A Remarkable Birth

What a night.
And a day.

On my way to the hospital,
I looked west to see the last rays of the sun
hitting the backside of Pikes Peak--
it is always so beautiful.
No matter how many times
I look,
it is always different
always remarkable.

That beautifully describes the miracle of birth...
always different
always remarkable.

The young couple that invited me to be their doula
is a couple we've known for quite some time.
Papa M. is a young man that won our hearts
as a dear friend to our family
about eight years ago or more.
He remembers when The Caboose was still
in diapers.
When he was ready to pop the question to his lovely girlfriend-at-the-time, Momma A.
he was kind enough to let us know
and then brought her over to meet all of us,
and that's when we all came to know and love her as well.

My children go out into the world and bring home some remarkable people
whom we are grateful to know and love having in our lives.

So I was thinking about this as I drove to the hospital,
and listening to a lovely instrumental hymns cd--
of course, I got all choked up too.
I do that.
Alot.
But even moreso when I am on my way
to participate in a miracle.

Papa M. and Momma A.'s birth plan was taking a detour
as her medical diagnosis changed and dictated
a planned induction.
Dr. B prescribed cytotec to get labor going--
in increments of 3-4 hours of one-fourth dose
at a time.
This was going to be a long night, I knew that.
After the first dose was administered,
and we saw that Momma A.'s body was handling it very calmly,
I decided to go home for a few hours
so we could all get some rest,
and have Papa M. call me after the next two doses were given.
Also, the hospital waiting room in the L&D area
was packed full of other patient's relatives--
moms, dads, kids, granmas and granpas, aunts and uncles,
friends, grocers, classmates, fb friends of friends--
and there was nowhere for me to rest there.
Can I just say,
I don't understand this practice?
I could write a whole other blog about that topic alone.
Bottom line,
until Mom has delivered baby,
and both are in excellent medical condition,
noone is going to be let in the labor and delivery room--
and if they are,
it's going to be less than a minute.
So wait at home until you get the invitation to
"come and see", okay?
Anyway,
because there was nowhere for me to sit and rest,
I went home.

Four hours later,
I was back and the waiting room was empty.
Momma A. was awake and ready to walk.
So we cruised the halls,
sat on the birth ball,
etc.
Momma A. was making progress,
but here's what's so remarkable about this--
she didn't feel like she was in labor.
She felt no pain whatsoever.
She was the picture of calm.
She wasn't meditating,
or medi-cated,
she wasn't doing breathing or visualization exercises--
nuthin'.
Her pain receptors just didn't react to the contractions of her uterus.

Even the nurses were amazed.
According to the monitoring screen,
Momma A.'s contracting uterus was working very hard,
her tummy was as hard as a basketball,
and yet she only felt a little tightening.
No kidding!

I told her she was the envy of every mother
I've ever known
and noone would ever want to how effortless her labor was!
Truly, up until she was nearly 6-7 cms,
she felt very little discomfort.

At that point,
she did begin to feel her body working,'
and thus began a turn in her remarkable labor--
her labor quickly became the labor we all know.
It had been over a dozen hours since she'd been admitted
and she. was. tired.
And when you're a tired, laboring momma-to-be,
every thing is harder.
Her sweet Papa M. was attentive in every way--
stroking her back,
massaging her shoulders,
whsipering good and kind things in her ears...
he couldn't have been any better.
Whatever she needed or wanted,
he freely gave.
Just as I knew he would.
Yes, he is just that good.

We also had two fabulous attending nurses, Renee and Katie,
whom we all appreciated and valued their knowledge and skills
as they offered very generously.

Each of us were there to support Momma A.
in every second of every minute
as much as we could.
Finally, it was time to push!
Momma A. was very tired--
she wondered outloud if she could finish--
I assured her that she would and did have the energy to go the distance,
she just had to push past the negative thoughts!
After an hour and half of many many good pushes,
a beautiful seven-pound beauty was born!
Tiny delicate fingers,
sweet ruby lips,
dark wisps of hair,
and a cry that makes you smile your biggest smile
and cute baby toes that make you giggle!

It was a beautiful, classic birth moment--
laughter, cheers and many smiley-tears!

As Papa M. took his place at the "broiler pan" with baby G.--
Momma A. looked up at me and said,
"I can't believe I did it."

~~~~
Nearly an hour later,
the placenta had still not presented,
and after a few dramatic attempts to push it out
were made,
Dr. B took Momma A. into the OR,
where she was put under and the placenta was manually removed.
This was noone's fault,
it was simply a human body thing,
and we are so grateful for the quick response of the medical team.

Within an hour,
Momma A. was back in the same room with us
while Papa M. was in the nursery bathing Baby G.
Prayers and hugs were offered and received
and before I knew it,
their families were ooh-ing and awe-ing at the nursery window,
and it was time for me to leave my post.

~~~~
I cast my eyes to the West and over to my snow-spotted Pikes Peak...

life is so so very remarkable.
Women are so much stronger than we think we are...
birth shows us that--
no matter how it goes--
we learn how very remarkable WE are.