Labor and Honey

My contractions started at the movie theater, while I was watching La La Land.
The exciting part of labor was having my husband feed me thickly buttered toast in bed in between contractions around midnight – that’s when I still could swallow food.
By sunrise, I got to that point when you start to feel like you’re being forced by your own body to run a marathon you haven’t really trained for. No matter how badly I wanted to sit down on the side of the race and take a break, my body was going to keep going without me.

I gave birth in my living room a day later, on a wooden birth stool that Sarita brought with her. I HATED that birth stool. In between contractions, I tried to eat the tiniest pieces of strawberry from Sara’s fingers. And

I sipped honey water from a tea cup that a doll could have used. I was so shocked that I wasn’t ravenous, but quite the opposite.

Pushing was hardmuch harder than what I imagined. My son was in an asynclitic position – like he was cocking his head to listen a little better. But that also meant that he was a little bit stuck. Without his help to wriggle out, I pushed and pushed until I thought I saw bugs swarming all over my living room. There was no ejection reflex; no feeling of him slowly coming down. 

Those last few hours I was surrounded by an amazing little team, sprawled out on my living room floor and couch, waiting for my son to arrive and helping me bring him out. After it was over, despite the exhaustion of labor, I felt like a million bucks. A very tired, bloody, pale million bucks. Everyone else snuck away to sleep in some quiet corner of the house and I drifted off, still suspended in a dream.
Name: Hawks
Born at home with Sarita, Sara Zia, Laura Pilati (my doula and friend), and Chip (my husband)
February 13, 2017 at 3:27 am. He was 6lbs 15oz.