Special Delivery
The room was dark. It had been a long day and all that we needed was rest. Out of the blackness, came a moan of discomfort. The unsettling sound grabbed my attention. Soon it passed. However, I was not content with it just passing. Several minutes later the same unsettling sound became a beacon of anticipation. We both sat up in bed and looked at each other. Somehow the weariness of the day passed into the possibility of great joy. The old cliché says that joy comes in the morning, but we had no idea which morning.
When the powerful energy of human birth encompassed us, we began the journey toward becoming a family. The moans of discomfort were the result of the power of human birth contractions. The neon face of my watch cast an eerie glow upon the bedroom ceiling as I began to time the distance between and duration of the contractions. The contractions began in the back and went like a wave the diaphragm and then to the lower abdomen where the peak of the discomfort was felt. These waves of strength and pain came every 5 to 8 minutes. As we timed these contractions and waited we had a rather nervous anticipation, not knowing whether these were the real thing. This nervousness showed itself in the crooked red lines in our eyes. We had had such a long day already, but here ahead of us was the possibility of being awake all night.
The anxiety of not knowing compelled us to seek the living room couch to consider the situation. Here we were about to become first time parents, and yet had very little idea of the stress we would encounter in the next 27 hours. The dimly lit room seemed to describe our state of mind and emotion. The knowledge that this was the real thing had not yet vitalized us. Vitalization soon came.
The contractions became intense. Therefore, we called the midwives. The two women had had a sort of premonition that it would be that night. They both arrived within minutes. Quite well kept and organized, they comforted my wife as she experienced the increasingly strong results of labor. They encouraged her to breathe and open herself up for the baby. Their hands became instruments of sweet mercy as they massaged her back with a firm touch. Their hands were strong and rough with the signs of hard work; but somehow those rough hands became as soft as a feather. Their voices spoke with a distinct air of confidence. The words of encouragement answered the anxiety we were feeling. The experience of six births of their own and many other observations gave the women a certain authority worth trusting.
Soon, laboring in the living room gave way to the use of a warm bath. The bath helped to relax the tension of labor, allowing a more concentrated effort at using the contractions for that which they were intended. After several hours of labor, my vitality, as well as that of my wife, began to wane under the fatigue of labor and lack of sleep. The fresh droplets of sweat appeared regularly on our foreheads. A cool damp cloth displaced them. The pains of labor were consistent like the patter of rain on the roof, sometimes not ending for 2 minutes.
The laboring seemed so slow that an amount of stress developed after 12 hours. The emotional impact of the pain was like the weight of the world on my shoulders. At one point a cry of pain turned into a cry of release. It was like acknowledging that the baby was going to come in God’s time not ours.
The noonday sun cascaded through the window and soaked us with its rays. I was now holding my wife in an upright position so the baby would drop faster. During the contractions she became nearly limp and felt as though she weighed a ton. I supported her under her arms as she concentrated on the contractions. My heart became entirely overwhelmed with anxiety over the coming of my child. I began to wonder if the baby would come naturally. I dreaded the thought of having to go to the hospital, especially considering the choice that we had made to have a homebirth. I envisioned a condescending doctor explaining to me how reckless it was to take control of the birthing situation.
After 25 hours of strenuous labor the baby was in position to be pushed out. At this point the moans of discomfort became more intense. The moans became groans. Forty hours of sleeplessness shrouded my spouse. For 2 hours she pushed. Near the end of that time the groans were turning to cries of pain, and finally to screams and shrieks of excruciating pain when the baby’s head came.
The tension of the moment climaxed when the baby’s shoulders were stuck and not coming out. There is no movie that can scare a person like the scared feeling that covered us like a mist. With the use of the proper technique, however, the rest of the baby was out in a matter of seconds.
I have never felt any feeling in my life like the moment Levi Thomas St. George was born. The emotional release nearly caused me to faint away. The only thing I could do is fall on my face before God. I have never cried so hard in my life, but felt so good about it. The exhilaration of new life filled the room. God had made a special delivery.
