her against me, and I immediately noticed her cord felt much shorter than it had been with Lucy. Rather than resting against my chest, she was mostly curled against my abdomen. 

From this angle, I was able to see her more fully and marvel at how different she looked than anything I anticipated. Her face was swollen, eyes squeezed shut, cheeks ruddy on one side (likely from her nuchal fist). 

Birth is a crazy thing. I carried this tiny being with me for 40 full weeks, intimately experiencing her kicks and stretches, hiccups and head drills, and yet...she was still a complete stranger to me. However, to her, I was the most familiar thing in the world. To her, I was home. 

Ruth was born at 10:44pm on Wednesday, July 17, 2020 (her exact due date). She weighed 7lbs 6oz and was 20 in long. My labor consisted of approximately 13 hrs of beautifully slow-building early labor and 3 hrs of active labor (including just 5 precious mins of pushing).