the birthing of alba mae

From the beginning, this pregnancy seemed so much the same, yet so distinctly different all at once.

I didn't get sick, I wasn't too turned away by my favorite foods, I had occasional heartburn here and there and overall, was able to relax and enjoy the experience.  What was strange was how differently I was carrying - having been told more times than I could count that I had looked as if I had "swallowed a basketball".  I think I was persuaded a few times in my head that maybe this was different, maybe it really was a baby boy.  Yet still, in my heart I had an overwhelming intuition I would be holding another little girl in my arms, someone so very similar to her sister yet so distinctly different all at once.

My little may flower.

Saturday night, the air was warm and sticky.  Sofia, Erick and I read stories by a big window fan in her room trying to distract ourselves from the heat in our upstairs apartment.  We finally caught the ice cream truck in time and Sofia ordered her first cone from this neighborhood novelty - vanilla with sprinkles (of course!)  That night I had felt an incredible urge to go the bathroom and stay there.  I had started having contractions, not much stronger than the Braxton Hicks I would have on a regular basis and still very inconsistant.  I had my hopes up, but shortly after the contractions had died down and we all went to bed.

I woke up the next day feeling an overwhelming sense of calm.  I woke unhurried, ate a large breakfast and headed off to work.  Making it through the days became increasingly difficult and I was happy the moment I was able to clock-out and head home.  Erick had gone to see an action movie with one of the 'guys' so, naturally Sofia and I had a date of our own, cuddled on the couch watching the most cliché chick flick a pregnant mama could watch: What To Expect When You're Expecting. It was perfect. While she usually has been transitioning to her big-girl bed, I felt the need to cuddle my little girl.  The movie ended, we headed to bed and shortly after Erick had joined us and we snuggled warm together.

Around 4:00 AM, I woke to cramping.

This was immediately different, as I had never awoken from any type of pain in my pregnancy before.  The cramps seemed mild and period-like and continued on like this for another hour.  At 5:00 in the morning I had decided to get up and try to use the bathroom, when I had wiped, I saw blood and quickly realized that labor was imminent.  I woke Erick up with the biggest smile on my face and told him "this was it, we could be having our baby soon!" not sure whether it would be today or tomorrow, but I knew it was time.  I couldn't sleep.  I took a photo of my sleeping Sofia, wrote a blog post, washed the last of my baby linens in natural detergent, soaking up every sweet smell and imagining our newborn swaddled tightly in my arms.  The cramping continued and so did my urge to clean.  My dishes were washed, my stove and sink bleached, my energy levels soared to heights I hadn't seen in 39 weeks.  I was alert and calm.

I brewed a piping hot pour-over of my favorite Uganda beans and lit incense.  I focused my attention inwards, staying in tune with every change my body was experiencing.  Erick woke up for work and asked if he should leave. Thinking I would have a few hours of early labor before contractions got intense, I sent him on his way.  I cooked breakfast for Sofia and tried to rest.  Not long after Erick had left, the cramping had turned into distinct contractions and I decided to phone the midwife on call.  In the time she had talked to me, I had two contractions I was unable to talk through and was advised to start packing my bags and get ready to head in.

I drew a warm bath and immediately requested Erick come home from work.  It was around 9:00AM.  While the bath was filling up, the contractions started coming every 5 minutes and Sofia watched as I breathed deeply, clutching to whatever was in sight. While trying to undress, a few contractions had brought me to the ground on all fours, focusing deeply to ride out each wave. Sofia naturally did what any toddler would do, and climbed on my back as I was on the ground looking exactly like we were about to play "horsey" and then promptly told me to "giddy up!"

It took all the strength I had, but I laughed. My girl.

She joined me in the tub, quiet moments in the morning her and I.  She took her teacup and gently poured water over my belly as I quietly breathed. We held on to each other, embraced in the warm water and I closed my eyes.  I was doing this exactly as I had always imagined I would.  I had the most important person in the world taking care of me.

Erick came home and got Sofia dressed and ready to see Abuela, and I spent the next moments trying to pull myself from the comforting buoyancy of the water.

Getting dressed seemed impossible, as did mentally checking-off my list of things not to forget when heading to the hospital.

It was sometime after 10:30 in the morning, I had kissed Sofia goodbye silently between some of my strongest contractions yet.  We headed into the car in what seemed like the longest 30 minute drive to the hospital.  Every bump in the road, every red light was a mental challenge I had to make my way through.  At one point in the car I remember looking over to Erick and telling him straight to his face "I don't think I can do this," to which he replied without hesitation, "Yes baby you can. You were made to do this."

We pulled up to the hospital valet and my contractions were coming three minutes apart.  Though I'm not much of a runner, I expect this is what those last few miles of the marathon feel like - talking to yourself in your head and reminding yourself you can make it through, yet physically pacing yourself to the finish line.  Erick must've known the way I had flung my arms around his shoulders and leaned deep into each pain, eyes closed, breathing deeply and nearly silent.  Focused.

The nurses in triage were asking me every question imaginable, I had to sign papers, photocopy my ID and insurance card, get weighed, take off my clothing.  The next set of contractions I was feeling were intense, my deep and quiet breaths had turned into audible low noises like my body was pushing air out of my lungs.  This was different.  I didn't think it was physically possible to walk anywhere else, to get myself on a table for my internal exam to see just how much progress I had made laboring at home.

A complete 10 centimeters.

If I wasn't so completely inward focusing on my body, I would have hugged and kissed the nurse who just told me.

The next few minutes were a blur. Nurses everywhere were rushing around me speaking about how we needed to get me to a room - and quickly.  I started making those same primal noises during my contractions and I realized my body was involuntarily pushing.  Moving our baby closer and closer to this earth.  My eyes stayed closed as I felt the air caress my face as I was wheeled quickly down the hall.  On the way to our delivery room I was told to pant like a puppy if I didn't want to have my baby in an elevator.  I wanted to listen, but my body had already known what to do and was following through in its plans.  There was no time for a waterbirth, no time for a tub.

Soon I heard the soft, sweet voice of my midwife Carol telling me the hard work was over, that it was time. She told me our baby had a beautiful set of hair. I smiled.

They dimmed the lights, I held on to Erick's hand tightly and at 11:36 in the morning, only a half hour after barely arriving to the hospital, she was born.  She was a girl, a beautiful baby girl.  Our Alba Mae. Perfectly pink, vernix coating the ends of her thick hair with the sweetest cry I had ever heard. They placed her naked on my chest and I told her over and over how much I loved her.  Erick and I kept looking at each other in complete shock at how fast it had all happened.  I asked him if I was dreaming, the rising and falling chest on top of my own reminded me that I wasn't.

I finally understand why some women describe their births as blissful or joyous.  There is no doubt that I was in pain during my later contractions, but as a whole, it was a mental and physical challenge I found to be strangely enjoyable and positively rewarding. High on the magical hormones of motherhood, I was determined to be home in my own bed as soon as they'd allow it - we spent one magical night watching the sunrise in our beautiful hospital recovery room, and once we all checked out healthy, we immediately headed to our nest. Ready to start our lives together.

Recovery has been a dream, almost too good to be true. I am free of pain and positively glowing. Sofia is adjusting beautifully, just as I knew she would. She has the biggest heart, and one that has seemed to double in size for her new baby "seester".

Our two beautiful girls, our hearts outside of our bodies.

Living, breathing miracles.

more photos