Birth Voice #1: The birth story of Ikaros

Καλημέρα και καλή εβδομάδα,

Σήμερα, με μεγάλη μου χαρά και συγκίνηση, ξεκινάω την ενότητα με τίτλο Birth Voice. Ένας από τους πολλούς και διάφορους λόγους που θέλω να φιλοξενώ ιστορίες γέννησης στο μπλογκ, είναι γιατί η διάσωσή τους αποτελεί κληρονομιά, παρακαταθήκη και κατάθεση αγάπης και τιμής σε μια μνήμη ιδιαίτερα πολύτιμη, μια μνήμη φυλαχτό για την μέσα και έξω ζωή μας αλλά και αυτή των παιδιών μας. Οι ιστορίες γέννησης αξίζει να ακούγονται, να διαβάζονται, να λέγονται και να ξαναλέγονται, να μοιράζονται, να συγκινούν, να αφυπνίζουν, να ενδυναμώνουν και βέβαια πάνω απ΄όλα να παραμένουν σταθερές, σαν ένα φως που δε σβήνει, ένα φως που υπάρχει πάντα, το φως που οδηγεί τα βήματά μας στον όμορφο μα και δύσκολο πολλές φορές δρόμο της μητρότητας. Το φως που κάνει όλες τις διαφορετικές ιστορίες να μοιάζουν και να είναι μία στ'αλήθεια, το 'υλικό' που μας ενώνει στον μαγικό αυτό κύκλο της γυναικείας εμπειρίας και αδελφοσύνης, αυτό το ΄κάτι΄ που μας δυναμώνει και μας βοηθά να βρούμε τη δική μας φωνή, πραγματώνοντας  έτσι ό,τι εμπεριέχουμε.

Η πρώτη ιστορία που σας παραθέτω εδώ είναι η ιστορία της φίλης και συνονόματής μου Δανάης, η ιστορία γέννησης του μικρού της Ίκαρου και μαζί του και της ίδιας ως μητέρας. Κάπως έτσι δεν γίνεται πάντα άλλωστε; Γεννώντας τα παιδιά μας γεννιέται και η μητέρα που φέρουμε μέσα μας.

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This is the story of the birth of Ikaros, our first born who decided to give us a little breech surprise.

After my visit to my midwife at 37 weeks where everything seemed to be normal, his position was good and we could hear the heartbeat in the right place, I went for a swim in a sea full of waves. One of them hit me on my back with force and I felt a rumble in my belly, but didn’t think much of it. After research and talks with my midwife I felt safe to birth at home anyway, even if the baby was coming in a breech position. 

About a week later I felt so heavy and tired that I was really wishing for him to come earthside soon and I believe he heard me. He was in such a rush to be born, he didn’t wait to get big and chubby, he didn’t wait to turn head down, he just came. At 38 weeks my waters broke in the middle of the night with a powerful contraction. It wasn’t like all the stories I had read about early labour where women get to go for walks in the woods and make tea for the midwives and doulas. It was intense immediately, contractions really close apart (approximately 3 minutes) and with every contraction I felt like vomiting. I woke my husband up and went to the toilet where I spent a lot of time wrapping my head around what was happening. We were both super excited about our baby arriving and more so about him arriving in our sacred space we call home. He prepared the house, put nice music on, made everything very clean, tidy and womb-like.

We called the midwife who arrived shortly after she heard what was going on, i.e. me groaning already and having contractions every 3 minutes. We filled the pool, I got in, then I got out, then I walked around, I felt already extremely tired and uncomfortable due to lack of sleep and inability to eat or drink anything. The sensation of nausea was the worst because it was distracting me from working with my contractions. I wanted to know how dilated I was... big mistake. It had been many hours of what felt like VERY active labour but I was barely dilated. The news were disheartening.

My midwife went home to rest and -I suspect- to give me some space to find my birthing big-girl-panties. I realised my situation: tired, with no food and thus no calories to burn, dehydrated, no energy, in a lot of pain and still with a long way to go. Up until that moment I was walking around, crouching, sitting on all fours in the pool, but I decided it was time to have a lie-down. I knew it was going to slow things down but deemed it necessary to rest and let things unfold by themselves. I sat on the sofa in a semi-seated position with one hot-water bottle on my back and one on my belly, an isotonic drink next to me which I forced myself to sip every now and then, lights off and eyes closed. My contractions slowed down. I managed to nod off in between. My husband was sitting down at the table quietly timing and keeping notes of my contractions, letting me get on with it but silently participating in the process, being there for me like a good doula. 

A couple of hours passed and contractions started speeding up, i had to get up again. The midwife came back and found things moving faster now, but after checking my dilation and finding my cervix was still too shy to open, she gave me a little talk. She sent me to a dark, quiet room, away from my husband and told me it was all up to me. To find my own strength. To believe in the process. To talk to my baby and ask him to come, to connect with him and tell him that we’re waiting for him (somehow i had completely forgotten that connection). To allow the opening to happen. She massaged my lower back and encouraged me, she guided my breathing and the sounds coming out of me and then left me to it. 

What a brilliant woman. In a few moments and with a few simple words she showed me my power. She took me within my own labourland and it was mine only. I took charge and at the same time, I let go completely. I was sitting on the yoga ball allowing the contractions to grow, feeling them, anticipating them like gifts. With every growing wave, I was moving my hips in a spiral movement, bigger and bigger circles, deeper and deeper voice. In between contractions I tried to silence my mind and body, to breathe deeply and meditate. I started to experience the pain as something grand and beautiful, not resisting it anymore. I could feel the contractions opening my body, opening my whole being and I embraced it. I sat there LABOURING for a couple of hours and I went from 2 dilation to 9 just like that. 

At some point I knew that he was coming and it was time to stand up again. I felt the pushing sensations but it wasn’t like I was pushing, more like my womb was pushing by itself. The surges felt like thunderbolts coming from above, going through my body and shooting into the ground. That sensation was INTENSE, BIG, MIGHTY. My brain was not registering pain anymore, only INTENSE, BIG, MIGHTY. And happy. Very happy. Every contraction would make me groan and roar like an animal and me and my husband would have a huge smile on our faces with each and every one of them.

When I stripped down to get into the pool there was a meconium show (as is common with breech babies) but I didn’t feel any fear. I was connected to him and knew that he was well and his heartbeat didn’t show any signs of distress. After a little while I got out of the pool because I felt too idle in there, I put my hand inside to feel my baby and I felt something soft and squishy! He was coming balls first!!! Again, no fear, only surprise in the room.

There was a lot of pushing where his little balls would go in and out, going blue in the process (as is also common with breech male babies and usually not something to worry about) but my position wasn’t helping him. My midwife suggested that hubby should sit on a chair and I should squat between his legs while he held me and that worked wonders. I felt him supporting me like a mighty tree, grounding me, radiating confidence. In this way I had a low gravity centre and a fully open posture, so very soon the bottom came out. The legs followed soon after, then the body, the arms and then the contractions stopped. 

In non-interventional breech births this pause in labour before the head is born is normal. You are supposed to wait and let gravity work -as long as the baby is well of course- and after a few moments of awkward dangling, contractions resume and the head comes out. These moments can seem like an eternity though and fear can creep in the birthing room.

In our case things didn’t go that well because the umbilical cord started losing its colour which is a sign of oxygen deprivation and we all got scared. My midwife was urging me to push (which had no results since there were no contractions) and in the end she asked me to lie down. Immediately she pushed my legs back and my husband put his hands inside me, loosened the umbilical cord that was wrapped around the baby’s neck twice and pulled the head out. Ikaros didn’t start breathing until after some resuscitation but soon he took his first breath, he got his colour back and showed us his loud voice... I held him in my arms and couldn’t believe how beautiful he was. I felt so blessed and powerful. We started breastfeeding attempts while the placenta came, which stayed connected to him until the next day.

Since that day I have talked a lot about my labour with other women, sisters, midwives and doulas, I have read and studied a lot, I have worked on the experience internally. The only thing I understand should have been done differently is my posture: I was standing most of the time which is not the optimum position for breech births because it may lead to premature separation of the placenta. «Premature separation of the placenta is more likely to occur with a breech-presenting baby because the uterus is emptier earlier in the birth. This means that the baby is prematurely deprived of its oxygen supply and will soon need to breathe for itself so must be born or delivered rapidly... This situation does not appear to be as common if the woman is kneeling... This has some possible connection to a different centre of gravity and possible reduction of stress in the baby, which leads to the placenta staying attached longer». My midwife was urging me to stay low most of the time but I wouldn’t listen. I believe that everything happened exactly the way it was supposed to, each of us came out of this experience with immense gratitude, sense of empowerment, a few scars to work with (but who comes out of a birthing room with no scars at all?) and a lot of love and joy. Birth is incompatible with fear.

Danai Papadopoulou

Αν θέλετε να μοιραστείτε τις ιστορίες σας, (στα Ελληνικά ή Αγγλικά, ό,τι σας βολεύει) δεν έχετε παρά να μου τις στείλετε στο mail μου danae.papadi@gmail.com, ιδανικά με τη συνοδεία κάποιας αντιπροσωπευτικής για εσάς φωτογραφίας. Κάθε ιστορία γέννησης θα δημοσιεύεται με αγάπη και σεβασμό στο μπλογκ το συντομότερο δυνατό.


Σας φιλώ, xoxo & stay inspired!
Namaste



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