Hearing My Birth Song | Home Water Birth | Jacksonville Community Midwives

Birth photographer: Dallas Arthur Birth Stories & Support
Midwives: Jacksonville Community Midwives
Doula: Rebecca McKinney, A Hand to Hold Doula Services

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July 4th, 2021. 11 days overdue I began to wonder if I would ever give birth. I was bigger than I had ever been, it was getting increasingly harder to move or breathe and my window for a homebirth was closing. I had to be in labor by July 7th, otherwise I would have to go into a hospital to deliver. That day I spent few hours at the Mayport beach, where onlookers actually pointed at me like some kind of sideshow, and two different women gave me unsolicited advice and couldn’t believe that I was “allowed” to still be pregnant. Allowed. That evening Jordan and I drove up to the top floor of the St. Vincent’s Hospital parking lot, with a sleeping toddler in the car, to get a glimpse of some far away fireworks happening downtown. There was no way I was walking anywhere, I could hardly move and was feeling somewhat resigned to my state.

I hoped and wished quietly to myself that I wouldn’t have to deliver at that hospital whose parking lot we sat in. I had been to that hospital a few days before for an ultrasound and was told that I had a big baby. Sure I thought, maybe big by your standards. The technician was a tiny man. What did he know.

We got home from the fireworks and I drank the labor-inducing bark tincture that the midwives had given me. I went to sleep. In the night I woke up with some minimal cramping, I thought nothing of it and went back to sleep.

Morning came too soon and I still felt a little crampy. My sweet toddler climbed into bed with me and rested her head on my big belly. I suddenly burst into tears. Was this it? We held it each other and she told me I would be ok, her little hands cupping my face. I told her I was just a little nervous and that her baby sister was coming soon. I was also weeping as I held her thinking that these might be our last moments together, as just as us. My only child.

A membrane sweep later I was about to enter labor land…a place where time and space are blurred and you become the animal that you are. A primal, birthing creature. I remember eating a sandwich and throwing up, and frantically cleaning, occasionally having to stop because of the wave of a contraction coming over me. I felt like I probably looked like someone out of the movies, the pregnant woman in labor having the little Hollywood contractions and going about their day. I still wasn’t entirely convinced this was the real deal. My last labor had required rounds of castor oil and membrane sweeps…it hadn’t just “come on” like this.

My partner called his parents to fetch our child and sent away the dogs. He called the doula (Rebecca), and downloaded the contraction app to time the contractions. I remember kind of crawling, reluctantly, into the bath. I wanted to continue to clean. Everything had to be spotless. One downside of the homebirth is that I wanted everything “hospital clean,” in my house. I was nesting, HARD.

In the bath I remember watching the app and timing the contractions, this was the real deal, even if I didn’t know it yet. The baby was on her way. But I still was not completely convinced. I remember my mother-in-law stepping into the bathroom and seeing me writhing in the tub. A trained labor and delivery nurse, she talked me through the contractions and taught me how to breathe. In through my nose and out through my mouth, slowly counting and focusing on a spot on the wall. I used this technique for the rest of the labor. Often staring at Rebecca’s little round silver necklace with a wave on it, as a focus point.

In the background my partner was coordinating things, calling the midwives, and Dallas our photographer. At some point my doula Rebecca showed up and sent my mother-in-law away. I didn’t want her to leave me, but I was also happy that she did.

Out of the bath I saw Dallas in my bedroom.

“Uh oh. Does this really mean it’s happening?” I thought to myself. I felt slightly awkward, not wanting to inconvenience anyone and also not totally ready for the ride yet. But the ride had started. I was well on my way, whether I realized it or not. I had a membrane sweep around 11AM…I got out of the bath around 4PM…maybe? Midwife Christy showed up around 7PM, though I felt like she hadn’t really left since the morning. Labor is a funny thing, that you can be hyper aware and also unaware all at the same time.

I remember being semi-conscious of Dallas photographing me in the door way of my bathroom, and retreating to my bedroom after a contraction and feeling relieved that she was there. Safe with her there. She was present and encouraging but would also blend into the background and give me my space. I tried to sit on the birthing ball and instantly felt the wave of a surge coming, “Woah, I’m not sure if I want to sit on that or not.” “It’s like that sometimes.” She said reassuringly. I smiled to myself. I needed the confirmation. She put me at ease.

For a moment things seemed to let up, and I found myself on my bed laughing with my partner and talking to my doula (and friend), Rebecca. I wanted to know how long this was going to last (like anyone knew) and I got the reassurance that it wouldn’t be long, shorter than last time. My last labor started on a Thursday and I gave birth Saturday afternoon, at 1:27PM.

Rebecca busted out some clary sage essential oil, or at least I thought she did. Dallas, also a doula, had brought the sage. How lucky was I? To have two doulas at my side. I instantly regretted agreeing to let Rebecca rub sage on my belly, the smell was powerful and my contractions seemed to pick up (I guess that was the point).

I didn’t want to complain but it was almost to the point of being sickening. I didn’t want sounds or smells or much of anything. I wanted to be sensory deprived. I occasionally wondered if I should have gone to get an epidural. NO. This is what I wanted it. Stick with the plan.

How long I was upstairs is beyond me. I listened to a guided meditation on Rebecca’s phone and was absolutely hypnotized. Never have I ever been so completely taken away from reality with a meditation as I had with this one. Stronger than drugs. Another surge. Baby is coming. Doing my breathing and trying to visualize a baby coming down, a flower opening. Not going to vision a white hot iron searing my insides that I kept seeing last time. This was a head game, and I was on top of it.

I remember being encouraged by someone to get up, to go downstairs and that the birth tub was ready. Getting up and walking seemed to move things along. I don’t remember walking downstairs. Downstairs I walked into the birth room, it was like a dream, beautiful. My partner had restrung tapestries, fairy lights and set out my favorite crystals. It was very aesthetically pleasing. I was so touched by his thoughtful work.

Into the tub I went…and it was warmer than I expected, much to my delight.

From there it was a blur. In and out of the tub. On the toilet at some point, this hurt. Did I have to poo? Or was that the baby’s head? I wasn’t really sure. There was a lot of pressure. It was intense. Pain was not in my vocabulary that night, just pressure.

The midwife checked me on the couch, water started gushing out…the outside sack was broken. Hopefully that meant we were close.

Back into the tub in the sunroom. Was it nighttime? Was it raining? I was faintly aware. The door to outside was opened while water was being scooped out of the tub to be refilled with hotter water. I could hear the summer rain. I was hot. I was cold. I was feeling extremes.

I heard myself let out a load moan. I recognized it. Was this my birth song? And again I heard it. It was coming from deep down within me. I was producing it, although I was not controlling it and I recognized it from my first birth.

And then, the aggressive uncontrolled grunt. Urge to push had arrived. Already? Could this be happening. UGH! Again. Yes it was. Here we go. I could feel the baby coming down. It was all happening very quickly now. My partner was there and the doulas and the midwives. I closed my eyes tightly. Here it was. First her head, and then her shoulders, but she was stuck momentarily. I remember screaming to Christy to pull her head and Christy telling me I had to push and I was saying I couldn’t and she was saying “You have to.”

Midwife Christy said “head and shoulders are out,” I just heard head and shoulders and thought she was stuck. What I didn’t realize was that she was stuck at the abdomen and that her umbilical cord was looped around her neck a few times. I took a deep breath and pushed with all my might. Christy spun her around under water like some kind of magician and out of the water and into my arms was my new baby.

I stared at her in wonder and disbelief. Christy leaned in and said “I know you wanted hands off but can I help get her started?” “Yes, of course” I responded. The baby was a little stunned and a little floppy. I was completely calm. I could see my baby’s eyes were alert. Her hands were moving and her face was not discolored. After prepping myself by watching hundreds of homebirths online, this didn’t look unusual to me. Christy gave her a rub and put a suction device on her face and quickly handed her back me. She had oxygen in a clear tube with an open end with little prongs coming off it that she put in the vicinity of the baby’s face. There was a little cry and everyone seemed relieved…Though for some reason I hadn’t really been worried. I knew she was fine. We were fine. We did it.

My poor partner looked distressed up until the baby cried, he may have actually been holding his breath until he saw her take hers. Tears of happiness and relief poured from his face and I felt blissful.

And then another contraction hit. Not again. Soon after the placenta was born, though I don’t really remember it coming out, I do suddenly remember it being in a bowl and examining it and the cord.

We Facetimed my parents, who picked up immediately, and showed them our new prize. A big, beautiful blinking baby. Bigger than I could have ever imagined, with a crease across her nose. “That happens when they are over 9lbs, they get the nose crease,” I remember hearing someone say.

9lb 5oz, we later learned. Born at 9:18PM.

The tiny technician at the hospital had been right, she was a big baby, by anyone’s standards.