A few days after my due date, I ordered the “Preggo Pizza” – a special from Skipolini’s Pizza that’s become a bit of a local legend to kickstart labor. It is said to have the right spice concoction of oregano and pepper flakes to get things going. Instead of starting my labor, the pizza gave me terrible indigestion.
Still, my partner insisted I eat the leftovers for dinner the next night hoping something would stir in my uterus instead of in my stomach. Sometime after the second slice, I started feeling some true contractions – did it work?
We took a walk around the block for a few hours as the contractions started to build. I texted my midwife with our exciting news but her response to me was, “Relax, it is two o’clock in the morning. Go home and rest.” Was she being serious?! I was too excited to rest! A baby was coming!
In retrospect, I wish I had heeded her advice. Instead, I stayed up all night pacing around my house and enviously watched my husband doze off.
The sun rose as I danced with my baby in-utero through each contraction. My partner made me breakfast, but I wasn’t hungry – I was starting to feel sick. I couldn’t eat anything and started throwing up.
My midwife reassured me that this was a normal progression of labor, and my doula and mama came to my side, bringing snacks and big smiles. I labored on as the hot day progressed.
I swayed with my partner through tough contractions. I sat on the exercise ball, I sat on the toilet, and I paced the halls of my flat. After 12 hours of labor, I was exhausted.
I started to worry...
Even though I am a doula and know about labor and childbirth, my mind was racing with worry. Was there something wrong? Had my labor stalled? Why wasn’t I progressing?
If something was wrong with my labor or health, I would have to be transferred to the hospital and all of the hard work I had done – through my infertility challenges, childbirth preparation, convincing my family that this was safe and ok, and laboring for hours at home – would have been for nothing.
My confidence wavered.
I didn’t think I could go any further. I hit a wall, hard and fast. My birth team was hard at work – my mom with a cool washcloth over my hot head, my husband squeezing my hips, my doula massaging my tired and cramping legs. When I started to vomit I thought – this was it, I’m done. I can’t do anymore.
As the sun set I broke down and cried. My midwife recommended I take a Benadryl, lie down, and try to sleep.
Sleep? Why did this woman keep telling me to sleep? I was in labor! Hard labor! But, just as before, she was right. Minutes after I laid down with my husband—who was able to fall asleep between each contraction, lucky him—I felt a gush of water down my legs.
Suddenly, the bed was soaked with amniotic fluid and my confidence was renewed; labor was finally progressing! I could still do this!
Now - it was time to push!
And push I did – on the toilet, on the balance ball, on the floor, and in my bed. Even though I was exhausted beyond anything I had ever felt before, the power of my body trying to bring this new life earthside overcame my exhaustion and gave me strength.
It took 28 long, exhausting, soul-crushing hours of labor for me to push my miracle baby into this world. She arrived in the wee hours of the morning—and she was perfect. Absolutely perfect.
A 'hero's journey'
The book and childbirth education series, Birthing from Within often refers to childbirth and the childbearing year as a Heroic Journey, one that follows a similar path to that of Homer, Neo in the Matrix, Moana, you name it.
The common pattern of events that seem to occur in all of our hero stories was the blueprint to my experience
A call to action (getting pregnant)
Preparation/departure (the pregnancy and childbirth preparation)
Initiation/ordeal (the ‘almost miscarriage’)
Death/rebirth (feeling helpless during my long labor)
Transformation/healing (overcoming the struggle, delivering my baby, becoming a mother after all of the obstacles, healing generations of trauma that has occurred in my family)
I overcame the odds.
I got pregnant. I gave birth to a healthy baby at home after 28 hours of labor. I was surrounded by my ancestors, proud of my accomplishments, and healed by my choice. I was empowered to change the world!
Until I became chronically sleep-deprived thanks to the new demands of a newborn… but that’s a story for a different time.
Did you experience a similar journey with your birth experience? Share in the comments below.
The “Road to Mamahood” series will continue over the course of a few posts to share my journey from infertility to pregnancy and then through two homebirths. Please continue the story here:
“Wait, I’m Pregnant?” How I found out I was pregnant after being told I could never have kids. (Road to Mamahood Series, Part 2)
Why I had a home birth. (Road to Mamahood Series, Part 3)
Puerto Rican & Indigenous mama of two. Bay Area native. Salsa dancer. Backpacker. Doula. Angel (she/her/hers) is a co-founding member of the Beautiful Brown Adventures team. She has traveled to over 30 countries and loves to explore the world with her two daughters & partner - one ice cream shop at a time.
