BIRTH STORIES

Abram's Birth
January 21, 2000

    Abram, my youngest (fifth) baby was born high up in the beautiful and serene Clearwater Mountains of northern Idaho. I was 41 years old. A few years of family changes and responsibilities had taken me away from midwifery practice.  We had a very experienced country midwife nearby who would know what to do. And if she couldn't get there, well, I would.

    I was adding a log of old, fallen ridge cedar to the wood stove. The delicious scent made me feel dreamy. That morning I just floated around the cabin, making things ready for my new baby and even took a hike in the snow with Jacob, who was then 3 1/2 years. Big Cedar Creek crossed our forested acres. Our dear old friend, Melody, was already romping along the icy water, as Golden Retrievers often do. But when we starting walking, she kept pressing close to my side instead of her usual way of running a little ahead and then back to us. Of course, she knew, having been a mother of many herself.

    And then there was that feeling, oh so familiar, of rhythmic vibrations all through my hips and pelvic area. Yes! This is it! It's today! With an odd fusion of excitement and calmness rejuvenating my spirit, I threw an extra blanket in the truck and took Jacob down the mountain to get some supplies.

    We stopped at the little post office first and found a letter waiting from a pregnant midwife friend who recently moved to Montana. She wrote that her contractions had just begun as she was writing the letter. I was happy for my friend and her ninth baby. Her words inspired an increasing awareness that my own labor had indeed begun.

    In the town grocery store, there were knowing looks from several of the long time homebirthers in the area as I glowed my way through the aisles. Jacob had his usual happy grin for everyone.

    Suddenly, right at the check-out counter, came a real, old-fashioned contraction that gave need for pause and deep breaths. The folks who ran the store were mostly related to each other, so comments and jokes flew while I blushed and said no thank you to the offer of getting help. Mr. Pankey himself came out from behind the meat counter and said, "Well, you can have it here but it'll be a little different than what I usually do." I raised my eyebrows at him jokingly, which made the poor fellow yelp "oh, no" as he ran back behind the counter.

    I was happily embarassed but wondered why my quiet attempts at being discrete had not succeeded. Well, I thought, at least the other customers didn't have to know -- that is, until someone got on the loudspeaker...

    Leaving the little store amidst their well wishes and more good-natured comments, I asked someone to follow my truck up the mountain and then to go and get the midwife who lived farther uphill.

    About half an hour later, I was curled up with Jacob on a mat in front of the warm fire, and then "pop"! Good thing there was already a towel under me. I checked the color of the fluids. All looked and felt well. Yet I was glad the midwife was on her way.

    Giving Jacob a happy hug and warming up the bath were next...then singing cheerful hymns...then ooooohhhhh....things were already moving right along....

    I remember focusing my thoughts on the soft bubbling sound of the creek outside the window, when the sounds turned to more powerful deep oooohhh-ings. I was very happy to hear footsteps crunching in the snow and then soft voices coming near. In came the midwife -- with two women acquaintances! Shortly thereafter, another friend and her daughter who lived much farther away, came trotting in not a moment too soon! I was delighted to be surrounded by tender support, yet surprised as I had thought the circumstances were going to require toughing it out alone again.

    I knelt and leaned over the bed, ready to receive my baby from womb into joyful embrace -- just a few more deep tones -- louder -- then -- we all started giggling at what happened next... Little Jacob, in his innocent helpfulness near his mommy's shoulder, was joining in with "Mmmooooo...Mmmooooo!"

    Well, laughing did make it hurt some but I wouldn't have traded that moment for anything.

    Then more intense. All became serious. My bones in front felt creaky this time around. I reached down and held my baby's head for a moment -- somehow that seemed to be the only way to get him past these old bones. "I don't remember this being so hard to do...oooohhhhh....", I moaned. "You can do this", was all my midwife said and all I needed to hear at that point.

    I thanked God, the midwife, the women who helped; I thanked little Jacob for being such a wonderful moo-er. And I thanked my baby for coming into our lives.

    What a joy and relief to finally hold a bright and happy Abram in my arms! Jacob gently presented his little brother with a soft kitten dolly. We curled up to caress our new joy together and welcomed Abram...while we listened to the creek, bubbling its delight along with our sweet baby.

copyright 2008 - 2009



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