7:30 this morning–a new baby boy

What an amazing experience.  Okay,  Let me back up.  I was updating all along yesterday about witnessing a birth of a first-time mom.  Things stalled until I got a phone call from the doula last night at 9 pm.  “We’re still moving forward with a natural birth in the hospital.” 

“Okay.  I’m on my way.”  I jumped in the shower, called my husband who was boarding a train home to Long Island from New York City.  My parents had settled in for the night — no babysitting, there.  I waited.

I drove out to the hospital, got there around 11:30 pm.  The room was dark, cool and Enya music played.   J was comfortable and greeted me graciously and rather cheerfully in between contractions, meaning she wasn’t that far along; between 3-4 centimeters.  I have three children, I knew what was coming and hoped for J that it would be better and different than what I went through.  Each birth should be the mom’s own experience.   Blessings!

J’s doula Lisa, one of our board members, was incredible.  I didn’t have a doula and missed out.  A doula, aside from your husband, is truly your best friend, navigator, mother, nurse, witness, extra arms, extra love and literally the drumbeat of the birth.  Lisa guided J through the wee hours of the morning.  It was awe-inspiring, the natural creative process that took twists and turns and stalled out and revved up.    There was not a breath that J took that Lisa didn’t help her through for 7 straight hours.  I never saw anything like it.  There was a rhythm to it.  J wanted no drugs.  She bore down and labored through from 10 am yesterday morning, resting when she could and delivered her son 7:30 this morning.  Only when she hit 7 centimeters did she take a little staydol to help her sleep between contractions.  She was strong, focused and amazing. 

I can’t help but compare and believe me birthing a child is never about a contest.  Each birth is sacred, special and here at MEW we strive to share ideas and refer wonderful health care professionals to create the healthiest birth for the mother and child.  But for all three of my births, by the time I hit 4 centimeters, I had an epidural.

J weathered the storm solo and I was so impressed with her courage, stamina integrity and focus.  Kudos to her husband, too who stood by her side with every single contraction pumping her up, “You can do it, breathe.”  

The large window backlit the room.  They raised the bed higher and J pushed, as women gathered ’round her–nurses in scrubs, Lisa the doula and Marie the midwife.   The pale powdery blue sky outlined her beautiful silhouette and dark hair billowing around the pillow.  She wasn’t more than 30 years old.  J moaned the birth song of patient frustration and exclaimed Yaaaah as her son was released into the world joyously.   

Blessings to J, her husband and the baby.  And of course, to doula Lisa Inglese.  Bravo.

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