Homebirth in a Hot Tub

"Just as a woman's heart knows how and when to pump, her lungs to inhale, and her hand to pull back from fire, so she knows when and how to give birth." Virginia Di Or

Homebirth in a Hot Tub By Gerrie Biegner My husband and I were thrilled and surprised to find a midwife in our area. We knew we wanted a homebirth from the start. She assured us that I was a good candidate despite what the medical establishment had to say about me being high-risk: age, medical history, etc.. The baby was in excellent condition throughout the pregnancy and I had great expectations about the actual delivery. I read a lot of books, I practiced meditation, and I considered all the possible positions I could use. I was prepared. So I thought . . . My water broke at five a.m.. It was not a torrent, but a slow leak. The first surprise was how slippery amniotic fluid was as I fell on my butt on the way to the bathroom. My birth started out with me crying like a child on the floor and my sleepy husband wondering what in the world was going on. I knew I was supposed to try and get rest, but I could not. After three hours of starting ten projects and finishing none of them I woke my husband for some company. The contractions were ten minutes apart.

I find the word contractions misleading. I had read a book that referred to them as "rushes" so as to avoid any negative connotations. I cannot say that describes it either. For me, it was a pulling apart against great resistance. When I was a child I had a crooked tooth. My uncle was a dentist and agreed to fix it, but would never waste the money on novocaine for a family member. He put a vise between my two teeth and cranked it down enough so that he could shave the crooked one. It was more like that than anything else, only deeper inside me. And my body was the vise as well as the part being opened.

The second surprise was how short the actual contraction really was. Which was a very good thing because in the grip of it I was at a complete loss at to what to do. Breathe? Walk? Lean over? I had imagined leaning on my husband and us rocking together to soothe the pain. But over and over again the words out of my mouth were, "Don't touch me!" I heard them before I knew I was saying them. I believed that my body would take over. Twenty four hours later, I was having my doubts.

The midwife and the doula had stopped by in the morning and the afternoon of the first day and I stayed at ten minutes apart. That evening they put primrose oil on my cervix which had not dilated. I took blue and black cohosh essences. I did not dilate. I stayed at ten minutes apart. I kept leaking fluid. I drank a lot to
replace it. I walked. I breathed. I prayed. I did not dilate. I stayed at ten
minutes apart. And the midwife grew more anxious by that night. Our state has a
guideline of eighteen hours to be in active labor from the water breaking. Surprise number three. I had read of women who leaked for longer than that, but my midwife was risking her license. Did I say I leaked amniotic fluid? I'm sorrry, I'm not a trained professional and it wasn't tested.I probably just peed on myself . . .

All night I slept only between contractions. At each one I got up and walked. I am
blessed that my husband was so strong and that I never doubted his ability to stay with me through the whole experience. My midwife came by in the morning. I had not dilated. I was ten minutes apart. Surprise number four, my body was not working and I might end up at the hospital. Panic. I felt like a failure and that if I went to the hospital all my hopes for this birth would be lost. I knew I could never relax through the rest of it in that environment. (Oh God! the rest of it! It would get worse!) Plus, without insurance we would be in debt for a very long time. I cried that my baby would have no chance of going to college. I cried that I could not do this thing that women have done for thousands of years. I cried that my brain had sabotaged my body. I felt like a failure.

Then the doula asked me if I had ever had a cervical biopsy. Why, yes.
Apparently,many women who have had one also have great diffuculty with dilation. Surprise number five. I was the only one surprised that when it was done no one had mentioned this as a possible consequence. Then my midwife said, "Just stop trying. Stop trying to go into labor." She left and I just sat on the couch and watched something I can't remember on tv. Fifteen minutes later, something changed. Things started rushing; rushing with energy and rushing with speed. I wasn't pulling open, I was yanking. We decided to be sure the contractions were closer together before calling the midwife again.

By noon I threw up. I knew this was a sign of transition. By one a'clock the
contractions were five minutes apart. We called the doula first as she lived nearby. By the time she got here I was begging to go in the tub. I had heard friends say how it had helped them, and we lucked out that the weather had been warm enough to heat our outdoor jacuzzi. I didn't so much think of going in the tub, but I found myself looking at it very obsessively. We called the midwife and she said yes. At this point, the contractions are coming one on top of the other. And as everyone had feared, I was getting tired before the part where I would most need my strength. When I got in that tub - bliss. Oh yes, it was the definiton of bliss. All the weight, all the strain, all the tension left my body and for five glorious minutes I was thrilled to be alive in the sunshine.

The urge to push. Surprise number six was how inadequitely that phrase describes what happens. I am not sure I can do any better, but for me this is where the body really took over. I have a limited memory of the events around me and almost none of what I said, but I am quite sure (unike what I have been told) that I will never forget that feeling. A tunnel you could drive a truck through opened inside me and I felt hollow and connected to something eternal. Then I felt the baby's head and all thought left me as I roared in time with the pushing. You might have heard me; where do you live? Three pushes and the baby came into my husband's hands. He put the light blue bundle on my chest and said, "It's a girl, honey."

Surprise number seven - I had been sure it was a boy. Even had many dreams that it was so. But Katie came out perfect and pinked up into a little rosebud. The
otherworldy feeling turned into a glow that encompassed everyone in the house. I barely noticed the stitches. And it was so lovely to be able to relax in my own home with our new family. I spent all night being grateful and amazed, thrilled that there had been nothing sterile or abrasive in the biggest change my husband and I would ever know. From the start, our child was surrounded by love and family, warmth and gladness to have her here with us. I would not change a thing if I could.

So, thirty four hours of labor comes to a close. And a lifetime of raising a child
begins. All the reading, discussion and research could not have prepared me. There is no way to know what will happen, no way to get it "right." No plan could have been laid and I am glad I had many options before me. I think of all the preparation the same way Buddha described the necessity of discipline to reach Nirvana: "Not with it, not without it." Now, if I had just read more during pregnancy about how to actually care for a baby . . . .

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