birthin ain't for the weak o' hearts

It was a Friday evening, and I can remember how sure I was. It was 4 days past the expected due date, so at this point I knew that once the pain started it was time for work. I crawled into bed, and tried my hardest to push the butterflies from my stomach and the anxiety from my head. Easier said than done, when you know your only hours away from meeting the human you have created, and whom has been growing inside you for 9 months. I managed to get a few hours of rest, but around 1am - I was woken by the intensity of what was only the beginning of my pain. My mum ran me a bath, lit some candle's and hushed me through my contractions. I wonder what women do without their mums at their side, to do these things. This went on throughout the night - restless sleep, bath's and hushing. Somewhere inside of me, I knew I was in for a long haul and tried my best to be patient(again, easier said than done..)Someone called the midwives, and someone called my doula, and someone called Laurel. I had a scheduled stretch and sweep that afternoon at the hospital, and I can remember my mum arguing with the midwives when they insisted I still make the appointment. When they accepted that I was not making the appointment and that I was indeed in early labor (oh, how early it really was...) Lillian came over to check me over as my midwives we're still attending another birth. Lindsey arrived shortly there after, and began her work of massaging and caressing my swollen and tired body. I tried to eat, it came back up. I tried to rest, but the pain kept me awake. I took lots of baths, and walked as often as I could - but I seem to remember just wanting it "to all be over". My sister was in her room, "dieing" because she was so sick. She had a really awful cold, so she couldn't be a part like she had wanted to be. My dad hid out downstairs in the basement, and now looking back - I can only imagine the anxious pacing that must have taken place. Mum stayed by my side, the whole time. By 6pm it had already been 21 hours of labor - and I was so tired, I remember feeling like my body just couldn't take it any longer. The midwives eventually coaxed me into breaking my water, because transition was just not coming on it's own. That's when the contractions became a whole new level of intense. I remember looking around me, and wondering how my surroundings became so clean and organized (oh, the power of a mother's presence). I moved my body to the living room, and sat on the birthing stool for a awhile, at which time the urge to push became much stronger. Lindsey kept telling me to moan, roar and concentrate "be the momma bear, let her out" ... I can hear her saying that to me. After about 15 minutes of pushing on the stool, I positioned myself on the futon - and surrender to the place reserved inside of me for birthing. I would come in and out of contractions - and in between, no one else was around me.. I was in my own world, breathing and talking to Emma - telling her to come, I was ready for her - and to find her way through the tunnel. At one point, when in the middle of pushing my dad had come upstairs to check out the scene - only to come face to face with my laid out body and a disgruntled look on my face. He matched my expression, which made me laugh - he looked like he had just taken a bite of a rotten lemon. 45 minute's of pushing later (and 26 hours of laboring later) Emma's head emerged. My mom guided my hand down, to feel her - and I childishly squirmed. I'd never felt that before, it shocked me - her skin was wrinkled from being squished by the birth canal. One more contraction, and one great big push - and there she was, beautiful and blood covered Emma Susan. Born at 10:44 pm, weighing 8lbs on the dot. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to scream. It was the most overwhelming, exciting and exhilarating feeling I had ever experienced... and to this day, it was the most intense moment of my whole life. I had done it, we had done it - together. This was the birth of Emma, and the birth of me, into motherhood.