Unexpected

By Lydia

... a true birth story compiled by Katrina Folkwell
Just an hour ago I was peacefully asleep and now here I am feeling as if a rocket is torpedoing through me.

I had awakened to a deep rumbling belly, gone off to the toilet, nothing out of the ordinary, and gone back to bed. Minutes later, off I went again. Sensation of cramps and diarrhoea. Again, and then my waters broke as I sat on the toilet. A slight rush of nervousness happening. I went outside to where Ramesh, my partner was sleeping on the verandah, on this warm, late summer’s night. He followed me in and lit the candles, then he raced across the road to Katrina’s house to phone my support team.

Things move fast. Deb, my midwife arrives, as well as Katrina, Suzanne and my brother Brin. Brin begins to fill the tub in a hurried manner, as things rush along quicker than expected. My brother’s support is felt with great presence. Ramesh wants to talk and clear the air between us, as the night before we were distant with each other. Words are not what I want, I request full presence. “Just be here!” I say.

He rubs my lower back as the pain escalates intensely. It feels as though it was into full contractions. Deb realises that I am well into labour and about 7 centimetres dilated. It’s something like 3 a.m. and such an incredible tightness and contractions seem to be ripping through my belly.

I call Suzanne, as I need help. She, in her full, earthy, grounded way sits inches from me, staring deeply into my eyes, she breathes along with me. Her intense focus gives me the connection that I need to stay present and not lose control. My mother awakens my little 6-year-old-boy, Zen, and prepares him for our baby’s birth. Off towards the tub, one or two steps before I must stand still in gripping contractions, breathe through it and take a few more steps. Sips of remedied water, cool towels and comfort continues to come from Suzanne.

As Deb guides me along, I can barely lift my legs over the wooden tub, as the contractions pound on so fast and furious. It seems as though I only just felt the gentleness of the warm water comforting me for seconds before a head is crowning and pushing out. I can feel the silky softness of a head and from under the ripples of water, appears my babe. Ramesh supports my body in rest. It is 4.41 a.m. and a sweet baby girl, which seems so small, lies with us.

We bathe in awe, and gratitude, admiring this angelic face we have been gifted with. My beautiful Zen, resting over the tub, gently touches her and nourishes me in his loving smile, proud to have a little sister.

My belly still feels considerably tight, it’s strange. Deb feels me. “Lydia, there’s another baby coming!!”

OH MY GOD.

A veil of surprise covers everyone’s face. Ramesh is in shock. “Accept it, accept it,” I think. “I cannot do this unless  you can fully be here,” I say to him.
My body is exhausted with no remaining strength. How do I do this? I’m lacking energy and no bearing down sensations are happening. I feel in physical and mental shock and it all feels awkward.

Little feet begin to show, a breeching, a little boy. He has gulped inner waters and needs to get out quickly. Deb has to reach inside me to pull his arm from over his head as it made him unable to slide out. He arrives with a bluish face, not breathing. Deb sucks him to clear the airways and then with a tube. Time slows down, I am in a trance; is he going to make it?

Brin takes over and tries to free his water-logged lungs. “Call your child in, talk to him!” pleads Deb. I speak awkwardly, as a hush fills the air.
“Look, I think we have a Priestess in the room,” someone whispered. My mother is standing there, arms raised high in the air, speaking in some unknown tongue, praying, calling in the light. Suddenly, breath, life, spirit descend into this babe. I feel graced with relief and inner tears of joy, of love, of shock. In a timeless moment we hold our two babies.

I need to rest fast. I am showered and helped into bed by Katrina. Suzanne jumps in the tub to help with the babies, as they need their cords cut from the placenta. Kaya, my wonderful mother served us all. Brin my amazing shaman-like brother brought herbs, ginseng and tonics to heal my exhausted body. Zen, shining like a jewel, nursed his new sister and Ramesh surrendered into the beauty of his new babies. I lay, in silence, soaking up the beauty of two little angels from heaven.

Published in byronchild/kindred, issue 3, September 02