Silas Aidan's Birth Story

First thing Monday morning, I notice a slight pinkish tinge to my cervical mucous. I immediately think it must be the start of losing my mucous plug. That was my first sign of labour with Ethan. All weekend, previously, I noticed my Braxton Hicks contractions feeling stronger and more constant. And yet, still being two weeks from my due date, these signs don’t make me think labour is near.

Tuesday morning, more pinkish mucous. Every evening now, I’m feeling constant Braxton Hicks. My chiropractor couldn’t even relieve my lower back pain yesterday. That is strange, as he has been consistently keeping my back feeling so great during this pregnancy. Also on Tuesday, I spend most of the morning on my feet, walking. It’s not my intention to move things along, but all my walking downtown with Ethan is more tiring than usual. I feel very crampy in the evening

Tuesday night, I have labour dreams. In all my dreams, I am having crampy, lower back contractions. I am somewhat wakeful, but not enough to get out of bed or fully wake me up. Overall, my sleep is pretty good. As good as any night has been for the last 2 months or so.

Wednesday morning I wake up and am having these lower back contractions every 10 minutes or so. I call my midwife, Colleen, around 8:30 and tell her what’s been happening for the past few days. With contractions this often, I thought things could actually be happening, if not today, then in the next day or so. She tells me to call her back if anything changes. Now, it’s just past 9 and the contractions are coming much faster suddenly, at least every 5 or 6 minutes. They are all in my back. I cannot believe I am having back labour again, I just can’t believe it.

The contractions are strong enough to make me need to vocalize through them. I am so thankful I took a prenatal yoga class and that she taught us some of the low vocalizing that can be helpful in labour. It gives me a focus, something to think about other than the searing pain in my lower back. Ethan hears each one, and I tell him our baby is coming soon and Mommy has to work hard to help the baby come. He starts mimicking the sounds I am making. Here I am, trying to focus, and my almost 4 year old is saying, “Haaaaaaa” right along with me. It makes me laugh and makes the contractions hurt worse. I tell him I have to make those sounds because it helps my back, which is hurting. At one point, I find him on the floor of the living room, moaning, “Oh, my back hurts. I’m working hard, too.” What a great kid.

I call Colleen back and tell her that things have picked up. She says she likes to wait until contractions are consistently 2-4 minutes apart before she comes, but to keep her updated on how I’m feeling and how I’m doing. She says to call Colin, so I do. I’m sure I’ll make it to the end of his school day.

It’s not much longer and I’m starting to feel a little panicky that I am alone. I’m starting to feel like I really need the counter-pressure on my back and someone else there for support. I call Colin back and leave a message. He must be in class. He calls me back and I tell him he should probably come home. He says he’ll be here within the hour. In the meantime, I hop in the shower, hoping to relax a bit. But I don’t want to use too much hot water, since we want to have enough to start filling the pool. Colin comes home while I’m showering. It’s about 11:30am. He’s gets to work pumping up the pool, getting Ethan some lunch, and putting pressure on my back every 5 minutes. We never had a chance to do a “trial run” with our pool. Luckily, our pump is awesome and it sets up quickly. At some point, I can’t remember when, Colin starts filling the pool with water.

The contractions are super intense now. I’m having a harder time keeping focus, but I am intent on keeping my vocalizing low and constant. Many of the contractions seem one on top of another, only to be followed by 5 or 6 minutes before the next one. They are not being consistent enough to get to that 2-4 minute range. At 1:30, Colin calls Colleen and asks her to come. She says she is on her way.

Colleen arrives just after 2pm and starts setting up her stuff. I am in the washroom, on the toilet. For some reason, I’m handling the contractions better sitting there. I am very much in serious labour, though. I come out and have a few contractions standing in the kitchen. Colin and Colleen alternate with the counter pressure. She listens to the baby’s heartbeat with the fetoscope. She knows I prefer that to the Doppler, but I do understand that she may have to use the Doppler at some point. Every once in a while, Ethan comes in from the living room, where he is watching TV. He tells me at one point to stop making that sound (my vocalizing has gotten louder and more intense along with the contractions) because it’s annoying him.

The tub is as full as it can get as we’ve run out of hot water. I get in and tell Colin he better go put on his swim trunks as I’m going to need him in there with me. The water is not very deep. I really want it to be all-encompassing, but it’s not. I don’t know how long it’ll be before we have any more hot water. I try lying on my side. Changing positions is excruciating. I remember this with my first labour, hardly able to move, it was just so excruciatingly intense. I think Colleen tries to listen to the baby’s heartbeat again, but I’m losing track of things as the contractions are one on top of another. I’m waiting for transition, knowing it’s going to get worse before the pushing stage and I can’t fathom how much worse it can get and how long this can go on. Suddenly I am pushing hard in the middle of a contraction. “I’m pushing!” I exclaim. I’m still on my side. Colleen has called Jill, our secondary midwife. The secondary midwife generally comes during the pushing stage.

Colleen tells me I should move onto my knees and lean over the tub, as the position I was in wasn’t going to work to push the baby out. I needed to be immersed from the waist down, so the baby would also be completely immersed when it emerges. Then she says the most beautiful words I heard all day. “Krista, you are going to have your baby soon.” I know this is not just a random encouragement. When a midwife says something like that, birth is imminent. I am truly surprised. I expected this to go on for ages. And so these words are heavenly to my ears. I hear her call Jill again and tell her she should hurry over. I am pushing with every contraction. I’m feeling myself open. I’m feeling the sting of the “ring of fire”. I’m hoping with every fibre of my being that I will not be pushing very long as I’m not sure I can. It’s taking my breath away. Colleen is helping my perineum stretch as gently as possible, but feeling her fingers is driving me crazy and I tell her to stop touching me. I felt like I told her. Colin says I yelled at her. She laughed later, saying it’s not the first time she’s been yelled at by a labouring mom.

Then I’m pushing, pushing, pushing, and I’m feeling my baby move down and he’s out. I am leaning over the tub, so I don’t see him. My first experience of my son is his cry. His beautiful, lusty cry!! Just one. Just one cry and then he’s quiet, being wrapped in warm receiving blankets. Colleen helps me lean back and puts him on my chest. He’s amazing! His hair is red! Silas Aidan is here. It is 3:09pm on January 10. Ethan is in the room, too. He came in just in time to watch his brother be born. Jill didn’t make it. She arrives about 5 minutes later.

He was born in the caul, Colleen tells me. I didn’t get to see it covering him. Colin says Silas just punched his hand out and it slipped off. Colleen says in a regular birth, she would have pulled it over his head as he came out, but because he was born in water, she felt comfortable leaving it over his face, as he wouldn’t be taking a breath immediately, anyway. What a beautiful thing. My little water baby, bringing his own little water sac with him into the world.

We sit in the tub for a long time, just relishing in the peace and calm of the afternoon. Our kitchen is bright with the winter snow reflecting into the windows. Eventually, I hand Silas to Colin and wait to deliver the placenta. We move to the bedroom for this stage as it’s happening slowly in the pool. Eventually, Silas is weighed and measured and is 6 lbs, 15 oz. and is 20 inches long.

Everything feels so perfect. We are stunned that our little man has arrived so early and so fast. But it’s perfect. It was perfect that Ethan came into the room at just that moment. I felt so focused through most of the labour and it made me feel so much in control. And also allowed me to let my body do what it needed to do. With my first labour, the back pain was something I think I fought against. This time, I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t fight it. I had to flow with it. I felt the flow. I felt the contractions literally rushing me along and although it was so intense at times that I wanted to scream for it to stop, I knew I had to follow.

And the peace of holding my second beloved son. I can’t even describe how much love washed over me in those moments. Of course, every mother knows that feeling, but I didn’t know I could feel that way about TWO babies until that moment. Of course everyone is right when they say your love multiplies, not divides, as you have more children, but experiencing that reality was, and is, so completely overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

Welcome to the world, Silas Aidan. Welcome to our family. We thank God for bringing you to us. You are the beautiful ending to a long, emotional journey. You are our gift. Oh, what a gift. And how we love you, baby boy.