AT HOME WITH A WATERBIRTH
by Amy Gallagher

Conception... never before had my life known such sudden, powerful transformation. It began with a single, sacred moment: two cells fusing, evoking a cyclone of energy, creating a human being! My body became a temple; I was deeply reverent. A new path suddenly spread before me. It was time to abandon the fortress I lived in by myself, and build a new abode with room for two.

A human being flowering in my belly! My mind was flooded by a river of thoughts, questions, decisions, adjustments, curiosities! Yet beyond all this, there was silence. I felt it palpably as I walked upon the beach where I had spent much of my life. My heart was bathed in a mystical silence, and everything around me sang in harmony with that... the water sprawled out before me, waves rising and falling in gentle rhythms, the sky etched with clouds, the sun bleeding itself upon the lake, the whisper of winds. The perfection of creation was clear as day. Clouds being born and drifting away, forces working precisely, beyond my control, bringing everything into perfect being. The same as in my womb, and I needed only to surrender.

Yet I still held an element of control. There were conscious choices to make. The choice to eat well, to flood my body with healing nutrients. The choice to rest, to meditate, be still. The choice to birth my child in the gentlest way possible.

I saw no details of the birth, but had a vague picture. It was most natural to be here, in this place of comfort and familarity: my home. I would be surrounded by those I loved. I would bring my laboring body to the earth to be touched by the waves, comforted by the winds. Just as this Intelligence birthed the lake, the trees, the skies and seas, so would It birth my child. I needed only to abandon myself to it.

In that moment, with the summer sun beating down on me, I committed myself to birth my child in the most reverent of ways. I trusted that by following this inner knowing, all would unfold as it should.

I advanced to the next step: reading, gathering information. I began exploring the philosophies of childbirth, and found a wellspring of
literature available. There were various opinions and options; different philosophies; different places to give birth: hospitals, home, birthing
centers. All were weighed with pluses and minuses. Many wrote fervidly about birth, conveying the long term signficance and impact birth had on the psyche of an individual. It was fascinating to see the evolution of childbirth, from birthing outside in fields, to being surrounded by the high-tech equimpment!

I observed that hospitals had come a long way in their desire to accomodate the current preference for natural childbirth. They now offered midwives, cozy rooms, and less intervention. But still it didn't feel totally true to birth in a hosptial. After all, it was generally a place to treat sickness, not a place to partake in such a sacred, glorious moment. It was also a controlled environment, and no matter what freedom was guaranteed, there still would be watchful "authority figures" in the background, monitoring, overlooking. No matter how accomodating these doctors and nurses tried to be, it was still not my home, not the place I wanted to experience the most intiamte and profound event of my life. A hospital was a business dedicated to curing afflictions. The beauty and glory of childbirth didn't seem to fit there (provided it was a low risk pregnancy). If there was reason to suspect a need for medical attention, then that would certainly be a good reason to choose a hospital.

There were many thing that came to mind when I thought of homebirth. I knew intuitively my body would respond best to birthing if I were spiritually and emotionally relaxed. I knew I had to be comfortable, I had to be free to respond uninhibitedly to my body, to listen closely and do whatever giving birth asked of me. This would reap the safest, smoothest results. I could do this best at home. Also, I knew it was of utmost significance that my child stay with me after he made his transition into the world. He was to bond deeply with me, not leaving the
warmth of my body. It seemed silly to have to ask permission to have my own child with me for the night! Imagining him being carried away from my body through noisy halls, into a sterile foreign environment, and left there alone... my heart broke.

I researched and found ample evidence that homebirth was safe-- and to my surprise--even safer than hospitals! There was evidence that the frequent use of epidurals, and other drugs which are so readily administered (and so very tempting!) in the hospitals could cause problems, and heighten the risk of a c-section. So did processes such as inducing labor with drugs, breaking the amniotic sac with a hook, and even being strapped under a fetal monitor...all of these interfered with the natural flow of childbirth and increased the risk of complications.

It was a midwife's function to intervene only when absolutely necessary, and encourage women to rely on their own inner power. They trusted in the birth process, and knew that to be on the lookout for potential problems, to time and monitor the birthing process, conveyed an attitude of distrust. Within I knew could trust my body, and most importantly, trust the Source of all life.

There was no changing my mind. The hospital was not the place for me to give birth. I would not allow my decision to be ruled by fear anddistrust. The life blossoming in my womb was precious, and I would treat him with the deepest reverence. I would not give birth in a foreign environment. There would be no one timing or directing this natural process. I would not be tempted to use drugs or unnecessary equipment. I would be free and uninhibited. I would listen to my body, rely on my inner wisdom and power. Birth was a natural process existing from the dawn of mankind. I was not naive enough to assume nothing could go wrong .I just trust that it probably wouldn't. In fact, I chose that nothing would go wrong. This birth was going to be safe, smooth, and beautiful. I would entertain nothing besides this total certainly.

I was fortunate enough to promptly discover a woman who assisted in gentle birth. Her role was to stand by women as they birthed their children; to offer support and empower them in any possible way. All of this was done safely. It was very early into our meeting that I knew I had found the person to assist with the birth. My relationship began with Eileen Stewart, certified nurse midwife.

The intensity of pregnancy was dawning. I said good bye to summer. to my adolescence, to my body as I had known it. I welcomed the energy stirring in my womb, welcomed the start of a new relationship with my child and my midwife.

My monthly prenatal check-ups began. Previous to this, I had little knowledge of midwives. I was very pleased by what I discovered. The relationshipbetween me and Eileen exceeded all my expectations. She was not just a person who methodically examined me, nor did I fall into the "patient" role. We stood on equal ground. Questions flowed without inhibition. There was something so gentle about our visits. We met inher home office. There were no sterile environments, no waiting rooms. She listened intently, embracing not only the physical aspect of
pregnancy, but the spiritual as well. She encouraged me to tune into my child, and trust my own inner knowing above anything else. Our visits were quiet, gentle, and empowering-- everything I wanted birth to be.

All was coming together perfectly; plans and expectations were developing. And the little creation in my womb followed along, developing to his own rhythms, forming tiny ears and eyes, little buds soon to spawn arms and legs.

The months sped by, bring transformation to the earth and to my body. Fall came, splashing the trees with color. My belly began to swell, andone day I was surprised with a tiny pulse from within. My child! I could feel him!

At last winter arrived-- the time to turn inward. My child continuted to kick and thrive in his warm cocoon. By now he was more of a presence. His kicks jabbed at me, and I was bemused by the wavelike motion my belly took as he tossed and turned. I imagined him in there: held safe and warm, swallowing sweet nectar, feeding like a sea anemone. I burrowed within, anticipating the day I would birth this being. Soon a new relationship would be born.

My relationship with Eileen continued to evolve. We revealed more of ourselves to one another. I felt as if she walked this path with me: thepoath into motherhood, into transformation. She was there offering me only strength and support. Sometimes she would guide me in meditation.

Winter began to wane. In the final months, I knew Eileen and I were standing on common ground. We held a deep trust in one another. She trusted in my ability to surrender to the power of birth. I trusted she would intervene only when necessary. She would be a welcomed and honored guest at the birth of my child. We began to form some loose plans. She said it was helpful to release rigid ideals on how birth would look. It has a way of flowing to a rhythm all its own.

One visit close to the due date, Eileen mentioned she could bring a birthing tub to the home. Water was so helpful in labor. What could be better than birthing a child in an element so like the womb? I agreed to it, although I had never visualized a waterbirth.

There was some preparing to do within myself. I felt certain my child would not come before I was completely ready to receive him. At the first breath of spring, something urged me to prepare. I retreated into the forest. All was in a state of rebirth. The tangled branches were forming green buds, the sky was enlivened with sunlight once again. I reflected on the past months, shed tears for the life I had left behind, smiled at what lie ahead. I ran my hands over my protruding belly, feltthe pulse of kicks and punches. He was growing cramped in there. I knew it would be soon.

At 5 am the next morning, my child revealed he was ready to be born. So began the final preparations... an excited current of energy rushed between me and the people in my home. I called Eileen and informed her this would be the day. Then I went to the lake.. a scarlet sun was beginning to rise. I spoke to my child, told him I would join him on this journey into the world.

My body was pulsing with energy! I was flooded with joy and exuberance! I ran back to the house to call people, ran down the street and told neighbors-- he's coming! My child is on the way!!

The morning passed with only mild contractions. I felt pulled to be outside. The air was intoxicating. Eileen arrived around noon bringing the watertub. We embraced. At that moment her presence felt so comforting, maternal. We talked about how things were progressing. I told her she could come back later. I knew we still had some time.

Hours passed. Eileen called me periodically throughout the day. The intensity was beginning to mount. It felt so right to be at home. I could not stop moving: walking, moving, flowing to this awesome energy!

Momentum! Like lightning bolts the contractions surged through my body. I was surprised by how total they were! The power and magnitude was certainly not confined to my belly, but coursed throughout my entire being! Continuous pacing, hopping, skipping, dancing. Couldn't stop moving. To stop moving was to fall off the energy, be dropped by the tides. I stood by the lake, saw the waves rising and falling, just like the contractions. Ride the waves, rise and fall, I thought.

My loved one stood back and watched me quietly. The baby's daddy, my parents, my brother and sister, and dear friend all gathered together, offering their love and support. At moments of great intensity it was unbearable to be around anyone. The sound of the voices, however quiet, were like piercing shrieks. I closed myself in a dark room for a long time, crawled within and summoned my own inner power. I remember thinking distinctly at a moment of tremendous intensity, "I couldnever be in a hospital right now! I would not survive!"

The sun set. Eileen returned for the remainder of the evening. At 8 pm I was drowning in the intensity of birth energy. I went outside and lied in the grass, in total submission. It began to rain lightly. My breath was heavy. I began to moan. The sounds took the edge off the pain. I was so grateful for this total freedom, this utter silence, with my loved ones standing in the background, trusting in me. I was totally dependent on the spicy air, the silence, the solitude, the freedom to do whatever I needed, whatever giving birth asked of me.

It wasn't long and I was back on my feet again. Back in motion. Eileen knew what I needed to hear... "The energy is like waves. Flow with it. Embrace it." At times I felt like I was drowning in the great sea. She would instantly notice my discouragement and say the right thing, "Your'e doing it! Your'e bringing your baby into the world and your'e doing a beautiful job!"

"Would you like to get into the birthing tub?" she asked. No, no I couldn't. I was caught up in my way of dealing with the pain. I couldn't imaginefalling from this groove. She asked me periodically a few more times to get into the tub. I shook my head vigorously, no. She honored my choice. The pain was excrutiating. I wailed. Again, Eileen suggested the birthing tub. This time her tone was different. Matter of fact. She knew what was right for me. I succumbed.

The moment my body touched the water was like floating on a cloud. I relaxed completely. My expression and voice softened. I drifted away. At times I even fell peacefully asleep, or perhaps I was slipping into a higher conscious level. Silence surrounded me. The lights were off, candles glowing softly. My family was gazing intently at me, their eyes were filled with pure love.

"You look beautiful," Eileen said, "Radiant." And I felt that way.

The contractions--birth energy-- suddenly took on a new intensity. I began to push with all my soul...breathing heavily, clenching the sides of the tub. I didn't anticipate I would stay in the tub to push. Neithed did Eileen. Yet I didn't want to move. In her wisdom, Eileen let the process unfold by itself. I continued to push.

The room suddenly came alive with encouragement. "The head!" someone explained. "Soon your'e going to meet your baby! Reach down and feel him!" Eileen said. I did, and cried in delight. He was there! This being I had come to know in a vague, imaginary sense suddenly came to life! I could actually touch him! I pushed and pushed, moaning deeply with passionate, primal sounds. Eileen never once instructed me in the process. She knew I could listen.

And then, into the gentle water, much like amniotic fluid, I birthed my child. Into the silence, into the warmth of people together, into the very essence of love, I birthed my child. Everyone gasped. The silence of the room was broken, replaced with cries of joy and elation. He was lifted from the water and placed into my arms. I cried, and gazed into the eyes of perfection.

"Oh your'e so beautiful!" I cried. He greeted me with an "A-laa! A-laa!" Such a beautiful sound! And then he was quiet. We gazed into one another's eyes. True love blossomed. Our relationship began.

The events that followed unfolded quickly; a birthday cake, delicious gourmet food, laugher, hugging, kissing, joy. We named the baby: Azure James, weighted him (8 pounds), recorded his time of birth (9:58). We stayed up far past midnight, discussing the birth, sharing each other's joy. I felt as if I were swooped up by a cyclone. My mind was whirling. My body was dazed and trembling, adapting to its new condition. But in the center of the cyclone, there was that familiar silence. A magical intimate silence only a mother and child could share.

I slept with my child the first night, never once letting him leave the warm comfort of my body. Throughout the night I would awaken in utter awe, and gaze at him. The energy was electric. The birth was not only awesome, it had far exceeded any of my hopes and vivid imaginings.

I look back on my pregnancy and birth with only fondness, knowing I made the right decisions, trusted my inner self, and birthed my child in a glorious way. I carry these lessons with me as a mother.

Amy Gallagher is a writer, editor, and co-creator of Passionate Living. Her son Azure is now 9 years old! She is currently studying Business in Alberta, Canada. She can be reached at: amy@passionateliving.com