There is so much wrapped up in this birth for me, sisters. I wrote it all down just a week after she was born, all the details and all the facts, even as I was still unsure how to make meaning of or peace with aspects of it. But I’ve been very nervous to share this one more widely, hence the delay. Agatha is 3.5 months old at the time that I’m sitting down to write this “public” version of her birth story. I ask that if you venture to read/see this precious (and lengthy) story, that you hold it gently, with compassion, withholding judgment and suspending fear.
(Photos and video are interspersed with text.)
The weeks leading up to when Agatha would be born was incredibly challenging physically and psychologically and I was very impatient. I had never gone this far past my EDD, and so at 41 weeks and some days I even took Midwife’s Brew (which I don’t recommend per se, and which is one of those things I said I’d never do!). At 41+5 I started experiencing pain above my pubic bone and in my lower back that was debilitating, leaving me unable to stand up straight or walk without crying! I was hormonal and emotional, and basically bedridden. I had two nights of some contractions, and she was engaged in my pelvis.
I shed so many tears that week and would daily lay in the bathtub just sobbing and begging Jesus to “deliver me!” I journaled a lot and also tried to deal with whatever fears, mental blocks and emotions came up, letting them all go so that I could be ready to meet my baby. I was bedridden for a few days straight, forcing Tim to take time off work to watch the kids.
I could not comprehend how I would deal with labor when I was in constant pain as a baseline going into it. How would I do the labor dance? How would I get into different positions to work with contractions or to push her out? I was utterly weak and felt completely unable. I didn’t want to labor to start! But I was also desperate to experience contractions so I could get her OUT.
I was so blessed during this week to have several friends reaching out to me regularly to say they were praying for me, to share an encouraging word or meme, a worship song, a scripture verse. They held me up and I clung to them for dear life.
I thought perhaps I had a bladder and/or Kidney infection so saw my PCP at noon-time to have a urine test and lab culture done. I thought if the pain could be explained by an infection then it could be alleviated with antibiotics. But when the test came back negative, I knew that the only way to get OUT of pain was to have a baby. I would have to go through the fire, cos the fire was not going to get extinguished.
Later in the afternoon I had a midwife friend come by to check me and do a membrane sweep, because psychologically I needed it to start soon. (This is another one of those things I said I’d never do, but my idealism was flying out the window). She found I was 95% effaced, 4 cm dilated, with a vaginal vault that felt “squishy”, and baby was at -2 station, but came down to -1 when I laughed. 🙂 There wasn’t much left to sweep cos my body had already done so much, but she worked it a little more.
The only time I felt better during these days was when I was in the bathtub. So though I had not been planning a water birth (nor have I ever had one or even been drawn to the idea of having one!), I began to think that maybe a water birth would be important in helping to alleviate just enough of my baseline pain to allow me relax my tight muscles and to do what birth required of me. So we reached out to my friend and doula-tographer, Annica, to borrow a birth pool and liner she had offered for us on-lend. We got a hose and adapter from another friend, and set up the birth pool in Agatha’s nursery (which adjoins our bedroom) that night, even filling it partway with lukewarm water, thinking that would make it quicker to top off with hot water whenever labor commenced.
I went to bed almost expecting to go into labor that night. I didn’t. Just had a few contractions in the night, per usual, which stopped by morning.
I had been trying to stay off social media in preparation for her birth, not wanting to soak up all the negative energy and fear running rampant in those spaces about coronavirus, racism, politics, and more (what a scary, stressful year to birth a baby!). But on this morning I suddenly felt like I wanted to post on FB, to share about what I was going through and ask for prayers. I wrote a long and very honest post about how much I was struggling. This was at about 7:30 a.m.
The day went on like the others with me stuck in bed, crying and hurting and trying to rest. I watched some stand-up comedy (which became a favorite distraction of mine in the last weeks of pregnancy) and reviewed bits of my freebirth books.
It was about 4:20pm when I recorded/timed what I though might be my first real contraction. I was laying on my side watching a comedian on my laptop when it happened. It felt like a strong menstrual cramp. For the next two hours, as I alternated between laying on my left side and my right side, I breathed through them, holding very still, and timed them. They were 45 seconds to a minute or more long but spaced very erratically at 3-7 minutes apart. I was texting back and forth with friend and birth attendant Heather about them, asking her to help me discern if this was really labor.
Tim popped in at about this time and I told him what was going on. He said, “Why don’t I just fill up the birth pool?” He also asked if he could ask Laura to come over and help with kids’ bedtimes, and I said sure. He finished filling the tub with hot water, and then he took the kids out for a walk. Unbeknownst to me, while on that walk he gave a heads up to Annica and Heather to be on high alert because he suspected that once labor got going it would go fast.
Meanwhile, I decided at about 6 pm to sit up and see what happened. I knew that if it was false labor, they’d likely cease when I changed position. So I first got on my hand and knees, then sat on the edge of the bed. The contractions became very weak, super short, and then just stopped. I sighed. Fake. It was a false start. I texted Tim and Heather at about 6:40 pm and told them so. I said I was embarrassed and annoyed cos now that birth tub was all filled up for nothing and what a waste.
Heather suggested that I just get in it anyway, since it was already full and would probably feel so good for all my aches and pains. I thought that was a great idea so I put on a sports bra that was NOT the one I wanted to wear for my birth (cos I wasn’t having a baby today!), got in the water, and started playing a worship song she sent me a link to on YouTube. The water felt AMAZING, bringing such relief. And then, within a minute or two I was gripped by a very hard contraction that made me cuss.
(These photos were stealthily taken by my husband)
Tim came back from the walk, having handed off the kids to the just-arrived Laura, to check in with me. Soon after he came in the room I had another contraction like that. He said he took one look at my belly and seeing the incredibly tightened uterus and hearing my vocalizations, he began texting Annica and Heather “come now” (but I didn’t know that). He stayed with me as the contractions continued to come, close and long and hard. I felt myself pooping and lamented that I’d failed to obtain a fishnet! So he had to get creative in scooping it out. I also told him I had the wrong bra on for the birth, so he fetched the right one and helped me switch them out. Vanity! Soon the contractions started to have a pushy feeling to them, which I sort of couldn’t believe. But it started to dawn on me that this baby was coming quite soon, but my birth team was not (cos I still hadn’t summoned them).
Tim asked if he could get the kids and I think I just mumbled, “I don’t knoooow…” as a contraction started up again. I could feel baby descending as my body involuntarily pushed. Tim slipped out of the room— I didn’t even notice — as I, on hands and knees, facing the window so I could look at the trees ourside, tried to rest between contractions and center myself for her emergence. The kids and Laura came up with Tim just as a very long contraction began. Hazel breathlessly exclaimed, “It’s happening! It’s happening!” as she set to work taking photos on her new camera. I could swear that I groaned “fuuuuuuck” and then “help me, Jesus” as my body pushed without ceasing all the way past crowning and until her entire head was born, but my family tells me I was quiet?!. I reached down to stroke the top of her head and talk to her, asking Tim and the kids if they could see her face, which they could. Her eyes were open. She was not in her sac of amniotic fluid but I have no idea when it broke, cos I didn’t notice it!
Unlike with my other babies’ births, there was a pause at this point. Instead of being entirely born in one contraction, I had to wait for another one to push out her shoulders and body. That pause felt so long! It was physically stretching, of course, and also mentally challenging. I had to remind myself that a pause like this well within the range of normal, and not a reason to be concerned. That 2.5-minute pause, however, actually allowed me to slow down and catch up with this wild ride, allowed me to get centered and to connect to my baby. I remember narrating her restitution aloud for the my family and feeling her wiggle and maneuver inside of me to negotiate the pelvis. It was incredible to be so present. During the pause my kids were also saying hilarious things, which are captured on the video footage Tim and Laura were recording. Walter said, “Mom, when you’re dong having the baby, I’ll give you this quarter.” Maeve said, “Why are you having a baby right now?”
(These photos were taken by my 9 year-old on her kiddie camera. Our pro photographer hadn’t arrived yet. The time and date stamp wasn’t set so it’s not accurate).
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605318185175_68986 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid { margin-right: -6px; }
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605318185175_68986 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid-slide .margin-wrapper { margin-right: 6px; margin-bottom: 6px; }
Finally, the next contraction came and she was born up to her waist/hips only! I thought that was rather unexpected. I asked Tim whether both arms were in and at that same moment felt that one was still tucked inside me at her wrist, so getting into something more like a runner’s lunge, I gently pulled it free. I did not want to wait for another contraction for her LEGS to be born, so I tried gently tugging to see if she’d come the rest of the way out without a contraction. It worked! She kicked off the top of my uterus and out she came (about 7:20 pm). I guided her to the front of me where I could see her through the water. I let there be a short pause here, just taking in her face and tiny self before slowly, gently lifting her out of the water.
(Photos below are once again by Hazel)
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605321389768_18645 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid { margin-right: -10px; }
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605321389768_18645 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid-slide .margin-wrapper { margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; }
(Video footage on the iPhone by Tim and our friend Laura)
It was so special to have this moment also be slowed down a bit, but I knew I couldn’t let it be quite as slow as I wanted it to be because her color was not good. She was very pale, even beneath her thick vernix, and her lips quite blue. She startled slightly and grimaced when she first cleared the surface of the water, but then she went floppy.
I pulled her to my chest and smiled over her and took her in, but I also sensed that she needed some help. I started with rubbing her very vernix-covered back vigorously, as well as the bottoms of her feet. I talked to her about how happy I was that she was here at last and that I loved her. I reached down to feel her cord to make sure it was pulsing. It was, but it was also thinner and whiter than I would have expected. I asked her if she needed some help and then used my mouth to suction her nose and mouth, spitting out the mucous into the birth pool. And then I gave her breath, covering her nose and mouth with mine and puffing air into her from my cheeks, gentle and small. I sort of did all of these things in varying order, instinctually (not at all textbook, even though I have been trained in neonatal resuscitation) and though she would peek an eye open or make a tiny grunt once or twice, I wasn’t seeing her tone or color improve enough.
Though I felt calm, present, clear and very purposeful, I asked Tim how many minutes had passed and he — who had wisely set a stopwatch to keep track — replied it had been about 2.5 minutes. I instructed him calmly to call 911, thinking that if she did not come around quickly, I would want to know help was en route. He promptly dialed 911 from the adjacent room. Meanwhile, I kept giving her breaths and changing her position and simulating her. Of course — cos isn’t this just the way it goes?! — within 30 second of him getting 911 on the phone, she let out a cry, grimace, movement. When Tim came back in the room I told him she was okay and that we didn’t need EMS after all, but they had already been dispatched. It took some doing to get them to abandon their mission, since their protocol is to come in and check things over no matter what, but I really didn’t want a bunch of uniformed men in my birth space when I knew we were fine, and I knew they would probably try to cut her cord and do things to her that weren’t truly necessary. Finally they agreed to leave our driveway once Tim told them a midwife was on her way to check on us (which wasn’t actually exactly true, but you do what you gotta do).
(Photos below by Hazel again. You can get glimpses of me working with Agatha to get her to respond. Scroll past quickly if this is triggering for you).
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605321389768_24772 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid { margin-right: -10px; }
#block-yui_3_17_2_1_1605321389768_24772 .sqs-gallery-block-grid .sqs-gallery-design-grid-slide .margin-wrapper { margin-right: 10px; margin-bottom: 10px; }
Even after that first breath and cry, she was still slowish in coming around. She seemed to be almost half-asleep, but she was breathing and pink color was coming. Now that she is a week old, I see how she sleeps and how slowly and lazily she wakes up form deep sleep and I wonder if her nature played a roll in her slow-to-come-around status. However, personality cannot account for her color and tone, so I have no regrets about assisting her in finding her first breath.
Once she was ok, the euphoria could kick in! I looked up to see my kids and Laura surrounding me, smiling, and Annica had also just slipped in, followed by Heather a couple minutes later. Tim finished up his phone call with the dispatcher and then also joined the smiling, amazed faces surrounding the birth pool. I made eye contact with Tim and said, “We did it!” He cried, just as much about joy over meeting her as relief of the tension he’d held as he watched everything transpire.
I felt amazing. All the pain I’d carried in my body the days leading up to my birth was totally gone, which was such a relief. I had caught my own baby, my kids had witnessed it, and it happened in the daylight (which the birth photographer in me loved)! My baby was beautiful and perfectly whole, putting to rest all those vague fears I’d had that “something would be wrong” with her because I’m 40 years old (and hadn’t had a single ultrasound to check on her). We just sat in the tub and basked for a while, the kids reaching out in turn to touch her “slimy” head. There was no blood in the pool at all. I put Agatha to my breast and she did what I call “nipple-noodling” where she’s not latching on, but just exploring.
(The rest of the photos are by Annica of Sprout and Blossom, dear friend and talented birth photographer!)
Eventually, Heather and Tim helped me get out of the pool while still holding her to my chest. We didn’t want to cut the cord because we had planned a cord burning for after her placenta was born. We hobbled over to the bedroom and got me situated on incontinence and chux pads on our bed, removed my wet bra and drying me off beforehand. And then began the waiting for the placenta. I had a separation gush of blood, but was lacking any cramping/contractions to help expel it. I wanted to try to keep a quiet, birth-like environment for the birth of the placenta to see if that would help it to come sooner than the 2 hours that I’d waiting at each of my previous births, so we sent the kids downstairs with Laura to bake a cake and watch a show on Netflix. I tried getting in squat and lunge positions both on the floor and on the bed to let the placenta be born, but none of it was working.
We had arranged beforehand to hire a midwife friend to come by to do a newborn exam and help us with navigate paperwork for filing for a birth certifcate. When Tim called her to let her know baby was born and to schedule her visit, it turned out the only time she could come in the next 24 hours was about an hour after Agatha was born. I would have preferred for her to come the following day, because I liked the non-directive and agenda-free energy we had going, but she wasn’t able to do that so I consented to her coming right away. When she arrived, my baby was still at my breast but fussing and crying quite a lot and had yet to latch on successfully as the midwife tried to talk through the paperwork with us. I started to feel very overwhelmed. Heather spoke up and asked me if it was all feeling like too much and I said it was and asked the midwife and Tim to go get started on that paperwork in the other room so I could work on settling in and calming Agatha. A while later, they returned to the room and she did an abbreviated newborn exam.
She then asked if I wanted help with my placenta, which still hadn’t come out. Because I was feeling so impatient about it, I said something like, “Sure! I caught my own baby, I don’t need to prove anything with my placenta!” What transpired ended up being far more intense and prolonged than I expected, and every muscle in my body was tensing up with the discomfort and the energetic pressure of the whole situation and it wasn’t working; the placenta was not budging. Heather reminded me that my placenta had come out while squatted over a toilet after Maeve’s birth and so perhaps we could try that again. So we got me and Agatha to the dark bathroom, put a chux pad under the toilet seat, and I sat down to try to relax my bottom. I finally got in the zone and found the right way to push and out it slid (what a relief!). I had to do it all without contractions/cramping though! I’m sure that makes it harder! I wish I had used the Angelica tincture I had on hand. It took a bit over two hours.
Now that the placenta was out and had been looked over for completeness, we got us both back to bed, placed the placenta in a bowl, and got out the things for a cord burning. The kids and Laura were summoned back into the room and the midwife took her leave. Tim prayed over Agatha and thanked God for the placenta and the work it did to help her grow. The beeswax candles were lit, and each of oldest children held one over the handcrafted wooden box. I held and nursed Agatha as we waited the 15-20 minutes it takes for the cord to burn through. It slowed everything down again, brought the energy of the space back to sacred and mindful bliss. Everything felt right with the world. My work was done, our baby girl was now completely separated, her own being, and our family was complete and in unity.
Tim and the kids each took a turn holding her after her cord was severed. All that was left after that was to wrap up some odds and ends of birth laundry, birth trash, a placenta smoothie, a diaper for Agatha, etc. Then our birth team took their leave (about 11:30 pm). It took a while to get the kids to go to bed, but eventually, everyone settled into their respective beds. I didn’t sleep. I was too overjoyed and hyper-vigilant over this tiny new human on my chest to get much sleep at all. Besides, she was fussy that first night. But it didn’t matter. She was and is worth it all.
This is a simple factual telling. The myriad layers of meaning-making and emotional processing of this experience could probably be an completely other long blog post. And perhaps that’s coming another day, but not just yet. Thank you for reading.
Brooke Collier is a holistic doula, christian birthkeeper, and birth photographer serving Grand rapids, MI and West Michigan and offering childbirth education around the world.
©Template by roselyncarr // ©photography by brooke collier // 2024 all rights reserved