The Birth of Rowan Scott Sloan

The Birth of Rowan Scott Sloan – November 17^th, 2011 – 10:49 pm

(I thought I would share the birth story of my son. I wrote this days after Rowan was born.)

Early labor began in the evening when my contractions started feeling closer together and quite regular – ten minutes apart. I tried not to get excited since I was over at my husband’s parent’s house for dinner that night, but since I had some bloody show that morning and some throughout the day, I just had a feeling that this was it.

We left their house around 8:00 at night. I called my midwife, Christine, and let her know what was going on. She advised me to eat, drink and then sleep – I’d need my rest. 

And boy, she wasn't kidding. 

So we got home and I really tried to go to sleep. Eventually, I really needed some support, so she sent her apprentice Betsy to my home to help me out. These contractions were like nothing I’d ever experienced before, starting quite low and pulling up.

After several hours later, Christine arrived. We tried a few different positions to manage the pain and then a few more to really get labor going. By this point my back was killing me, so we did a robozo technique to re-align the baby within my pelvis. It felt like his head was turned at an odd position and this really did the trick.

Night turned into day and labor still seemed to be going slowly. I was at 5 centimeters (I think) and labor had no real defined pattern, even after 24 hours. This really discouraged me. Even further discouraging was the fact that even when I got into the birth tub labor slowed down further, but really did take the edge off of the contractions.

The day began to wear on and I was getting tired fast. I was so close…surely the baby would arrive by sundown. But as the day began to end, there was only more and more pain. I was at 7 centimeters and still nothing – until my water broke. Christine suggested that if nothing happened and I didn't progress by 8:00 pm that we should transport to the hospital for some pitocin and an epidural. My husband and I discussed this and finally came to the conclusion that this was the best idea.

And this was when the hard part began. 

(In retrospect, I had no idea that I was in transition at this point, the shortest and hardest part of labor. Everything up to this point I could handle. In reality, if I hadn't have been so scared to go to the hospital and just RELAXED, the pain would have eased up considerably.)

Not only was I completely upset by the idea of not giving birth at home, I was in the most pain I had ever experienced in my life. While everyone around me rushed to get things together to take to the hospital, I writhed around in the birthing tub, completely unable to relax during or in between contractions. Jenifer, another friend who had come to help with support, pet my head and my back while I cried and screamed for it to be over.  I couldn't imagine going on any longer. In retrospect, this was when transition began – the hardest but shortest part of labor.

We finally loaded up into the car. Scott was driving, Betsy was in the passenger seat, and I lay in the back seat bundled up in blankets, holding a pillow. I tried singing up and down the scales to calm my nerves, but every time a contraction would begin, I would feel this insurmountable urge to force all of my energy down towards my bottom and vocalize deeply. Trying to hold this back was impossible.

We went down the interstate, finally reaching downtown in about 45 minutes. As we arrived at the hospital, Betsy helped me into a wheelchair and we let Scott, my husband, park the car. I was vocalizing a lot as we entered the emergency room’s triage. Everyone stood up to look at me. The “medical professionals” all looked dumbfounded as I shouted that I was 9 months pregnant and couldn't take this any longer. 

Little did I know – I was pushing!

Eventually, someone paid my pleads some attention and hurried me into a room to change my clothes. The doctor must have been some sort of idiot because he said he “felt a bulging bag of waters” when he checked me, but they had obviously already broken in a big way before we left the house over an hour ago. The baby’s head was right there. I could feel it myself.

Still thinking I was at 7 centimeters, I begged for an epidural as they transported me up to labor and delivery where Christine was waiting for us. I’m not sure how I got up onto that table, but once I was there, I suddenly realized that Scott was not present – where was he?!

The doctors insisted that they put my feet in stirrups, but I wouldn't let them. My instincts told me to get up on the table and squat, as un-lady-like as that sounds, but I had to settle for chin to chest, with various people supporting my feet.

Just as I started pushing some more with more and more fluid rushing out of me, my husband made his way into the room. I had never felt so relieved in my life to see him just then. I begged for an epidural again, but thankfully, I didn't need one. (Remember -- women are very susceptible to suggestion during transition. You're kind of in another world. I'm very blessed to have had my support team there to remind me that I didn't need drugs to do this.)

Apparently during the car ride, I had progressed to 10 centimeters. I could push! So that was what my body was telling me to do when I was in the car, that’s why it was hurting so bad was because I was trying to hold my body back. If only I had relaxed, I probably could have had the baby right then!

So I began my work. Focusing all of my energy downward, I pushed during each contraction – about three times each. All the doctors in the room were trying to direct my pushing, but I told them all to be quiet, leave me alone, and not to touch me. Maybe they were a little offended that I was listening to my midwife’s guidance to just listen to my body…but I didn't really care.

Pushing was amazing. It felt like I could really utilize my pain and turn it into an active force. With each contraction I felt my baby being pushed down lower and lower, until I could feel him right at my tail bone!

My midwife suggested that I reach down and feel my baby’s head with my hand. I was reluctant at first…I almost didn't remember that I was actually giving birth to a child – my child; but when I did reach down and feel the top of my baby’s head, I was already in love. I closed my eyes as I focused on pushing my baby the rest of the way out. I could hear my husband, Betsy, and Christine cheering me on. It was the most exhilarating thing ever.

With just a couple more pushes I felt the greatest relief in the world – no more pain. Lo and behold, there was a baby laying on my chest…a little boy, Rowan Scott Sloan. My midwife was so amazing, she wouldn't let any of the doctors or nursing staff announce the gender.

The doctor “in charge” wanted to cut the cord right then. My husband insisted that we waited until the cord stopped pulsating, so my son could have all of his blood – there is a month’s supply of iron in that magnificent cord blood that I was determined would belong to my child.

The doctor waited a few moments, but then approached the cord again, this time with scissors behind his back! My husband, my dear, darling, brave husband stood in between me and the doctor and would not let him cut that cord! After several minutes passing, Rowan’s cord finally stopped pulsating, and Scott cut the cord himself.

Christine showed me how to blow into my closed hand to create some pressure to deliver the placenta in one push. The nursing staff looked at me funny when I asked to see it before they “took it away”.  How could I not want to see the miraculous organ that nourished and comforted my child inside of me?

After almost an hour, Rowan initiated nursing himself. Now, a year and a half later, he is still nursing, four months into my second pregnancy. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

I do wish I had given birth at home, away from the bright lights and the harsh voices of the hospital staff. But, it was still an empowering experience, especially since I really did tune out the doctors and the nurses – I had a wet washcloth over my eyes the majority of the time and only listened to the voices of my husband and birthing team! It was truly like the medical staff wasn't even there.

Rowan is the happiest most high-spirited little boy I've ever met. He’s all about exploring and seeing what he can get into! We live out in the country, where he can run and play. Being pregnant with our next child, I sincerely hope that we will be blessed with a birth at home. In my mind though, my home labor was truly mind-blowing, and the miracle of birth, wherever it may be found, is always just as special.