As I labored it crossed my mind that natural chick birth is of course a chick that can come out of it's shell alone. So what of the birth of Elvis? My chickie who was hatching just fine and then hours later a bad egg popped, coating her shell with it's contents that then dried creating a seal that she was not able to break through.
I woke up excited to see her that morning only to find her in distress and so proceeded to peel the egg around her. As my laboring hours increased Elvis' situation kept coming to mind in feverish waves. We had planned for months on a water birth and finally found a birthing center in the area to make it happen. A day after our due date we found out that the center had to temporarily close for births. I panicked but that night my steadfast husband began to prepare our home for a homebirth. I became excited about it and all was in place for our magical day.
My contractions began after midnight on Tuesday morning. I labored at home with my husband, midwife and doula unaware of the passing of time or really anything at all. I entered laborland and was gone. However, much like Elvis in her sealed egg, I encountered my own obstacle. It was now the wee hours of Wednesday morning and I began to lose energy. I had been awake since Monday morning 9am or so. The homebirth dream had to be abandoned as we drove to the hospital an hour away. I knew what would happen there, exactly what we had been trying to avoid. While there I made several last attempts to birth naturally, and coming so close, but I was beyond exhausted as was my husband and birthing team. So I threw in the towel and conceded to a c-section.
An epidural was administered and all my contractions disappeared, no more rolling waves of pain, no more laborland. I was now aware of my body and how fatigued it was, my thoughts left the feverish, spinning, abstract images of laborland and I fell back into my head. I was on the operating table, arms strapped and among my many thoughts there was one of Elvis, her birth was basically chickie c-section, cut out of her shell that morning by me.
Now five days later I have come to terms with the hospital birth and c-section we were trying to avoid, it fades away. WWe didn't have the private, magical event we were seeking in the way we had imagined it. The laboring done at home remains. I choose to hold on to those memories. Once again, all I had to do was look back on my flock to shed comforting wisdom on the situation. Without unnatural assistance, Elvis could have made it or not. I could ponder outcomes on both sides but there is no point. Elvis' birth changed my perspective on my own baby's birth. There is beauty in the struggle to be born, every entry into the world a
I woke up excited to see her that morning only to find her in distress and so proceeded to peel the egg around her. As my laboring hours increased Elvis' situation kept coming to mind in feverish waves. We had planned for months on a water birth and finally found a birthing center in the area to make it happen. A day after our due date we found out that the center had to temporarily close for births. I panicked but that night my steadfast husband began to prepare our home for a homebirth. I became excited about it and all was in place for our magical day.
My contractions began after midnight on Tuesday morning. I labored at home with my husband, midwife and doula unaware of the passing of time or really anything at all. I entered laborland and was gone. However, much like Elvis in her sealed egg, I encountered my own obstacle. It was now the wee hours of Wednesday morning and I began to lose energy. I had been awake since Monday morning 9am or so. The homebirth dream had to be abandoned as we drove to the hospital an hour away. I knew what would happen there, exactly what we had been trying to avoid. While there I made several last attempts to birth naturally, and coming so close, but I was beyond exhausted as was my husband and birthing team. So I threw in the towel and conceded to a c-section.
An epidural was administered and all my contractions disappeared, no more rolling waves of pain, no more laborland. I was now aware of my body and how fatigued it was, my thoughts left the feverish, spinning, abstract images of laborland and I fell back into my head. I was on the operating table, arms strapped and among my many thoughts there was one of Elvis, her birth was basically chickie c-section, cut out of her shell that morning by me.
Now five days later I have come to terms with the hospital birth and c-section we were trying to avoid, it fades away. WWe didn't have the private, magical event we were seeking in the way we had imagined it. The laboring done at home remains. I choose to hold on to those memories. Once again, all I had to do was look back on my flock to shed comforting wisdom on the situation. Without unnatural assistance, Elvis could have made it or not. I could ponder outcomes on both sides but there is no point. Elvis' birth changed my perspective on my own baby's birth. There is beauty in the struggle to be born, every entry into the world a