Birthing Jupiter (Part 1)

November 7th. 5:30am, I was awakened by strong contractions. Could this be it? Probably not. Up until that point, for the past few weeks, I had experienced prodromal labor. These few weeks had been riddled with all kinds of starts and stops of labor. It was torture. In addition, Jon and I were experiencing major anxiety, due to him being abroad for work. Although he was originally reluctant, we eventually both agreed that it would be a good idea for him to take the work opportunity, thus gifting our family something we hadn’t had before with any of our previous births... a little bit of a nest egg... an opportunity to pause. Although we both agreed that this would be best, we were aware of the possibility of Jon missing the birth. It was a bit of a gamble. For weeks, we pleaded with Jupiter to either come before Daddy left or to wait for him to return.

During the Summer leading up to Jupiter’s birth, our family had experienced a lot. In addition to Jon’s travel schedule, Jon’s mom became ill and passed away in September. He in turn had to handle her affairs while still working. I was still working and supporting families well into my third trimester. I was put on bed rest at 35 weeks due to preterm contractions and just overall stress. Our family’s goal was to keep baby Jupiter in as long as possible. Our goal was to have a home birth. I followed my Midwife’s (Racha Tahani Lawler) orders and remained on bed rest from 35 weeks until 37, (which by law, is when we could officially have our home birth.)

Around 5:00 pm, I picked up Jax up from school and opted to grab a pizza for dinner. On the way home, I began having contractions again. These seemed stronger. They were closer together. When I arrived home, my good friend, Aishat, called just to check in & encourage me to call my midwife. Truthfully, I didn’t think I was in labor. After speaking with my midwife, we had a game plan. I would call her when my contractions were at least five minutes apart.

My dear friend, Kelly called. From there everything sorta snowballed. My contractions began to come closer together. Like 3-5 minutes apart! Kelly began counting contractions while calling & rallying the birthing team. She was also in communication with Jon. She prayed and stayed with me on the phone until all birthing support arrived! She was absolutely everything.

Around 9pm Racha, our midwife, Nicole our doula, and Rebecca Coursey our birth photographer arrived. It was actually happening. This was it. (To be continued...)

Cultivate Peace.

We are officially in the homestretch… Truthfully, I feel as if I have been pregnant for 5,011 weeks. I can’t see my toes. Hell, I can’t see my vagina. Anything from the waist down (legs included) are a complete guessing game. As I've written before, this pregnancy has not only felt completely different than my previous pregnancies, but it has taught me some beautiful lessons along the way. I have learned to trust my body. I have learned to lean into the truth that I know what's best for me and this body that serves me every single day. I’ve learned that my joy… my happiness is imperative. I discovered that placing boundaries in order to protect my joy is not only necessary but wise. I have begun to practice what I preach in regards to leaning on my village! Truthfully, this has been easier said than done.

During this pregnancy of Baby Stereo, I have been busier than ever! At least busier, than at any time during my previous pregnancies. Between juggling postpartum doula clients, to planning and executing Moms In Color Events, to simply being a mama while my husband is traveling abroad for work, its been a lot. I've had to be a lot more gentle and kind to myself, and rid myself of the notion that somehow, someway, I could balance it all at once. I had to be present and in the moment. The moment that I tried to take on too much would prove to be the moment that my pregnant body would let me know that perhaps I should slow it down.

Around 29 weeks, I started having Braxton Hicks. No biggie. Totally normal for these warm-up contractions to begin. But then, I noticed that these practice contractions would become a bit more intense depending on what I was doing or viewing (Side Note: Dear pregnant people, be mindful of what you take in visually during pregnancy. More on that later.) Around 31 weeks, the Braxton Hicks became a bit more intense. At 33 weeks, (after watching something online that perhaps I shouldn’t have…) I had a Braxton hicks contraction that felt a bit painful. Was I in early labor? I couldn’t be. That week, my midwife and I both decided that perhaps it was time for me to journey to the exotic destination of bed and couch island.

While on bed and couch island, I decided to try out my new Bloomlife Monitor. Bloomlife is a women's resource that allows preggo people to monitor contraction information in real time. It provides information such as the duration of contractions, as well as frequency via a sensor gently placed three fingers below your belly button. The Bloomlife monitor gathers this information without the use of ultrasound and is completely non-invasive/ passive. This means, that this monitor is safe for continuous use. For me, the non-invasive component played a big part in my decision to take this monitor for a test drive. I’m a super chill mama, who has opted to have a homebirth. I am super reluctant about putting any "beepy" things on my body. This felt like a good middle ground for gathering information regarding what was happening in my body and not feeling as though I was feeding the technological monster. What I loved about the Bloomlife is that it doesn’t tell you when to call the midwife or when to pack your bags and head to the hospital. It is simply a tool to empower you to make an informed decision. The contraction information gathered can be viewed on your mobile device via the Bloomlife App.

Lastly, I feel that combining intuition with a resource such as the Bloomlife Monitor can be super helpful in supporting parents as they gear up to their labor journey. The monitor can be used simply as confirmation of your intuitive instinct. Which leads lead me to my final point. Trust yourself. Know yourself. If you are the kind of birthing person, who by seeing information real time, provides you peace, then the Bloomlife is for you. If you are the kind of birthing person, who by seeing information real time, could leave you feeling overwhelmed… Perhaps it may prove beneficial to have a friend, your partner, or your support system keep an eye out as the contraction monitor does its thing! Do what brings you the most peace and comfort. Do what feels right for you, and what leaves you feeling most empowered and supported. Gather all the joy… all the peace… lean into your deep intuitive birthing essence.

Abundance

Today, I have been reflective. It's hard to to wrap my head around the fact that not only will Mr. Jedi be 2 years old, tomorrow... But 2 years ago today, I was in the throws of 43 hours of intense labor. It was by far one of the most intense moments I have ever experienced. Truthfully, the intensity was beyond the surges, reminding me that this life that I had been carrying for 40 weeks, would now make its noble entrance.

I remember breathing... breathing through every contraction... through every bit of pain... It felt as if my back was being torn apart. Reading numerous hypno birthing books had gotten me to this point of no return. In that moment, I remember asking for my mother. In that moment I missed her more than ever. She was present for the birth of my oldest son, Jax. She held my hand. She reminded me that I was loved in a way that only a mother can. She watched as her baby birthed her own baby.

This time was different. She wasn't there... and nothing... and no one could replace or change this unfortunate reality. However, I believe that it was no coincidence that during my birth with Jedi, I was surrounded by love. I truly believe that every woman that was present, represented a special part of my mother... her motherhood... her protection... her sense of humor... her focus... her laughter. All of it was there in that room... in different forms... but ever present.

When I look at this photo, I am reminded that somehow... someway within the deficit, there is still abundance. Within my mothers absence, I was surrounded by such an abundance of love.  
 

Sada's Story of Birth and Loss

I lost my mom when I needed her the most... There. I’ve finally admitted it. And this is the first time I have. I’ve lost count of how many drafts I’ve started to share my story but I think this will be the last one. The grieving process is such an indescribable journey and it’s a journey that I’ve chosen to navigate internally. Releasing what I can to God and no one else. I’ve made the decision to be strong...like my mother. People keep telling me I don’t have to be strong, but I want to be. My mother was the queen of telling me to “get it together” and I love being able to be a strong woman, standing tall in the midst of pain, just like my mother did during her battle with cancer. That strength that she had, is in me. And it makes me feel good to know that I’m strong like her. It keeps me connected. It’s what helps me get through each moment... and each day... right now. 

Not too many people knew that I was going through the happiest and saddest time of my life this year. In my opinion, I truly learned how beautiful life is and how fragile life is in the most personal way possible. I was blessed to have a life, my first child,  growing inside of my womb, all while watching the one who birthed me, fight for her life and transition from this earth. It was an experience and a season that I can’t find words to describe. But through the grace of God I’ve made it to a place of peace. And not only have I made it but I’m doing okay...

My mother passed away when I began my eighth month of pregnancy. And for the sake of my unborn child, I chose to “get it together.” I didn’t want my child to be to feel a great amount of sorrow and pain. I didn’t want my child to be born to a "sad mother."  I prayed that I didn’t experience postpartum depression and tapped into the power of supernatural strength and peace. I have a grip on it so tight and don’t plan on ever letting go. I’m able to embrace the beauty of motherhood... It makes me feel a connection with my mom.  Longing to make my mother proud, doing things that she did for me, keeps her light bright for me. Everything she taught me, Everything she showed me, I am now able to give to my son, and that makes me feel so much joy. My mother taught me that the Joy of the Lord is my strength and I’ve learned to enjoy my husband, my child, my family, my son and the memories of my mom. And because I stepped out on faith, giving myself permission to enjoy this life I’ve been blessed with, I’ve gained strength. Not only have I gained strength, but I’ve also gained Peace that passes all understanding.

I’m not claiming to have things figured out. I’m not claiming that I don’t have quiet days or moments of tears. The journey is unpredictable... I just take things one day at a time. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this new normal, and I know it will take a lifetime. But as I grow, I’m learning about who I am as a daughter, as a sister, as a wife and as a mother. I am my mother’s legacy and I will dedicate my journey of motherhood and womanhood to her. My mother, Ileana Watson, was a bright light that brightened up many lives. And I am forever thankful that I was blessed to be her daughter. 

Birthing Little Women... with Anjelica Malone

On the morning of Valentine’s day 2015 my husband Brett and I were most likely two of the first people in America to awake. He was anxiously dressing for a half-marathon he didn’t train for and I was eagerly awaiting the arrival of our second daughter. 

I’d just had my last prenatal appointment a day or two beforehand with my midwife Teresa, and she told me to settle in. She predicted that this Little Woman #2 was probably getting more cozy womb-side than her older sister did. Though she told me this, my body said otherwise.

As my husband scooped up our Little Woman #1 to load her into the car, her honey blonde curls and caramel toned limbs draped over his shoulders. We were headed to the starting line before it was even 4am. 

I remember gazing up at the vast navy blue morning sky dusted with luminescent constellations and feeling a small twinge. I didn’t want to throw Brett off his game anymore than he already was. He would have 13.1 miles to think about whatever last words I said to him in this moment. And I didn’t think they should be, “Love, I think today is the day where you will need to do repetitive hip squeezes, heated back massages, and then catch our second daughter.”  So I stayed mum and put the keys in the ignition. 

As I rode back home with my sleepy girls, one inside me and the other behind me, I prepared myself for the day’s events. I reminded myself to take each moment as it came and to go on with my day as if nothing exciting were going to happen. 

Once home, Little Woman #1 and I snuggled back into bed. About an hour later I set a chair out in our front driveway to watch the runners pass. Brett told me the day before that he’d be looking for me along the route. So, I made sure to be there. 

By the time he came racing by I had felt a few more twinges. I simply smiled knowingly, waved, and cheered him on as my night vision pierced the darkness. 

Another hour or so passed and I loaded myself back into the car to pick Brett up at the finish line. I had fixed my hair into tight French rolls accented with a bright pink scrap of fabric. I wore my favorite silky teal kimono, secured firmly above my belly and headed out.  By this time the twinges were becoming twangs of pain. 

As Brett made his way to the finish line, my daughter and I cheered and ran to give him a huge hug and kiss. He quickly began recapping on the entire race. How he felt as though he would collapse just moments before seeing us and how he got a major cramp during the last mile that slowed him down by at least 20 minutes. 

We hopped into the car and I spill the beans. The look on his face is pure shock. We’d discussed previously that this might happen. That he’d possibly be up before the sun, run one of the most intense races he’s ever done, and then head home to find out today is the day. But of course, he never suspected that it would come true! 

As we headed back into the house I felt myself relax (kind of) and give in that this was labor. Around noon I was fully embracing each pull and stretch of my uterus. We prepared lunch, ate, and all laid in bed. About two hours into our siesta my body told me to get up. I grabbed my laptop and turned on my favorite Pandora station, WorldBeat Radio. I swayed at our kitchen counter with all the lights turned off, with only the glow of the laptop. Every so often I’d squat down and take some deep breaths. I sipped water and focused on relaxing my face and jaw.

This was how I wanted to labor. In quiet, peaceful, security. My family was lying soundly in bed, no one was observing me, and I was under the spell of the Gypsy Kings. 

Around 3pm my husband arose and we began to make small talk. He knew that I didn’t want to talk about the obvious. I would ask for help when I was ready. He secretly called our midwife to tell her my status. 

About an hour later I decide to step into our shower as I notice more intense surges of pressure begin to strap me in. I transition between squatting and cat cowing beneath the hot spray of the shower and the relief is magical. I call my husband in to time the contractions and he does his best. At the same time I ask him to begin timing, I ask for him to do lower back counter pressure. 

After about 30 minutes of this, he whispers that he thinks we should head to the birth center. I refuse. I want to be sure that it’s time. He gives in to my request for about another 10 minutes and then strongly encourages me to get into the car. He and Little Woman #1 will be waiting there for me, he says. I do a series of about 5 loopty-loos between the front door and the toilet before he finally takes me by the hand and puts me in the car. 

As we head down our bumpy island road I feel my body squeezing my insides like a tube of toothpaste in regular unrelenting intervals. With each pulse I arch my back over our center console and my husband steps harder on the gas. 

We arrive at the birth center to the smiling face of my doula. She ushers me out of the car and my husband grabs our daughter. 

I crouch down low at the nurse’s station and my midwife gives a knowing glance. Without hesitation I’m taken into the room we chose ahead of time and within minutes I’m squatted in front of the bathroom toilet. Someone has offered my older girl some Trisquits and she snacks as she waits. My husband washes his hands and I give about 3 strong pushes. As my eyes are closed I hear everyone cheer. I look down and there she is. Her soft gluey skin resting inside her papa’s strong callused hands.  I’m stunned. I thought I had so much longer to go. I sit down right there on the floor and the lights are dimmed low. The four of us huddle in close together and tears stream down my face. I thank my husband, midwife, and the staff for their gentleness. 

After about 30 minutes we all head to the comfy queen-sized bed inside the room. Brett and Little Woman #1 both take off their shirts. Little Woman #2 balls up tightly next to her papa’s chest and her proud sister leans in to give her a kiss. I gaze over at our new family and the charming place where we all met. 

“This is how birth should be” , I tell myself.