The birth of Julia, part I (of a very long story)

3:58 am
I woke to feel my abdominal muscles contract. My belly felt hard, rigid. Simultaneously I felt cramping low in my pelvis. I rolled over to look at the clock, and closed my eyes. One minute. Two minutes. Four minutes. Six minutes and my belly tightened once more. Another six minutes passed and again my muscles contracted. I rubbed Craig’s arm, and he muffled, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m in labor.”

He made a move to get up, and I told him to lie down. This was just the beginning. Every five to six minutes another contraction would start. They lasted for 45 seconds or so. I greeted each one with relief. My baby was coming. This was proof.

The mixture of excitement and discomfort caused me to rise. I took a shower and went downstairs. It was 5 am. I woke my sister with the news, and she jumped from her bed, an inflatable mattress on the living room floor, ready to assist me. “No, no,” I told her “it’s just started. Go back to sleep.” Of course she couldn’t sleep either, but she lied down to rest her eyes a bit longer.

I went to the computer, and sent an email to my friend, Ani. She was my closest local friend, and I wanted her to know that the time had finally come. I sent some other emails and paid bills. I wanted to tie up any remaining loose ends.

7:15 am
I heard my parents talking to Grace with quiet voices in the guest bedroom. Grace was perched on my mother’s side of the bed. I opened the door and said, “I’m in labor,” and my mom and dad cheered.

We went about our normal morning routine: breakfast, smoothie, and newspaper. Around 9:30 am Craig and I decided to take a walk around campus to move the baby along. It was still cool; though the cloudless sky ensured summer-like heat would come as the day progressed. We walked slowly around the front of campus, pausing with my contractions so I could drink water and rest. We sat on a bench in front of psychology department building, and I noticed a slight but significant increase in the duration and pain of my contractions. “We should get home soon,” I told Craig.

On the walk home, we ran into a couple of neighbors relaxing on a porch swing. “When’s that baby going to come?” one yelled across the street. “Today,” I replied. Someone told a joke about the baby being born on race day for the Indianapolis 500. Being an Indy native Craig had already teased me that if the baby were a girl, we should name her Danica.

I was hot and sweaty by the time we reached our home, so I opted to take another shower and relax in our bedroom. After the shower I lied down on our bed, rubbing my abdomen, and breathing through each contraction. I concentrated on keeping my mind and body still. I felt so much love for this child already, and I welcomed each contraction joyfully, willing my body to contract harder and more frequently.

10:45 am
The contractions were becoming increasingly painful. I needed help to manage the pain and to keep me centered, so I went downstairs to get Craig. While Craig prepared some food for me, I chatted with my parents. Grace played nearby on the living room rug. With each contraction I was forced to stop talking, and the room fell silent as my family watched me. After seeing my face grimace with pain my mom suggested that they take Grace out to lunch, and I agreed.

By the time Craig and I returned to our bedroom my labor had intensified. Now it was necessary to utilize the various techniques we had been taught in our natural childbirth class. During the brief periods of rest I ate my lunch and drank water. I feared becoming dehydrated during labor, so I consumed liter upon liter of liquid. Dehydration quickly leads to labor complications, and I wanted to eliminate that possibility altogether.

12:10 pm
Craig called my midwife, Jeri, to let her know that I was in labor, contracting every four to five minutes for one minute in duration. Between contractions I sat in a glider to calm myself, take a drink, and eat a grape. With the first sign of muscle tightening I stood and wrapped my arms around Craig’s neck. While I hung from his body, the baby’s head pushed downward with incredible force. “I don’t think I can do this,” I told him. “You are doing it. You’re doing a great job. I know you can do it.”

I should have remembered that expressions of defeat often indicate that a woman is beginning transition, the most difficult stage of labor.

1:50 pm
“I think I should take a bath. Maybe that will help ease the pain.” Craig drew me a bath and went downstairs to make me a milkshake. I climbed into the tub, and another contraction hit. This one was unlike any other. The pain was searing. It made me want to jump out of my skin. I called for Craig, but he was too far to hear me. Two minutes passed and another contraction. I couldn’t get out of the tub. Two more minutes more and another contraction. I cried for Craig. He still couldn’t hear me.

He finally arrived with milkshake in hand. He had been held up by the return of my parents, sister, and Grace from lunch. He gave me the shake, and I took a drink. I was feeling fatigued. My reserves were starting to deplete, and I continued to contract every two minutes or so. It was clear that the bath was providing little if any comfort, so he helped me to get out.

The bathroom was steamy and hot, but I felt the need to remain enclosed in that space. Craig helped me to get partially dressed with a bra and maternity top. Then things started to get a little dicey.