Birth Story part 4

He was handed to me in the inflatable tub, I reached for him and brought him to my chest. My memory doesn’t serve me if his cries were loud, but I recall his noises being perfect and each person smiled in pride. He looked right at me, and he looked… like a baby! He was a full grown, no vernix, no blood, plump, but tiny, baby. I either thought or said out loud, “he’s beautiful”. As I remembered my physical support was Jeff, I leaned back again to receive my first kiss as a family of three. 

He arrived at 6:55am. We quite literally started hearing morning birds outside the window as he arrived. The sun was blessing the window blinds.

I personally love sunrise, and for my son to be born at sunrise, felt the definition of perfect. (Not to mention I had been calling him Sonny/sunny in utero).

From here, as I’ve attended dozens of home-births assisting both the mamas and the midwives, I knew the routine. Once I felt ready, I stepped out of the birth tub tenderly, as I held my new, wet, tiny prize. As many babies, his cord was short and I couldn’t bring him up high on my chest, so I was delicate to keep him low. I lay on my bed and I think to myself, “I know this part. I can’t believe I get to nurse my baby.” 

After having supported so many births, there are parts that I have longed for myself. 

That first latch, 

that first shower, 

that first meal. 

These are moments I’ve dreamt of.

That first latch as you stare your delicate newborn in the eyes and support their greatest desire and the greatest service you can offer them.

That first shower after a “job well done”, with a body exhausted, a mind relieved, and a heart so full.

That first meal, when you think, “oh man, do I deserve this” and your understanding of food as medicine goes beyond explanation. 

I have watched countless women at each of these milestones in “Aw” and admiration. 

Baby boy had a significant hematoma (bruise) on his head, and this bruise was not ‘perfectly’ centered over the vertex of his head. This implies his head was tilted while traveling down the birth path.

Clinically, this is referred to as acyclinic. It is a variation of normal, and relatively common. However.. if preventable, it makes the passage down the birth path much easier.

After seeing his head shape and bruise, it was now obvious why the “pushing” stage took several hours, and why the guttural noises my body was making were necessary. Some women experience fetal ejection reflex and don’t need to bare down so much during their birth phase of their labor.

I put the word pushing in quotations because I was not pushing voluntarily. My body was baring down, and it felt as if my body would have done this even without my participation. (However, my participation made it much more manageable!).

Hearing that I ‘pushed’ for nearly 5 hours can sound out-of-this-world. Sort of like hearing someone was in labor for 36 hours. However, time is elusive in these moments, you enter another world that does not count the seconds or minutes the way we do in our reality. Or at least this is how I can best explain it. I did not feel like it lasted that long..

It also feels important to denote that if you are familiar with ‘purple pushing’ in hospitals, this is not at all what the ‘pushing’ phase of most home birth looks like. As a matter of fact, that type of pushing is purposely avoided for many reasons, and has gained popularity because of epidural use. Women who can’t feel the contractions or “know” when to push, need to be guided and simply ‘PUSH’ their babies out. BUT… in my experience, this has never been needed for home births. With sensation intact, and the mind at ease, the body takes over and does the “pushing” on its own. My situation was one of those exceptions where my participation was recruited… and this is entirely more common for those giving birth for their first time.

Birth Story part 3

At this point, I’m in the inflatable tub, the midwife and midwifery student flutter into the room on occasion to listen to babies heart tones and my vitals. My husband sits on the bed beside the tub, taking in all the magic that is this moment. I’m occasionally asking for water, and needing a homemade popsicle at all times, coconut water or herbal nettle and red raspberry blend. My contractions come on strong and take over my entire body. I’m channeling my breath as I’ve practiced and been taught. And at the end of each breath cycle, there is a guttural noise that sounds out of this world. To deny our animal tendencies in this moment would be absurd. I was pure lion, or bear, rumbling the floor with my bellows. They were not screeches, or yelps. There was no desperation or concern. It was pure power channeling through my vessel that I had absolutely no control over.

I want to insert some wisdom and reality by emphasizing the innate animal we each are. During labor, it is highly likely one will evacuate their bowels, aka poop. For those whom have assisted home births, part of your “duty” is to collect the doody as it finds its way into the tub, the floor, the bed. This can seem eventful as you read it, or as one relays a story, but in the moment, when you are waiting for a BABY, poop is the furthest thing from “eventful”. More often than not, this is collected, cleaned, swiped-away, more for the laboring mamas dignity. Many women feel conscious of their bowels, but if you are “holding back” even in the slightest, this is you holding back your baby. It’s important to let go of any fear of this process, and consider it simply part of the process. Your baby's head is literally swiping by the lower bowels and forcing this elimination.

Okay, that preface was for this part of my birth story. As small amounts of poo found their way in the tub and were readily collected with literally a small fish net… at one point I found myself startled as I backed into what I thought was a LARGE poo floating!, but in reality it was the end of my black theracane… (rigid plastic S-shaped massage tool). You can imagine the laughter and startle of the situation. The brevity of this moment at least allowed for an additional dusting of harmony and solace, as it lightened the unfolding story a tad further. Especially since the theracane was needing to combat a muscle spasm that would happen with each contraction. I am unsure if this was my psoas or quadrates lumborum, but it would tighten to such a degree, I felt nearly immobilized. I used visualization here, and told myself the sensation was literally my sons body pushing against my lower back. I ‘knew’ this wasn’t true, but with each surge, I would visualize the his back pressing firmly into mine, and it would allow me acceptance of the discomfort, and therefore, comfort.

It was now nearly 4:30am. My grunting had gotten even louder and more intense, and so the midwife offered to check me again to ensure babies head was past the cervix. It was as if every muscle in my core in synchrony would contract, forcing breath out of me in a deep grunt. I agreed to the check, as I have witnessed mamas pushing “too early” against a swollen cervix. I reminded her that if my water had yet to break, to please not rupture my membranes (this was very important for me).

I also informed her, that with each contraction, I could feel “something” poking my fingers. The midwife checked and without hesitation, confirmed my babies head was “right there”. I was “good to go”. This was good news since I had already been “pushing” for sometime!

I was then delivered “good” and “bad” news… the bad news was that this midwife had just been called to one of her own clients births…! This is absolutely unheard of! That would be the fourth baby that night. And on a full moon I would say we can make sense of this, but this evening was a new moon, no light to be seen. The good news, was that MY midwife had finished up with her previous birth and was able to come to me!

As I continued following my bodies lead, feeling my babies head slowwwwwwly descend, the midwives swapped places. I was so grateful to have my midwife there, as we have years of history together and for us not to get to share this moment would have broken my heart. I kept mentioning that the head would disappear after a contraction. I knew well enough this was physiologically normal, a babies head descends during the “push” and then “retreats” a bit before descending again, ‘paving the way’ if you will. Though I knew this was normal and appropriate, as the laboring mama, this was incredibly frustrating. I would feel so satisfied in my contraction/surge with how far baby would travel, only to feel like I lost what I had gained.

As with many labors, babies heart rate was decelerating during contractions. Often times a position change can remedy this, but other times, you simply want to deliver baby to prevent prolonged low oxygen supply. So here I am, trying to follow my bodies lead and in this (honestly) blissful state, but also urging baby to “come along now” to prevent oxygen deprivation, and I’m beginning to stretch…

As I felt the burning, I tried to pace myself to slow down his decent, but also encourage stretching with breath work. I circled and gently rubbed his head, and tried my best to prevent tearing.

I can honestly say, my birth was not painful up until this point. The ring of fire was an initiation beyond comprehension. It was slow, but it went fast. It was painful, but I felt so powerful. It slowly revealed its potential as I claimed several times, “oh that’s what it feels like”, only to be revealed a newer depth of my understanding. At one point, I screamed “my clitoris”, as I proclaimed it was going to tear. I was reassured that was only the sensation but not the reality. I supported myself, needing to triple check on these tissues. I slowed my breath and had faith in the process.

I had planned to catch my own baby, or perhaps Jeff would. This was the vision and the comfortable plan. But as I expanded, and stretched, and grew, and stretched some more, I no longer felt confident that I could prevent tearing on my own, and I wanted support with my perineum. I recruited the midwife to guide baby boys head out.

And eventually, “his head is out!” I was told. With both my hands occupied as I leaned back on them onto Jeff. I thought… “but I feel no relief”. And with that thought, I gave the first and only forced push the entire labor to get this baby out, and out he came! 

Birth Story part 2

Beautiful chorus soundtrack on, lights off, red light on, draw bath, initiate breath work techniques. It’s so hard to gauge how long labor will be, and I found myself averse to keeping time of my contractions, as it felt too soon to do so. However, I’m grateful my best friend was keeping track, and informed me they were every 3 minutes, but ranging from 30-50 seconds.. I couldn’t make sense of this in the moment.. was that worthy of phoning the midwife? (Typically we call when contractions are every 4 minutes, lasting 1 minute long, after an hour of this pace..).

I labored in the bath tub at home until 1:30am. Sometime around midnight I requested the inflatable birthing tub be filled with hot water. I could appreciate the home tub, but it was not very conducive to the positions I wanted to be in. It is always a tricky decision to gauge when to fill the inflatable tub. You don’t want to get into the hot tub “too early” as it could slow labor down. But of course you want to maximize your time in the water and use the analgesic effects when you need them! 

I used my ‘hypnobreathing’ breath work techniques, which kept me “in the zone”. If I felt anything besides calm, I used visualization to return. This would sometimes be visualizing the air circulating and infusing the placenta and uterus with so much oxygen, it could be qi (chi) moving with power to get baby in position to descend, or visualizing my abdomen expanding with each breath to optimize each contraction/surge.

I always knew I would have my hand down by my vulva during labor. But I didn’t realize I would have it there the entire time. This was something I couldn’t have imagined not doing. As I supported my lower self, I felt more grounded, as if literally connecting to a grounding source. I would occasionally insert my fingers to get my bearings of what was happening, and if things were feeling intense, I would provide stimulation to “distract” the sensation and provide further grounding. This is a technique I’ve heard of and read about but never seen in practice. If I were to offer advice, it would be to stay as close and intimate to your body as you can during this process, recognize all the parts of you that are working tirelessly to achieve this goal.

So far, my contractions weren’t painful. I would describe them as immense pressure that overtook me. But in surrendering with mind, utilizing breath and visualization, it was entirely manageable…until…

I eventually said “those last two contractions were a doozy”, and thought to myself, “I am not sure I can keep this up”.  And it was then, around 1:30am, I got nauseous and puked several times. The timing was great, as I was now out of the tub to puke and was told the inflatable tub was ready for me. As I crawled into that tub, I noticed how shaky my body was. 

My professional experience in the birth world had me whispering to myself.. “Is this transition?.. you doubted your ability to go any further, you puked, and now you’re shaking… but this is too soon for transition.. isn’t it?”. I did not want to be foolish in thinking I was further along than I actually was, but every sign was there, so I was keeping it in the back of my mind. 

As I was crawling into the inflatable tub, I demanded we call the midwife and tell her to come then. I could not gauge how far along I was, but I no longer wanted to be “alone”. I called the midwife.. and if you can believe it, she was on her way to another birth! I sincerely thought this had to be a joke, 3 births in one night!! She gave me the option of having a backup midwife head over, or to wait an hour and call her back (as the other mama had a history of fast labors). I opted to call her back in an hour. 

Almost immediately on arrival in the tub, I felt the urge to get out a bowel movement. Now, anyone that knows labor, knows that most often, the signal for the ‘pushing’ stage, is when mama reports she has to poop. But somehow I convinced myself I was different. I knew I hadn’t had a bowel movement all day, so I convinced myself I sincerely had an actual bowel movement I had to clear out so baby could comfortably make his way down…

And so, it turns out I wasn’t comfortable waiting the hour.. and only 20 minutes after hanging up the phone I called my midwife back to request the back up midwife be notified to come over.

This other midwife and her student arrived around 3:30am. I was so grateful to have someone there to support babies delivery. They offered to check me on arrival, but I know better. I know how checking can greatly impact your mental game (not to mention increase your risk of infection) and I didn’t want to be discouraged and so I opted to just continue to listen to my body..

I found my most favorite position was squatting low propped on one knee. I frequently asked for sips of ice cold water at this point, but even more frequently wanted my Popsicle. The coconut water popcicples I had made in advance were so satisfying in these moments. I remember thinking that I didn’t know what I would do without them! I felt this way about the inflatable tub as well..

Birth Story part 1

I was really hoping these sensations were going to dissipate once I rested, prodromal labor or “practice contractions” if you will. And if they were not going to dissolve into nothingness, and if this in fact was labor, I wanted to know as soon as possible so I could really dive into my zen space. 

My zen space was mostly breath work, but also included red lights, and ‘Beautiful Chorus’ playing in the background. This musical choice had now become a ritual of sorts, as I had played it for the several mamas before me whom I supported. This music is not intentionally made for birth, but every single song has you sourcing your power just as much as it has you softening into surrender. It’s the most perfect music I could ever imagine for labor. 

I needed there to be no outside disturbances once I set forth on my zen, hypnobirthing journey.

Around 10:30pm on this Wednesday night, at 40 weeks and 4 days, I told my mom she could head home, and insisted to her, my husband, and best friend, that I just needed to lie down and take a nap. My mom had been over to help me get my birth room set up. This included a banner of photos I had tactfully selected, including my great grandmother who had birthed 6 children (and had an even smaller frame than I), my grandmothers, my mom, photos of our wedding ceremony, and a photo of a sunrise I took while camping in the Everglades on a chickee. And one last hand-drawn note that read “breath baby down” that was intentionally and artfully made for a dear friend during her first birth many years ago.

Earlier that day I had been experiencing an all too familiar pain, round ligament and psoas spasm-pain. This had occurred several times throughout my pregnancy, a consequence of a pelvic sprain resulting in lax ligaments. Around 2pm, As I was enduring this physical set back and pain, I noticed a few “sensations” that felt more in my cervix. I was hopeful this was not the onset of labor as I had already been in such agony for more than 24 hours, including limited sleep the night before. The thought of going into labor in this compromised state, was very disheartening.

I had experienced “bloody show” earlier that morning, which literally was just that, a tiny bit of blood on my underwear when I would use the bathroom. I hadn’t lost my ‘mucus’ plug, and even still, knew that this wasn’t promise labor would be imminent, as it could also imply I had another week before baby.

Needless to say, after my mom left, due to my insistence I was going to lie down, I surrendered to the reality that I was in labor. This story doesn’t start from the beginning because I don’t know when the beginning was. My denial (and hope) was strong. I would confidently say by 6pm I had already experienced several “sensations” that made me suspicious I could be in early labor. But these sensations were nothing compared to my ligament and muscle pain, warranting a mental-several-hour-long debate on if this were actual labor or not.

At 6:30pm I did call my midwife to give her notice I “may” be in labor. She let me know she was on her way to another birth, and to stay in touch with how I progressed. This is very rare, to have two births in one night… so I was even more hopeful I wasn’t in labor. I happily obliged to simply see how I progressed. My experience in the labor world has taught me that first time moms can often call the midwife or head to the hospital “too” soon and believe they are further along than they actually are. This was on my mind as I deliberated calling her in the first place. But alas…

11pm… I’ve surrendered, this is labor. 

The Problem

The problem ..

The baby’s the problem
The mop’s the problem
The alarm clock is the problem
The kettle is the problem
The car is the problem
The bed is the problem
The kid is the problem
The neighbor is the problem
The work is the problem
The mother in law is the problem
The speaker is the problem
The boss is the problem
The washer is the problem
The dog’s the problem

But maybe…

Our expectation of what should be, is the problem.

Our to-do list is the problem
Our inability to forgive is the problem
Our lack of self-love is the problem
Our impatience is the problem
Our insecurity is the problem
Our unresolved trauma is the problem
Our deep-seeded anger is the problem
Our in-alignment is the problem

What’s the solution?

You might find acknowledgement of the “real” problem is all that is needed for dissolution of the “problem”.

Nothing to “fix”.

Just to witness,

And accept,

All that is.

Stillness in the chaos

Stillness is not found in the chaos (unless you’re in a hurricane).

No. Rather you need to CREATE stillness amidst the chaos.

As a matter of fact, you MUST learn to create stillness in the chaos.

Find a way to:

Hit pause
Ask for help
Sit in silence
Take deep breaths
Snuggle
Stare
Sing
Dance
Cry
Journal

Unfortunately, the many ways our culture has evolved to understand stillness, only amplifies the chaos:

News
Social media
Movies
TV
Drinking
Shopping
•••

Conscious
and
Mindful
Activities
allow for deeper wisdom to surface.

You are wise beyond measure.

You know more than you think.

You have the answers.

You just need to create the stillness,
In the chaos.

Sweat Lodge

I did a sweat lodge this past weekend.

This means I joined individuals who created a space to hold a sweat lodge ceremony. Simply put, we sit with hot rocks, under a tent of blankets, to create a hot environment to promote sweating and detoxing of body, and mind.

Traditionally speaking, Native Americans would participate in sweat lodge ceremony for many reasons. This may have been in part as a scheduled ritual or for particular illness or celebrations.

The intention behind sweat lodges is both to physically sweat out toxins and waste, and to mentally discharge toxins and waste. We do the latter through creating community, and we create community through chanting, through song, and through story sharing. These stories may be a legend told over generations, an intuitive sharing, or visions from meditations and the like. Chanting and song create resonance through frequencies, and this can only be understood when experienced. And the sweating, visit any good sauna, and you know what I am talking about.

I’m grateful to have found community unscathed by the criticisms which are commonplace when emulating traditional practices, a community who stays rooted in their purpose to give to the earth, and not take, a community dedicated to serving people and their intimate and often troubled history, and a community, dedicated to exploring the boundaries of the human mind and spirit.

If you find yourself curious about, anything, I dare you to explore. Explore what the spirit calls on and dance in the wind of your mind. You will go, so, so far.

Life's a blur.

Life can be a blur. If you let it.

It can also be:

Poetic
Intentional
Instrumental
Delicious
Educational
Creative
Meaningful

I have recently reflected on how this whole viral episode has me living in “potential” space, just hovering, waiting to pounce.

There has been no obvious cue on when to pounce.

The words I’ve used to describe how I feel...
Observing
Or
Existing.

It’s hard for someone like me to “just” exist.

But wow, how magical, how amazing, to do just that.

My existing is still a rather fast pace, and the extrovert in me thrives off the fuel of others.
(But I’m a lot introvert too)

I am “existing” well, and looking forward to pouncing soon. 🐅

How bout you? Feeling similar “waiting” energy... introvert or extrovert?? Is life a blur right now? Or are you savoring every drop!

Witnessing labor

When I tell people I attend births, they usually assume it’s the babies being born that’s the most exciting part.

But last night I was reminded that though it gives me the thrills to witness such a miracle, it’s even more amazing to witness the power of a mother.

The inner wisdom.

The voice that is found.

The matriarch being birthed at the same time.

The personal cheerleader.

The self motivator.

Reaching down deep and whispering the sweetest and softest words of support…. to yourself?!

“You’ve got this mama.”

“Your body was made for this.”

“I can do this. I will do this.”

“Let’s go baby, let’s do this together.”

“Breathe…”

May we all embrace this deep friendship we have with ourselves.

It's here... the blog.

Sometimes, we set up unrealistic expectations for ourselves. Perhaps we do it out of love, or perhaps we do it out of betrayal. Ultimately, I have every right to express my sincerely apologies for the delay in sharing my musings, my knowledge, and my heart with the world. And simultaneously, I don’t owe anyone, anything. That last sentence is a hard sentence to write for myself. I do wake up each morning feeling as though I owe the world everything. And if I’m being honest, I nearly collapse at the mental list of what needs to be shared, expressed, and understood. The result, is that it is never let out. I rarely share. I rarely write. And so today, I’m writing. But I’m writing for myself. As I dabbled with my website this morning, an interesting observation surfaced, I have everything in pending space. So much of my blog posts, my workshop ideas, my protocols, my crafts, hover in potential energy. But I am right there. I am right at the cusp of exposing and sharing it all and the block, is me. The block, is my expectation of myself. And once I liberate myself from my own expectations, I’m free to just share comfortably, and casually, and out it shall flow, without expectation, time-line, or agenda.

Please don’t hesitate to reach out with what you want to learn. I will share anything from environmentalism, farming, gardening, homesteading, ranching, and of course, all things holistic health and wellbeing.

In love,

Dr. Howell