Birth Stories

Rye’s Birth

When I think of the birth of my son, these are some of the images that come to my mind:  The beautiful morning light that comes into my bedroom in the mornings.  Being awake before everyone puttering around the house, knowing labor was finally here.  Very intense contractions while my daughter Nora rubs my back casually.  Feeling comforted by the sounds of my daughters Nora and Ella playing in another room and in the backyard with my dear friend, Anna.  Brian holding my hand, watching me with confidence and patience.  Midwives in the background, talking to each other quietly, moving supplies around, watching with wise eyes. Labor intensifying, and our group gathering instinctively around me.  The door is closed, reality suspended.  Lying on my side, feeling the urge to push, knowing what’s coming and wondering how can I get out of it.  Lying down on my side, closing my eyes, perfect silence, searching for a way to take it on. Finding my way – just deciding – bearing down, pushing with the loudest, deepest, longest and most satisfying scream.  Then, profound relief that I had only felt twice before, baby crying in my arms, daughters close, Brian close, midwives in silent action.  Relief and shock and joy and love. Six months later, everyday life is well and back.  There is work to do, and school for the girls and diaper rash and colds to manage and budgets to follow and birthday parties to plan and dishes to wash….but for this family, there will always be that morning that we all experienced together, when the four of us became the five of us.  We are individually transformed and collectively bonded because of it.


Bodhi’s Birth

Everyone was giving me gentle, encouraging words, saying it was only minutes away, just then I opened eyes to see Shuli arrived. I was able to take on the midwives words and give them to Shuli, saying “your baby’s only minutes away”. She looked so big and glowing with Big Sisterness. You were minutes away about 30 minutes after Cindy’s arrival, 3 and a half hours after Papi started to set up the tub, a few intentional pushes, some loud, screeching screams and then I asked “is it a boy or a girl”.  You were born in the caul, meaning your water bag was intact, giving you the most perfect shape head with this long, dark, silky hair. Legend has it that those born in the caul are destined for greatness.

I held you in my arms, propped up against Papi’s big strong chest and the placenta followed. Sister was beaming and looking so big, she was right in there with the midwives helping. It was, as though, she had done this all before, a stethoscope around her neck. She was a big girl and a big sister. She was the one to cut your cord, as we held you, our beautiful, Bodhi Boy.


Posted November 2, 2010 by Tres Lunas Midwifery