The birth of Kaya Rose

Those of you who knew me well during the pregnancy and birth of Gabe know that it was a very traumatic experience in more ways than I can recount in this note. The short of it is, at 22 weeks I started bleeding heavily and was told it was unlikely that Gabe would survive and certainly not that I would make it to term. I was in the hospital for a while and then at home on bedrest until the c-section at 35 weeks. I had a couple more episodes of bleeding and it was determined that I had a very rare but potentially fatal complication called a vasa previa - I had 2 placentas that were connected by the umbilical cord which was draped across the opening of my cervix. When I moved, it bled, and Gabe and I were both in danger.

Needless to say, Gabe is a happy, healthy and perfectly amazing little boy. I am blessed in ways that have made me re-think the way the universe works. Everything turned out well, except for the lingering trauma I endured for the past 2 years surrounding this experience. So many people were dismissive of my feelings - "well, you ended up with a healthy baby and that is all that matters" Really? Well, duh, thank you. Perhaps if you could crawl into my brain for a minute you would see the giant, gaping scar left behind from the stress and terror I was under for so long.

So this time around, barring any complications, of course - I was ready to face birth like G-d intended. At home, surrounded by loved ones and in the most natural state possible. Many people are afraid of home birth - afraid of what could go wrong, afraid of not being *able* to do it... I had no fear, and I mean that. I put my faith into the power of karma and healing and I had not one doubt that home birth was our intended path.

At 2am on Monday, July 20th, a contraction woke me. This was not a braxton-hicks - this was painful. They continued every 10 minutes until about 7am. The intensity picked up but they remained far apart. I baked a birthday cake for Kaya, knowing today would be the day. Around 9 my water broke and at 10 my sister-in-law arrived. We went for a walk that kicked the contractions into high gear, sending them to every 5 minutes apart and becoming very, very strong.

My midwife came as we were filling the birth pool. The water was wonderful and I labored in there for a couple of hours. Around 3pm I got the urge to push and did so very gently. I worked very hard on using my slow, controlled breathing and deep exhaling to work with the contraction instead of tensing up against it. After 2 hours of pushing, I began to feel sleepy and actually dozed off a bit in between the outrageous surges. I was not making much progress getting her out, though, so my midwife suggested trying some pushing on land. That was exactly what I needed - gravity! I stood for several pushes and got her to crown. My legs were getting tired and so I got onto hands and knees for the final rounds. Kaya Rose was born at 6:23pm with one big, giant controlled push that took every single ounce of strength and confidence I could gather up. It was the most beautiful, loving act I have ever done and I hope this feeling stays with me always.

I am in awe of the power of a woman's body. The moment Kaya was born, I knew I had finally become the woman I was always meant to be. My family was with me, in the comfort of our home and a blissful peace and quiet that could never, ever be achieved in the hospital. Nobody told me what to do, nobody told me when I could eat or drink, nobody came uninvited into my room and stuck their fingers inside of me like I was a ticking time bomb. The only intervention I had during labor was the love and encouragement of my husband, my midwife and my amazing sister-in-law Julie.

I just listened to my body and it heard me. It really did.