Now, pregnant and one week overdue, I am exhausted by days upon days of constant nagging thoughts of the oncoming onslaught of labor, the uncertainty of when it will happen, how it will happen, how long it will take. I constantly question if the baby will fit through this time or will I just end up with another c-section. Not to mention the pain of it all (drugs or no drugs).
Why didn't I just schedule a c-section? I could of just checked my zodiac charts, and chosen a good date and time (and had a happy libra instead of another fussy scorpio), and not have to of carried around this "mental baggage" for the last couple of weeks.
My last birth experience was completely exhilarating. No drugs. Super intense. The highest high I have ever experienced. And then at the end, they realized the baby's head was upside-down and he wasn't fitting through. Subsequently, I spent, what seemed like hours (could of been), of fighting the natural intense instinct to push every couple minutes. I kept, unintentionally, ripping out the IV in my arm. I was hooked to a heart monitor, and forced to breath into an oxygen mask, doing these ridiculous short breaths, and refused the plea for water. Physically, I was suck on the bed in one position. I couldn't move positions even if I tried.
I felt like a specimin trapped to a hospital bed; everything distorted and spiraling out of control. I felt like I was witnessing first-hand some trauma case on TV. Just when I think I possibly can't go on, I am in a surgical room surrounded by people with masks and sterile gloves, and bright florescent lights.
In a blink, there goes my hopes of a peaceful birth, low lights, ending with skin-to-skin connection, a delayed cutting of the cord. A beautiful entry for my baby into this world.
Instead, my son is ripped out of me screaming and (understandably) terrified. I can not help him. The nurses whisk him away to make sure he is okay. He finally comes back fully wrapped and hatted, eyes wide and, I might say, a little pissed off. "Sorry." I say, "we did the best we could." A few minutes with my son, and they whisk him away to the nursery against my wishes, even though he is okay, for the next six hours for monitoring. My heart aches.
No skin-to-skin contact here. My husband bringing my son over to me for the first time. |
That said, I have no reason not to believe the next birth will be nothing but utterly uplifting, peaceful and full of deep connection.
Birth of a child, to me, is a major life event. I take it seriously. I see it as a special and sacred event that is an honor bestowed upon women. When everything goes well, a birthing woman can be transported straight to the heavens, connected directly to her deepest innermost self, as well as connected to the "great mystery," or "great void" or "great spirit," whatever you call it.
The shear magnitude of the power a birthing woman
harnesses within her natural-born body is out of this world.
It puts her male counterparts attempts at a spiritual-high to shame.
As a yogi and spiritual conquester, I believe that giving birth naturally is the highest, most empowering experience a woman can have in her lifetime (with exception for some spiritual women).
By giving birth naturally,
I am truly honored that I get bestowed this tremendous opportunity to test my resolve, and deepen the connection with myself, my baby, my husband, and with the great spirit.
This is what it comes down to for me. Deepening the connection I feel to myself, to life and to others.
That is why I cannot absent-mindedly schedule a c-section, as nice as it does sound to me sometimes. I need to know that I did everything in my power to try to bring my baby into this world as consciously as I could.
I want my baby to start her life journey feeling the full magnitude of the universal life-force that descends when a women labors. I want my baby to know deep into her cell memory that I am there by her side, working with her, doing everything I can to remain focused, in tune, in order to deliver her into the hands of this earth-world as gracefully, and peacefully as I can. I want to be able to hold her for as long as I can, as soon as I can. I want to ease the startling transition to the outside for her.
The first mom/son meeting |
A natural birth is the path I have chosen. I certainly now have much more compassion and understanding for women plagued by fear and who do decide to schedule a c-section.
Every woman is different. Every woman has a different outlook, and a different tolerance level. At the end of the day, it is her big life experience (and babies and dad's) and she has to live with the birth.