Sunday, 05 July 2009

• Attending a Birth, An Honor and Blessing

   by Mama Seahorse
  

  
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  Recently, a friend of mine (JJ) had a baby.  She was only married for a few short months when she and her husband found out they were expecting.  It was a surprise, but they handled it well, and took no time at all to ask me, and my very best friend, JS, to attend the birth.  JS is a doula, and has been for several years.  Me... I'm a massage therapist, and felt underqualified to attend the birth, but incredibly honored to have been asked to be a part of such a special moment in this family's life.  I have known JJ since highschool and attended her wedding (on my birthday!), and now was attending the birth of her first child.

  The phone call came on a Friday.  She thought she might be in labor, stand by.  I was at work.  JS came to meet me after work and we had coffee.  No more phone calls, so we went home.  Saturday morning I had to work until 4pm, and I got the call to head over there when I was done.  My bag had been packed and in my car in anticipation and so I went straight to JJ's house from work that day.  When I arrived, she was smiling and greeted me warmly.  I remember thinking, Okay, well, she's too happy to be in active labor, so we are talking about early first stage labor here.  I watched her handle a few contractions, and the doula (JS) suggested eating and resting.  That day was a waiting game.  Contractions ebbed and flowed, at times being more frequent and at times spacing out.  We had brownies, and other food.  By evening her contractions were intensifying and she got into a bath.  It still wasn't time to head to the hospital - though I was wishing we could have planned a home birth.  JJ and her husband were so comfortable, they just seemed like the home birth type.

  After the bath, contractions waned again.  And JS, myself, and the official photographer (D) settled in for what could have been a long night.  Curled up on the couches together, the three of us fell asleep in the livingroom as the couple tried to get some rest in their bedroom.  When I awoke and saw the sun shining through the windows, I knew this labor was going to have some staying power.  Sunday morning.  We took a stroll through the neighborhood to the local coffee shop and had pastries and coffee, pausing here and there to accomodate JJ for a contraction or two.  We strolled back in the beautiful spring sunshine of Chicago.  Around lunch I had to leave again for just 4 hours to head to work.  I hated to leave.  I had a feeling things would pick up when I did.  Just before I left, I made my hands useful giving JJ a massage to help relax her and it turned out the massage helped her with contractions.

  When I drove back there from work (my hubby was very supportive even though I hadn't seen my family since Friday night at this point), I was in a rush, parking the car and racing to their front door.  JS had told me they'd leave for the hospital as soon as I arrived.  JJ had been asking for me - for my hands, and I went back to being hands-on, happy that I was useful.

  Arriving at the hospital was quite the ordeal.  And I got a ticket for going through a yellow light, that apparently turned red while I was mid-intersection.  The addition of the hospital staff to our little birthing support group required some adjustment mainly because the hospital staff didn't understand what we were doing.  But JJ insisted that her doula and her massage therapist were required, and so we stayed in the room with her (having to leave the photographer out) for the rest of the time.  I was hands-on with the laboring mother for the rest of the time - literally.  Helping her use the bathroom as needed, change positions, anything.  My hands were on her, rarely lifting from her skin, as she labored and focused on having that child.  I had never expected to be so involved, and I was so honored and in awe of being able to be so close to every aspect of this birth. 

  The baby was finally born on Monday morning at around 7:50am, after 30-something hours of my time, and I think over 40 hours of JS's time with JJ.  A beautiful baby boy, perfect in every way.  And I went into a nearby bathroom and wept.  Not just crying with tears coming down my face, I WEPT.  Sobbing and heaving and liquid pouring down all aspects of my face.

  When I returned from the bathroom, JS looked at me and said, "Did you go have a cry?"  I nodded.  She nodded back to me, understanding.  "How do you DO this?" I asked her incredulously.  This being her profession, she attends births all the time.  I had no idea how wrapped up in this I would be, how emotional it would be, as if I was having a child too all over again.  The emotional release that I experienced afterwards was much like I remember feeling when I was in labor myself. 

  My friend looked at me and said, "You are practically a pro now!  I am so proud of you!  You did amazing!"  encouraging me.  Encouragement is her second language.

  And now... in another month, I will be the host for another birth.  A friend will be using our home as the stage for the birth of her first baby.  And I get to be involved again in such an incredible moment.  What an honor and a blessing!

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