The Sawinskis

March 10- Little Sprout’s due date. The wind was whipping, the snow a fury of swirls outside. 11pm. Low pelvic cramps started rumbling about. Last minute frivolous chores began consuming my time, I bumbled about the house. Martin came into our room and said Deb wanted to talk to me on the phone. My tell tale signs of labor prompted his late night call. Sinking into what is now dubbed “my cave” (Kiera’s current bedroom and the same room Kiera was birthed in) I laid down for a little while, lit some candles on my birth altar, turned on some beautiful music, and connected with Martin. The spiritual ambiance was something I deeply craved and did not have time to create and settle into with my first labor.
I glanced around the peaceful room, rubbed my cramping belly, and took a long sigh of relief. The time was coming to meet this little creature that had been perfectly formed inside my womb from the water, sun, and clay of this earth.
Deb and Monica arrived and did their checkups on me and Little Sprout, wrote numbers and details on their charts, chatted amongst themselves, and soon slipped off to the other room to get a little shut eye.
The time progressed on but my laboring rushes did not. I took a walk with Martin in the blizzardy midnight fury remiscent of Kiera’s birth, hobbled up and down the basement stairs, and relaxed my body and soul in the warmth of a birth tub. I started each contraction deep in moaning but was only feeling pressure right above my pubic bone. The contractions continued to fizzle out. Days earlier I had felt that something wasn’t right. I knew something wasn’t wrong persay, just that something wasn’t exactly right with Little Sprout.
I dispelled any emotional fears that may have been jumbled in my head and watched the sun come up on an amazingly bright, clear, and blisteringly cold Wednesday morning. This particular day was a full moon. In a tarot card reading done regarding the birth- I was told I would be birthing on a full moon…
The family that had driven up from the cities anticipating the labor quickness of my first birth busied themselves with random journeys around the city. When Kiera awoke from a restful night’s sleep she screamed in glee as I told her that “mama was working very hard to get the baby out today”. All the “baby will be coming” prepping we had done with her was paying off. My one deepest desire was that she could be present in some form or another at the birth, casted femur or not. She proceeded to fill my soul with hugs and kisses and left with family. My little baby girl that walked out of the door never came back. For when she did it was to be present at the birth of her little sibling, our new baby. Out walked my first born baby and later that evening walked in my big girl- her title and life changed forever.
The morning progressed just as the night had, slow and rythmical. My cervix was not dialting although it was thinning and becoming mushier. Bloddy discharge was a welcomed sign of change brought on after a bumpy car ride on pothole infested roads.
I fueled my body with water, chicken broth, rice, popsicles, scrambled eggs, and toast with loads of melted butter.
By mid-late afternoon Monica, Deb, and Martin had a rendezvous of sorts in the living room. I was nude and on all fours on the floor straining to hear the little whispers of the trio. Martin retreated into Kiera’s room and emerged with a baby doll. Monica and Deb began manipulating the baby into various positions until the “ah ha” look shone from both of their faces. The conclusion? My contractions were not progressing because Sprout had his right arm tucked behind his back. Everytime a contraction came about, he tried to enter deeper into the birth canal but was unable to because of his position.
Upon this revelation we quickly began doing inversions, crawling, back laying, etc that would help spin this baby 360 degrees to untangle the arm and ease this baby into the world. The work was draining and tiring, but well worth it. Within a short time my contractions were fierce and regular, my cervix began opening up like a blooming flower, and I was purging my system. THIS was what I remembered labor being like. THIS is what I had been craving. Goodbye to the sweet laboring moans and hello to loud AAAHHHHH’s and OOOHHHHH’s.
All the family who was waiting in the wings returned to our house. I heard Kiera’s shrieks of excitement when she learned that baby was actually arriving. No more anticipating and prepping. No more “soon the baby will come”. No more day long snuggles with just one child.
The crowd had formed, the bed prepared, and cameras turned on. The stage for birth was set and all eyes were on me. A few moans and grunts on my part, Kiera cheering me on saying “come on come on, it’s going to be fun”, cheers, cries, and true gut wrenching emotions on the crowds’ part, and two bloody hands from Papa who caught his son on Martin’s part resulted in the birth of Sully Jay Sawinski. 3/11/09, the shining night of a full moon. We have now spiraled into the center of the universe with bliss…