Jeanne and Ken Reig's Homebirth Story
Highly anicipated waterbirth

Adrianne Louise

born after 14 hours of labor

April 2, 2003 at 7:13pm

She weighed 8 pounds and 9 ounces

We were ready. We were really, really ready. We had been ready for what seemed like a lifetime before the baby came, and she was only four hours past her exact due date. The house was in perfect order, even the pantry was alphabetized. We had completed our Bradley classes with our doula. We could relax through anything.

I had been waking up at crazy hours of the morning and gardening in my pajamas for the last few weeks, so when I opened my eyes on April 2nd and saw 4.30 on the clock, I just rolled my eyes at myself as if to say, "What insanity will you get up to this morning?" But wait...what was that? More than a twinge..less than a tweak...what was that? I was pretty sure it was not a contraction, it just couldn't be-we weren't READY!!!!

I lay there for a while and thought of every other thing those strange sensations could be... Then I thought I better ask my husband-HE would know... After a very calm and somewhat groggy, but very in depth consultation, we both arrived at the conclusion that, yes, this baby was on her way!! At first we panicked, then we tried to go back to sleep, then we got on the phone...there were mothers to call, midwives and doulas to alert and a birthday party to be arranged!!! Then we got a grip..it was only 6 am! Once we had called our moms and whipped them up into a frenzy of travel arrangements, we felt much calmer ourselves and pretty much just went about our usual morning.

I would call my husband every time I felt a squeeze, and we would practice. The contractions came pretty regularly for a few hours, but then faded away by 10.30 or eleven. This was exactly what our midwife said might happen. We were having such a nice day, we didn't even mind. We made a last trip to the grocery store to get some lunch and came home to watch a movie. At 1.30, that is when things got more serious. I had turned a sweaty shade of red and was now consumed with each contraction. That was about when my brain turned off. I think I kept insisting that it wasn't time yet, and not to bother anyone. This was despite the fact that I was now making unearthly noises at the peaks of the contractions. It was then that Ken called our midwife and doula - either his wife was about to have a baby, or she had slipped past the brink of insanity finally).

Then next thing I remember was our doula arriving. I was so, so happy to see her, and it hit me that this wasn't a class, but the REAL thing. I was finding that making noise was extremely helpful, which was the last thing I expected, being pretty quiet by nature, but it felt like it was helping the pain to pass through me and not build up until it was unbearable. I had lost all sense of time; there was only contraction and rest (which was great-it was fun to just hang out with everyone). I was on the ball, but having to stand through each contraction. Our doula suggested I to try to sit through just one or two and explained that it would help open the bottom of my pelvis (at least I think that's what she said). It made them hurt more, but because we had such a close connection and deep trust with her, I just did it because she said to. It made me see just how vulnerable you are during labor. If I hadn't been so lucky to be surrounded by people I trusted I would have had to fight every step of the way and that is just too much to do while you are trying to get a person out!

The worst part was lying on the bed, those were the worst contractions, and that is when I remember thinking that I couldn't do it. The funny part was that I didn't care. I had the exact thought, "Well, turns out I can't do this after all, but that is ok, my midwife and doula are here." As if they could do it for me!

When I got into the water, I just found myself pushing-I really had no control over it, my body was just doing it, and I was afraid it was doing it too hard. I don't remember any pain after this point-intense sensations I would describe as uncomfortable, but maybe just a different kind of pain. I began to feel something hard and reached down. I couldn't really tell what was what, but I was convinced that the baby was stuck. I had that funny feeling of being detached and yet totally present. I have heard it described as being "between the worlds". I looked up and just starred right into my midwife’s face and told her all about how that baby was stuck and that I was going to be ripping open soon. It was as if she was there holding the veils between the worlds open for me, creating the sacred space through which I could bring my baby into this world. She explained that the baby was not stuck and that it was ok if I tore a little. It was not long after that I realized what I was feeling was the baby's hair and said so. Our doula got the flashlight and we looked.

I could feel just fine what was going on, but what I looked at was my husbands face. It was so full of wonder and amazement (and some pure, raw fear). I might never see that expression again, but it is one of that ways that I measure the magnitude of what was happening. I was overcome with love.

Our midwife helped us unwrap the cord from around the baby's neck. The head was out and I asked her what to do now (as if an array of options was laid out before us-like she might say, well, why don't we all just do grab a snack!). I really didn't know what to do, though, and when she said to push her shoulders out, it really struck me as a brilliant suggestion. So that is what I did. Then she was out and Ken helped me to lift her out of the water. The three of us just starred at each other like, oh, it’s you, it’s her, and it’s us. The last thing I remember is like the end of a bedtime story-we just all snuggled into bed and fell asleep.

All in all, I would say I only really worked for six hours. Technically, I suppose I was in labor for 14. It didn't matter. Giving birth connects you to the whole of human history, I know I was acutely aware of how many mothers had been through the same thing and so, so grateful to be surrounded by the four dearest to me.