I am such a whirlwind of emotion, and so much has happened that I'm not sure how to write this entry, where to start, or what to say. So I'm just going to do as I usually do: put my fingers on the keys and start typing.
I am going to tell the story of Sienna's birth. Saturday night, my son and I were watching movies and playing with Legos. I had been having the worst gas ever in the history of mankind (sorry, TMI) throughout the day and it wasn't until about 10:30 that I realized I was feeling more than just gas cramps -- I was having regular contractions. I also noticed some blood when I went to the bathroom and I was concerned, so I asked my mom if she thought it was worth bothering the midwife about. She said that it was normal and that I would probably go into labor within the next couple of days. By 12:30, though, they were five minutes apart and I had sprung a small leak, so I knew it was safe to let people know I was in labor.
I texted my mom, the adoptive mom, and my doula. I knew I still had plenty of time, so I didn't call anyone yet. I relaxed in the bathtub with some labor tea and things slowed down considerably. When I got out, I tried to get some sleep, but the contractions started coming harder and faster. I called my doula and she said adrenaline was probably affecting me and suggested I get back in the bath -- they were only lasting 10-20 seconds. The second bath didn't stop the contractions, but it definitely made the pain more bearable. While I relaxed in there, I tried to read Natural Hospital Birth. During all of this, my son had gone to sleep (he told me later that he went to sleep because he was tired of checking the time for me -- I kept asking him what time it was every time I had a contraction), my sister had come over, and the adoptive mom had called me back. I told her I was going to labor at home as long as I could, and then I'd let her know when I was heading to the hospital. My sister left with my son at around 3:30 and the contractions kept getting stronger and lasting longer. I tried to get some sleep again, but it wasn't happening. By 4:30 things were REALLY starting to hurt, and I was being very vocal. I didn't care about the neighbors or anyone else who heard me. I was trying to make the "MAAAAAAAAAA" sound, as I had read that it was helpful, but I was also saying, "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" like ohhhhhhhhhh my god, this hurts.
Contractions had been steadily at 7 minutes apart, and amazingly I suddenly found myself sleeping between them. I made some more labor tea and sipped on that as well. When I got to the point where they were too close together to sleep between, I called my doula and told her I thought it would be soon and asked her to come over. This was about 6. She and her apprentice got there by 6:30 and their support was invaluable over the next hour, as I was at the point where I had already had an epidural with my other two and I was feeling pain unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. She kept reminding me to keep my face relaxed and gave me pointers on more comfortable positions to labor in. She kept me focused by talking to me in a soothing voice and looking at me in my eyes, which helped distract me and give me strength. She reminded me to take deep breaths and stay calm. I did very well at that for a while, but there came a point later at which I couldn't even force myself to breathe deeply or stay calm. But while we were at the apartment, I felt in control, serene, and focused. The contractions racked my body, but I felt strong enough to handle them.
Juliea drew three goddess oracle cards for me while we were there, and I was amazed at the reading. The middle card, which signifies the present, was Butterfly Maiden. It was all about transformation and rebirth, which definitely applied to me at that current phase of life. The future was Eireen (Peace), which depicted the goddess holding a baby. And I knew that a peaceful resolution was at the end of this. In the past position was Brigit, and it said "Don't Back Down" at the bottom. That symbolized me standing my ground and going forward with my decision to do what was right, without backing down. I was passionate enough about giving my baby the best life that I was able to maintain my conviction, even in times of doubt. The reading was simply amazing and I'm very glad we did it, because it reassured me that all would be well and helped me stay positive. I went forward, renewed with the sense that all was as it was meant to be.
At about 7:30, I was having a contraction and in the middle of it, I felt a feeling similar to a gas bubble gurgling in my abdomen, it was like a popping feeling. As soon as that happened, the contraction intensified. When I stood up, my pants were soaked -- my water had broken, and we needed to get to the hospital. We gathered up my things and my doula called the adoptive parents to let them know. While we were enroute, I called the midwife. Things were intense. I could barely hold myself together during a contraction. When we got to the hospital, they put me in triage and I started dry heaving. My doula put some aromatherapy stuff in the basin, sprayed something, and held on to me while I had contractions. I found that standing and holding the edge of the bed was the most comfortable position for me to labor in. They asked if I wanted an epidural and I said I was going to try not to. At this point, I was feeling a pain that I could never imagine or describe. However, I still felt in control.
They got me to my room and my doula set up crystals and got out massage oils and other goodies to help me labor. She had me hold onto a stone, which I clutched until the end. I believe it was red jasper, but I could be wrong. It was in that room that I lost it. I couldn't breathe deeply, I kept hyperventilating. I couldn't stay relaxed, I was tense and shaking and even rocking back and forth during contractions was not helping. My doula was rubbing my back and applying counterpressure, which DID help, but that was taking it down from a 20 to a 17 on a scale of 1 to 10. I kept screaming, and she told me not to, to make low, throaty sounds -- but I couldn't. I started to panic. I looked at her and said, "I changed my mind. I want the epidural. I'm sorry, I tried, but I can't do this." She kept trying to distract me and suggest other things, and the contractions were on top of eachother so I only got a few chances to argue back with her. No one was doing anything! No one was getting me an epidural, and I knew if I waited too long it would be too late. I started begging her, so she lied to me and said it was on the way so why don't we get in the shower while we're waiting. I agreed, but I had a feeling that it was already too late.
She turned on the water in the shower and as soon as I got in, I had the strangest feeling. My body was pushing, all on its own. I never realized how automatic that was. In that moment, I recalled women saying they had been told to stop pushing, and I realized how impossible that would be. Believe me, I wasn't ready for that yet -- but I didn't have a choice! They moved me to the bed, and the doctor wasn't even there yet. I didn't care, the baby was coming and I couldn't wait for anyone. The girls helped me keep my legs up and coached me through the pushing. I was scared, I didn't want to give in to it. As much as I was hurting, I feared the pain that was coming when she came out of me. The midwife arrived and she said, "You have to PUSH with the contraction!" so I bit the bullet and pushed. She made a comment about how much hair the baby had, so I knew she was close. I even commented about how much heartburn I had and we shared a giggle between contractions.
On the next contraction, I pushed with all my might...I felt her start to come out...then when she was crowning, it hurt so bad that I stopped pushing. They started yelling at me, "Don't stop pushing!" so I started pushing again, and yes, it was a very unique and excruciating horrendous type of pain, but it was short. As soon as Sienna was all the way out, the pain immediately stopped. I didn't feel any pain at all, just love. I was shaking from the adrenaline and in a state of disbelief. Did I really just do that? They placed her on my stomach and she was as calm as could be. She didn't cry or fuss, just peacefully lay there, looking around. They asked if I wanted someone to cut the cord, and I said her parents. The adoptive mom came in the room and cut the cord, while I looked on in amazement. This is the moment I had feared -- I thought I would feel regret, sadness, grief. I thought I could not bear to give my baby to her mother. But instead, a feeling of "this is right, this is her mother, and I am okay with that" washed over me. Instead of feeling regret, I felt an amazing gratitude for having had the very special role of bringing this beautiful baby into the world. I felt blessed that she had chosen me, and in doing so, transformed me in the process. I know that they were meant to be her parents, and I was meant to bring her to them. I felt so blessed that I got to share the first part of her journey and be a part of such an amazing miracle.
The adoptive mother held her with tears in her eyes. Sienna did not cry or fuss or seem scared. I could sense this amazing awareness about her, like she knew exactly what was going on, and understood. She didn't seem confused, overwhelmed, or bewildered -- it was the wisest looking newborn I have ever seen. I really believe that she is an old soul and already possesses a wisdom beyond what a typical newborn should have. When she got hungry, I nursed her for about 40 minutes. She did great -- it made me a little sad that she won't be able to breastfeed, because she was so good at it. It just came naturally to her. I really loved and appreciated having that time to hold her close to me and bond with her. I was amazed with her. Again, this was a part that I had imagined and predicted to be hard. I thought I would bond with her in a way that would make it difficult to part with her. Instead, I felt like we were sharing our love for each other and being grateful for each other and taking the time to communicate our feelings to each others hearts where we could hold them there forever after we had gone on down our own separate paths.
She was 7 lbs 5 ounces, 20 inches long. She had TONS of silky, beautiful hair. It looks cute right now because it kind of sticks up and looks spiky. She is currently the spitting image of her father, but I know as she gets older her features will change and she will show some of my traits as well. I saw her twice more before I left the hospital and was comforted each time by how happy and peaceful she seemed. I can see how happy this family is together, and I am beyond words at how special it makes me feel for having a part in making that happen.
Before I was moved to my room, we had a small ceremony just as I had imagined, and it was touching. I held Sienna and said a few words to her parents (I don't remember at all what I said, I was in a haze) and then I passed her to them and they said some things to me. There wasn't a dry eye in the room. Then we lit a unity candle and my doula said some things and hugged me. I couldn't stop crying -- I had been holding in my tears for so long and the floodgates just burst open. She gave me a healing poncho that the sisters had made for me, and a T-Shirt that said "Not afraid, not alone, not anymore" down the side and "Not This Girl" along the bottom. I cried and cried and cried.
I'm not going to lie, I have had some difficult moments since her birth. I have had no regrets, but it is natural to feel sad from time to time. After all, I carried her in my womb for 9 months, of course I miss her. My milk is coming in and sometimes I cry that I have no baby to nurse. This is really what makes it a sacrifice -- I am enduring this pain in her place. She is so loved, and has BROUGHT such love to every life she has touched. To see that happen is worth all the tears I cry today. Yes, I am suffering. But that does not mean it was not meant to be -- what's easy is not always right, and what's right is not always easy. The days ahead will be rocky, and it's hard now to transition into normal life when I haven't transitioned into normal clothes. But life does go on, and I have to manage my emotions and get through it like anyone else does.
All of my pain, sadness, and trauma from over the past year, all of my mistakes and bad decisions, all of it was surrendered to the higher good and transformed into something so awesomely wonderful that it makes it all worth it. Like a lotus, blossoming from the muck, Sienna is like a beautiful angel born of the yucky crap that was my life. It all had a purpose, and now I am starting over too into MY new life, as if I were a newborn as well. I may have been a victim before, but now I am a survivor. I may have been a prisoner of toxic attachments, but I know in my heart, I am NOT THAT GIRL.
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