By Sybil Young

Elinor is my fourth child and my third WBWC delivery: due 8/1/2017 and born 7/25/2017. This was an unplanned and unexpected pregnancy that was stressful simply because I was woefully unprepared to add another little to my trio. My third was only 18 months old when I learned I was expecting, and as a mom accustomed to a very comfortable 4 year gap between kids this terrified me and absolutely destroyed my husband’s nerves. Poor Mary Lucile (my third) just wasn’t ready to be ousted yet! I settled into our reality, and accepted that I would be embarking on another 42 week metamorphosis into a sleep deprived, cranky blimp.

I just knew I would be carrying this little one well past my due date just like her brother and sisters. However, this little darling took pity on me. The morning of July 24th I just didn’t feel great. My Braxton Hicks had been intense for weeks, and I had developed a fabulous penguin waddle thanks to the cranium lodged in my pelvis. I timed my contractions and they were coming regularly every 7-10 minutes. I took a bath and expected my contractions to stop. They didn’t. So I drank a bucket of water. No stopping. Not to be convinced that my body could possibly be ready to eject my little passenger, I headed to work. All morning I was certain I was peeing on myself, convinced that the same little head causing my deep waddle was squashing my bladder into oblivion, rendering me incontinent.

Oh sweet denial! After consulting with Belinda, at the urging of the nurse practitioner and physician I work with, it was decided that I was not losing my bladder function but in fact was leaking amniotic fluid like a slow draining bathtub. After being given the option to wait it out or come in for some “midwifey magic” I chose the latter, excited that I could for once arrive at the birth center before transition! I made the calls, distributed my kids to various places, and headed to Chapel Hill. I was so nervous as this was the first time I was going to be laboring for longer than an hour or two at the birth center; I had always come at the last moment with my other babies and was in transition by the time I waddled through doors.

We arrived at WBWC at 5:30 that evening and were met by the incomparable and amazing Belinda. It was a new world! I walked through the doors without stopping every three steps through gripping contractions. I could actually take in my surroundings! Wait, there’s a kitchen!? And desks?! What is this place!? I was the sole occupant and had my choice of rooms, and was able to choose the Blue Room where all my other little ones made their debut to the world. After confirming my leaky hoo-ha, and checking my cervix (a 4.5!) Belinda gave me a concoction of midwifey things in juice and castor oil to get things moving along. I chugged the greasy cocktail like an enthusiastic frat boy and readied myself for an exciting evening of GI surprises. Despite my expectations of some sort of toilet Armageddon, I only had to visit the rest room a few times, score!

For some reason my iPhone decided that Abbey Road would best provide the musical inspiration I needed to get through this delivery. My husband couldn’t manage to start my carefully curated play-list, and so I hummed and swayed and danced through the Beatles until I could sway no more. Sweet and sainted Belinda ran a bath where I would labor and wallow around for the remainder of my active labor, surrounded by my sweet husband, mom, and auntie who obligingly listened as I cracked self-deprecating jokes and tried out new swear words.

The nurses let me do my thing for several hours, and things began to get real (as these things inevitably do).  I remember just quietly breathing and humming low with each wave, all the while thinking “I am NEVER doing this again”. All of a sudden, bloody show! I instinctively felt for my cervix and holy baby head, Batman. Midwife to the rescue! 10 centimeters, 10 beautiful and blessed centimeters. These wonderful women hauled my massive bulk out of the pool and helped me shuffle to my go-to: the birthing stool. As I made the trip I reminded my family that, “Hey, this is quite the sensation, did you guys know I’m never doing this again??”

Let me just say, counter pressure is everything. Counter pressure is heaven. Without counter pressure I felt for certain I would die. The back labor was intense and the nurses were so tolerant and obliging as I begged for hip squeezes.

I can labor about with the best of them, heck, I almost enjoy it, but when it comes to pushing I am a big wimpy and whiney baby. Thank goodness for gravity and a fabulous midwife. Belinda helped me breathe my little stranger down and down, reassuring me as I lamented my weenie efforts that I was almost there, and all of the sudden, crowning! Ah ha! I remembered this feeling and I knew I could do it. Belinda told me the bag of waters was still intact and she might be en caul, but unfortunately for Belinda I’m just as bad at holding back that primal urge that comes with crowning as I am at pushing. One big push, a super soaker splash (sorry Belinda!) and then there was my sweet girl. It was 1:30 AM when I reached down and pulled her up into my arms, all warmth and wetness: my last baby. Time stood still: bliss. Elinor means “a light”, and oh, she truly is that.  Looking at that face, just like with all the others, all the pain and wackiness was gone as mother nature did her trick with oxytocin/endorphine cocktails to convince me that, yeah, I guess I could do this again.

Rebeca took over shortly after and helped me through some not-so-fun hemorrhaging. She was amazing: calm, capable, and absolutely compassionate and thorough in her care. The nurses were swift in assisting me when things were getting weird, and I appreciated Rebeca’s direct and respectful dialogue when explaining to me what was happening. Not once did I feel like a number or nameless body, but an active participant in my care and experience.

My labor was hard, painful, blissful and beautiful; supported by an awesomely badass group of women who just stepped back and empowered me do my thing, and then provided me with top-notch medical intervention when I needed it. I am so grateful to have been able to bring my darlings into the world on my own terms. Because of this, WBWC occupies an abiding and cherished space in my heart. It is so bittersweet that my birthing experiences are over, but I am so thrilled that I have been fortunate enough to have access to this amazing model of care over the last 10 years.