Xana's Birth of a Son

The Birth of a Star

Harsha and I are lying on the beach, listening to the waves breaking and gazing up at the clear night sky. Thousands of millions of stars twinkle down at us. In peace and silence, I rest my head on Harsha’s shoulder. Suddenly the sky erupts in light and colour. A light much brighter then the sun and colours more phenomenal than fireworks. Red, blue, violet, green, orange… The explosions are centred in a huge circle and light up the entire night sky and the beach. “What is that?” I ask in amazement. “It’s a supernova explosion. The birth of a new star!” Harsha whispers without taking his eyes off the sky.

I awoke with a smile. I reflected on the beauty and the possible meaning of the dream, when I suddenly felt an explosion deep within my belly and a flood of water gushed between my legs. With an outcry of surprise and joy, I woke my husband. I jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom, Harsha followed in the trail of water. I climbed into the bathtub and let the water flow from my belly, along my legs and down the drain. My husband stared at me, his hair messy, his eyes wild.      

   “My God, is there meant to be so much water?”

   “Don’t worry. Everything is the way it's supposed to be,” I laughed happily. “You will soon be a dad!”

Unlike most women of my generation and the generation of my mother, I did not rush to the hospital. Instead I called Jane, my independent midwife, to let her know that my baby was ready to leave the room under my heart. We agreed that I would call her once I had expansions. I refused and still refuse to use the word “contractions”, as that makes me think of my body closing up and becoming tense, which is the opposite of what I needed to birth my child. The uterus contracts firstly to expand the cervix. Once the cervix is fully dilated the uterus contracts to assist the baby’s passage from the womb and through the birth channel. As a great believer in the power of words and the mind, I used the word expansions.

After a light breakfasting, Harsha and I made the final preparations for the homebirth. I carefully chose soft clothes and receiving blankets for the baby and folded a cloth nappy according to the instructions in the baby book. Once Harsha’s initial shock of the baby’s imminent arrival had subsided, he became calm and practical. He set up the birthing pool in the family room, which offered a great view of the native Australian garden, through the floor-to-ceiling windows and glass doors.

Hours went by and we just waited for labour to begin. I sat down in my study, read my birth plan and made some last minute additions and changes. Before I got married I had never reflected on childbirth. My mother had of course told me about my own birth, but for her it had been nothing more then a physical process. But I had the feeling that childbirth was more then that, much more. I had been very unwell throughout my pregnancy and had been confined to the house and bed for most of the days, weeks and months. During these endless, lonely days I started to read, research and question the common childbirth practises of the modern world. What is the advantage of birthing in a hospital? Safety, was the answer I got from people around me, but medical research showed me another picture. Maternal and infant survival rate was equally high in hospital births as midwife-assisted homebirths. Furthermore, the rate of medical intervention, the need for pain relief and drugs to stimulate labour, and the rate of infections was much lower in homebirths. I read about how every medical intervention led to further interventions and about the negative effects of all these interventions: respiratory distress in babies, breastfeeding difficulties, lack of bonding, maternal disempowerment and a higher postpartum depression rate and many more problems. Research showed me that hospital births were longer, more painful, and had more complications then homebirths. I came to the conclusion that in hospitals doctors deliver babies and at home women give birth. The more I read, the more convinced I became that a natural homebirth was the best and healthiest option for both me and my baby.

My mother lived on the other side of the world and I had often missed the nurturing of women during the difficult pregnancy. Women of all times have birthed together with other women, nurturing and guiding each other, and even though I had a loving and supportive husband, I didn’t believe he could give me the nurturing and guiding that I would need during the childbirth. I had therefore asked a close friend, a middle-aged woman and masseuse, to be my surrogate mother and support person for the birth. Diane arrived during the morning with her warm smile, and pulled me into her soft embrace. I felt as secure and as happy as a child in the arms of her mother.

Six hours after the waters breaking, I was still waiting for my first expansions. We decided to go for a walk to move things along. It was one of the last days of spring and it was warm and sunny. Arm in arm, the three of us walked around in our neighbourhood, a sleepy suburb of Sydney. Talking and laughing, we admired the beautiful, large gardens and colonial houses. I felt a tingle of disappointment when I didn’t feel any tightness over my belly, even after an hour's walk. Patience had never been one of my great strengths. Back home, I lay down on the daybed in the family room and watched the parakeets that climbed on the screen door, begging for food. The soft, warm breeze from the open door caressed my bare arms and legs. Intuitively, I knew that I had to birth this baby with my mind. I closed my eyes and started to visualise the birth, as I had done daily for the entire pregnancy, and I sent my thoughts to my baby.

Little One, I am ready to be your mother now. You are welcome into the big world. Your daddy and I are eager to meet you. Please, come to us! Don’t be scared. The world is beautiful. So much to see, so much to do and so much to learn. Your daddy and I will guide you, protect you, love you and take care of you. Come to us!

My body is preparing to birth my child. Even though I can’t feel it, my uterus is already working and opening up my cervix and birth channel. The expansions are getting stronger and stronger. My expansions are regular and effective. My uterus is a muscle and it is doing the job that it is meant to do. I can feel the expansions, in the same way that I can feel any other muscle working. Tension, but no pain. My cervix is getting thinner and thinner and is opening up the passage between my womb and the birth channel. My entire body is preparing to birth my child. 

As I lay there, visualising, I felt a tightening over my belly. The tightening repeated once more, and then again a few minutes later. The expansions had started! I was thrilled and wanted to jump up and tell Harsha and Diane straight away but forced myself to continue visualising for a bit longer, so that the expansions wouldn’t fade away. I welcomed every expansion with joy and gratitude, because each one brought me closer to holding my baby in my arms.

Lying on the massage table, Diane stroked my body with soft, loving hands. The baby was perfectly still in my belly, like he was enjoying the massage as much as I. Diane stroked first my belly and then my arms. My expansions grew stronger and, in my mind, more efficient. My body became softer and relaxed; my mind was at peace and in harmony.

Jane, the midwife, came in the evening. She observed my behaviour and breathing patterns during the expansions and made some non-invasie examinations. With a pinnard, a wooden stethoscope, Jane and Harsha listened to the baby’s heartbeat. We were told that my baby and I were well and that I was still in the early stages of birthing.

   “Go to bed, Xana. Try to get some sleep and we’ll talk in the morning”, Jane said as she left. This was not at all what I wanted. I had no intention of going to bed! I had no intention of waiting until the next day to meet my child! No way! Even though I wasn’t in pain, the expansions were quite intense and very tiring.

I was convinced that childbirth didn’t have to be painful. As an athletic swimmer, I knew that even when my muscles worked extremely hard, I didn’t get agonizing pain. It just didn’t make any sense that my largest muscle, the uterus, should be any different. Being curious, I had researched the facts and I found that labour pain was caused by fear and stress. Women who go to hospital experience a lot of stress from the new and often frightening environment and the many new people. Most routine examinations are painful and evoke feelings of fear that something might be wrong and questions women’s ability to birth naturally. The negative emotions release the hormone adrenalin, which reduces the blood flow and oxygen supply to the uterus and thereby making contractions painful and ineffective. Contractions may stop completely.Endorphins are our body's own morphine, but adrenalin stops the secretion of endorphins and the woman experiences more pain. Pain, stress, fear and cessation of labour are all linked in a complex circle that many women can’t escape without drugs and medical intervention. Birthing at home, I had less stress because I felt safe in my own home, surrounded by people I knew and trusted, and I was not forced to undergo painful examinations.

Being determined to birth my baby this very night, I climbed up on the massage table and let Diane calm my body and mind again. I could almost feel the helpful hormones flooding my veins with every touch on my skin. Under Diane’s loving touch I dared to dive deeper into myself then I ever had before. What I found was an unknown strength and great powers. I gave myself permission to use the powers, now and in the future. I visualised over and over again my body opening up and my child coming further into my birth channel with every expansion. Within ten minutes I was in transition, the second phase of childbirth. The expansions moved through my body like waves that became increasingly stronger and faster. I could no longer lie still on my back and started moving around the house instead. I quickly fell into the trap of transition – the erroneous belief that I couldn't birth my child. I was frustrated, restless, anxious and felt overwhelmed by tiredness. Harsha filled up the birth pool with warm water. As I submerged myself in the water I remembered the purpose of the negative feelings; to train me in the patience that I would need as a mother, to empower me with the realisation that I can do more than I believe that I can, and that no matter how tired I am, I will survive and I will manage to do what I need to do, for myself and my child. The water calmed and soothed me. My husband joined me in the pool and he held me in his arms during the expansions, and we talked quietly during the breaks. I floated around in the candlelit room and had a vision of what it must feel like for my child in the womb, lying in darkness only interrupted by a soft, red glow of strong light that has been filtered through the layers of skin, muscles and water. He lays there surrounded by warm water just like me, I thought. I curled into the foetal position and let the water cover me completely. I realised that my baby might be scared and anxious of the unknown. I remembered that the baby had a crucial role in his passage through the womb and birth channel. In an attempt to soothe the baby, I send my thoughts and love to him. 

   “This is safe and wonderful, Little One,” I though as I lay in the same position as the baby.  I then stretched out and raised my head over the water.

  “This is safe and wonderful too, Little One. You will have everything you need here and I will be able to give you more love. Come to us! Don’t be scared!” I stroke my belly in a downward motion.  A wave of nausea hit me and I threw up. Diane gave me water to drink and caressed my back.

My body urged me to leave the calming water. I listened and obeyed. Half naked I paced the room, round and round. Harsha tried to walk with me, but I unkindly pushed him away. He had interrupted the rhythm that I instinctively wanted to - needed to - follow and his touch prevented me from diving into the waves of expansions. I was exhausted. I lay down on the day bed and almost slept in the intermissions between the crashing waves. As soon as a wave started to build up, I jumped up and paced the room following the beat of a drum that only I could sense. I went further and further into myself and the people around me seemed to faded away. I heard myself making sounds that I had never made before. I didn’t judge myself; just let the sounds escape from me. I left the depth of myself long enough to notice that Jane, the midwife, was sitting in the room, together with Harsha and Diane, then I dove deep into myself and my waves again.

In an aimless search I left the room and after pacing all the rooms, I sank down on the toilet. Harsha lit candles and Jane pressed the pinnard on my belly to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. I hardly noticed what was going on around me. Time seemed to disappear. I felt fullness in my pelvis and started to push gently. Pushing felt good and raised my energy levels. Through the sound of crashing waves, I heard Jane say that I had a mucous show. I looked between my legs and saw thick blood leave my body. I didn’t care, didn’t think about it. Just noticed and accepted it. I don’t know how long I sat there on the toilet, pushing and moaning; my body, soul and mind merged as one. It could have been minutes or hours.

“Is she pushing?” I heard Diane’s surprised voice in a distance and Jane answering her,

   “Oh yes, she has done that for quite some time”. I opened my eyes to look at Diane and I laughed. The next wave rose and I dove into the deepness once again. I felt the presence of women in the room, not just Jane and Diane, but women from all times and all places. I felt them protecting me and my child, and sending me energy and strength. Being with them I felt confident that I knew what I needed to do. I didn’t need any guidance from Jane. All I needed was within me.

I was pulled out of the deepness by increased energy in the small room. I heard Jane call my name and even though I wanted to stay in the darkness with the women, I slowly let myself come to the surface.

   “Xana, I can see the baby’s head. I need you to go to the bedroom. We need more space.” My bedroom felt so far away and I didn’t want to move, but Jane insisted so I stood up on shaky legs and Diane and Harsha held my arms and led me out of the bathroom. It was hard to walk with what felt like a melon between my legs. Once out of the bathroom I refused to walk another step. Quickly Jane and Harsha grabbed blankets, chairs and pillows and set it up in the large hallway. I squatted, leaning against Diane, who was sitting behind me on a chair. Jane and Harsha sat in front of me, quietly talking. I pushed as much as I could, because it felt good and because I was impatient to meet my child. The waves crashed almost on top of each other. I cried out loudly because I couldn’t contain the sounds and intense emotions inside me. The sound gave force to my pushes. I looked down and could see my baby’s head gliding out of the birth channel more and more. Harsha held his hand on the tiny head.

   “What’s this?” Harsha sounded surprised and worried. I got scared and I thought

   “What? Isn’t it a baby?” Jane took charge immediately and put a finger between the baby’s head and the perineum and made a swift movement. My baby’s head and one arm glide out, the baby makes a turn and the rest of the body glides out on the soft blankets. For a moment we all just stare at the little person that just entered this very room and the world. As I stretch out my arms to pick up the child, Diane exclaims

   “It’s a boy!” I hold him tight in my arms; I have a baby! There is utter silence and Jane pats and strokes the tiny body. The child starts whimpering and then screaming. I rock him softly and try to calm him. I have tears of joy in my eyes and see the same expression in my husband’s and Jane’s faces. Diane is squeezing my shoulders and Harsha hugs me with the baby between us. Warm blankets are wrapped around the two of us. The boy stretches one little hand up over my bare breast, like he is claiming me as his own. I grab his hand and kiss it softly.

   “Of course I am yours. I love you!” I whisper to him. His crying slowly quietens and he stares at me with big, round eyes. For a long time I just sit there and gaze into my son’s eyes with Harsha and Diane next to me. When I feel expansions again, I move to the bathroom and give birth to the placenta. Harsha clamps and cuts the cord.

I lay in bed with the boy, exhausted, but completely happy. A new day had just begun and I thought about the dream I had had the previous morning. What does a supernova explosion mean? Not knowing much about dream interpretation nor supernovas, I decided that it meant that every child has an huge impact on the world, just like a supernova. I knew that my world had changed and could never be the same again.

   “Little One, I promise that I will always love you. I will protect you and guide you through life. I will always be here for you,” I whispered into my firstborn’s ear and then I fell asleep, with the baby boy in my arms.  

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