Birth Story

As more time passes, I realize the story of Avi's birth is at once remarkable and ordinary, but it will always be special to me. Almost nine weeks afterward, I still find it difficult to wrap my brain around the reality of what happened--that enormous baby boy came out of me? I pushed him out? And as so much of my labor occurred at home, I have reminders of my experience surrrounding me, which is good and sometimes overwhelming. I have written much of this down in my journal so as not to forget, but I'll try to do it again here . . .

For over a week before Avi was born, I'd been having contractions. So convinced was I that it was the real thing, Leeor took his leave from work . . . and then we spent a week together, waiting. In retrospect, we realize how special that time was for us.

On Friday, February 8, 2008, I woke up feeling really terrible. I was having some contractions. I got up to eat a bowl of cereal and then returned to bed. I idly kept track of a few contractions. They were all over the place. I fell back asleep for a few hours and arose to take a bath. Leeor was watching movies. I told him I was having some contractions. We both felt nonplussed about it, but again, in hindsight, somehow things felt different to me.

Around 1:30 PM, my contractions started getting a little more regular, sometimes 5 minutes apart. We remained unimpressed, but we called Becca, our doula, anyway. She said we should check in with each other on the hour. As she had been through what she'd sweetly called "pre-pre-labor" with us for a week, she was pretty nonplussed, as well.

Itay, Leeor's brother, came over around 2PM to give me an acupuncture treatment. His purpose was twofold--he wanted to alleviate my sciatic pain, and also possibly speed up my labor. He wasn't convinced that the latter would happen, but he had treated one other pregnant woman in this way, and she gave birth the following day. At this point, my contractions were increasing in intensity. Leeor was doing what he referred to as his version of boiling water; he was photographing a still life piece inspired by the flowers his office had sent to congratulate us on the birth that hadn't quite happened yet. I think we both weren't sure whether to get excited, although, I was really starting to feel some pain in the contractions.

At first, I told Itay that I was finding my yoga/meditation practice helpful during the contractions. In particular, I was thinking about a former teacher, Rick, who had taught me some mindfulness meditation techniques. I honestly felt curious and fascinated by each contraction and tried to just observe it without tensing up. This curiosity would soon end as the contractions started coming faster and stronger. I no longer wanted to sit in my rocking chair. I needed to get on the floor.

I crouched on all fours, in the familiar "cat/cow" yoga position. I put pillows under my knees. I rocked back and forth during each contraction, like a baby learning how to crawl. Leeor and Itay put pressure on my lower back. Leeor encouraged me and soothed me. I kept having to go to the bathroom--it felt like every 5 minutes. Mid-contraction, I would suddenly rise, and Leeor would help me into the bathroom. There, I would brace myself against the sink. At this point, it was around 5 PM, and Becca wondered if she should come over. We told her she should eat some dinner first, as we imagined a very long night ahead of us. I said aloud that I understood why a lot of women want pain relief. It hurt!

I sat cross-legged during breaks from contractions, but these breaks were fewer and fewer. I decided to get into the shower. This was much harder than I thought, as my contractions were rolling through me and I found it nearly impossible to wash myself. Leeor helped me get dressed and sweetly put lotion on my face. I felt chilled as I settled back into my routine on the living room floor. I suddenly wanted Becca to be there. She arrived shortly thereafter.

I cried when I saw her and we hugged, which felt so comforting to me. She was so calm and reassuring. She said, "I think you're having a baby tonight," which, of course, just made me cry harder. As quickly as I felt chilled, I was sweating and tearing off my layers. Becca checked Avi's heartbeat; he sounded great. She took over giving me pressure on my back while Leeor and Itay decided to take on another project--the glass on the bathroom door was cracked and starting to come out; they decided to try to take it out in an effort to make it less dangerous. Leeor would check in on me every few minutes and encourage me. Then I needed to return to the bathroom.

Things really started moving there. I sat on the toilet for awhile. I felt so strange in my body. The only way I can attempt to describe it is by comparing the sensation to a strong, unpleasant hallucinogenic drug trip that you know you can do nothing about except wait for it to end. My impulses were strong and urgent. I needed to widen my stance and my pants were in the way, so I tore them off. It's true that modesty goes out the window--I just didn't care about anything other than getting through each contraction. There was a lot of blood in the toilet--this freaked me out. Becca reassured me that it was normal. I felt something shoot out of me and wondered if we should go to the hospital. I didn't say it aloud--what did I know? I think I had my first push then but didn't know what it was. It was like a convulsion through my body that I couldn't stop.

Becca suggested I get into the tub. Leeor was with me. I felt really out of it. I had another push in the tub, but still didn't know what it was. I flung myself back and Becca caught my head before it hit the faucet. She wanted me to get out so she could check my cervix (she's also a nurse/midwife). Leeor helped me to lie down and Becca began her exam. I looked at her face; she looked nervous. I told myself not to freak out. When she spoke, it was with an effort to stay calm. "Well, you're fully dilated, and I just touched his head, so we need to go. Now."

Things after that are blurry. Leeor telling Itay to grab our stuff and follow us. Leeor and Becca pulling clothes on me, helping out the door, down the stairs, into the car. Trying to get the carseat out so I could lie down, not being able to, so I just put my feet on top of it.

That crazy car ride!! Leeor doing his best to drive carefully though I'm sure he was frantic. Becca telling me not to push--my god, that felt impossible, so I grunted and clutched the headrest and summoned all my strength NOT to push and kept asking, "How much longer?" as the night lights of the city whizzed past. "Two more minutes," Becca said, just as I saw the big buildings of UCSF out the window and knew she was lying.

As out of it as I was, I still maintained a shred of my contolling self--I advised Leeor about the route, reminding him that Stanyan didn't go all the way through to California--and I've never wanted to arrive someplace more than I wanted to arrive at CPMC, to feel the incredible relief of letting the baby come out instead of desperately trying to hold him in.

A lifetime later, we finally arrived, only to be re-routed to another entrance. I remember wailing, "Noooo!" and getting back in the car. Becca and Leeor basically carried me inside, where the skeptical woman at reception was waiting. We lied and told her Becca was not our doula (due to a ridiculous no-doula policy) but insisted I was in active labor. I pre-registered!" I said breathlessly, only to be mey with a dubious look. "First baby?" she asked.

Fortunately, I caught the eye of some passing nurses who immediately procured a wheelchair and we began to move quickly upstairs to a labor room. Flourescent lights, wood floors, beeping monitors, an elevator ride and we arrived at the room. Everything happened at lightning speed. My clothes were ripped off and a gown placed on my naked body. I knew I'd had a bowel movement in the car (all that pushing!) and Becca kindly asked if she could toss my underwear into the garbage--a ver funny moment in the midst of so much intensity.

I sensed the drama amongst the hospital staff. After working in a hospital, I get it. These kind of situations make work interesting. They were shocked by me. No epidural? They grabbed a doctor and suddenly my feet were in stirrups. A kindly Asian man smiled at me, "Baby has a lot of hair!" he exclaimed. So many people and voices shouting instructions; I felt a little lost and missed the peace we'd had at home. I looked to Leeor and focused on his voice. A sudden sharp pain--Becca said the doctor was giving me a shot in my perineum--what??? I asked him to take it out; it was a local anesthetic.

Everyone told me to push, then to stop. It felt overwhelming to have so many people shouting instructions. I felt confused until I looked at Leeor. He was crying. The head was out. One more push, and I just couldn't. The nurse, Monique, told me to cough. Good idea! Out came Avi and he was being handed straight to me. As he landed on my bare chest, warm and loud and wonderful, my only thought was, it's so worth it, and I would do it all over again.