“Magical Moments: A Pain-Free and Miraculous Birth Journey”
On January 6, 2022, according to my gynecologist, it was the expected due date, while according to my own calculation, it was one day before. I feel great as the very regular practice contractions have been accompanying me for weeks. I can hardly wait. Through intensive birth preparation and exploring how birth should truly be, as inspired by @painfreebirth.germany, all fears of another painful and traumatic birth have vanished. What remains? Joy and a sense of anticipation to embark on this miracle with my God.
Around 7 p.m., I lie down in bed with my two-year-old and fall asleep rather quickly. At 8:21 p.m., I am awakened by slight nausea. Is it starting now? I watch my daughter sleep, pray, and wait until the contractions begin at 9 p.m. “Contractions,” a wonderfully physiological process that I can intensely feel but is absolutely painless. Now I am certain, our miracle is on its way. I get up, inform my husband, and prepare everything. I set out snacks, get enough to drink, and listen to affirmations from the @christianhypnobirthing app through my headphones. The waves come every two minutes, and I enjoy them, surrendering myself to their embrace. And I eat. I have an incredible hunger. Most of the time, I sustain myself with date chocolate and start worrying if it will be enough.
Between ten and half past eleven, I continue in this manner. I call my midwife to let her know, but tell her she doesn’t need to come yet. I call my mom, asking her to come by in case the older one wakes up. (The older one, who until now has always been the younger one.) I ask my husband to fill the birthing pool. My mom arrives, and I send her to the kitchen with the baby monitor. Even though I can enjoy the contractions and only occasionally feel a gentle tug, I want to be alone, to concentrate and surrender to the process in complete relaxation. I step into the pool. The feeling of weightlessness is delightful.
About half an hour later, the older one wakes up, calling for me and refusing to be comforted by either grandma or dad. So, I get out of the pool, throw on my now slightly tight bathrobe, and slip on my boots to go upstairs. I lie down with her for a while, but I can’t fully relax. The thought of my waters breaking in bed makes me uneasy. After a while, I tell my daughter that I have to get up again because the baby is coming. She wants to come along. Alright, we go downstairs together. I ask my husband to add some warm water to the birthing pool and, in the meantime, I sit on the exercise ball. Grandma and the older one are in the kitchen “having breakfast.” Winnie the Pooh is playing in the background. By now, it’s around three o’clock in the morning. I go to the kitchen and ask my mom to pray for some acceleration, as I am getting tired. It starts snowing intermittently. ❤️
Back into the pool with the window open. The tranquility is unbelievable. Suddenly, there’s a pause in the contractions for about 15 minutes. Alright, I think, the next phase is about to come. Which phase was that again? I’m not sure, so I simply wait. A jolt passes through me, and I feel the baby vigorously descending, maybe indicating that I should go to the bathroom again. I tell my husband to call the midwife; she can come now. I go to the toilet (it’s four o’clock). While on the toilet, I realize that I need to use it, but I also feel the baby’s head. Somewhat startled, I notice myself tensing up slightly, and the “ring of fire” begins to burn. I stand in front of the toilet, watching as the baby slowly emerges into the world with its head and a stretched arm. In that moment, as it turns once more, I know that with the next wave, I will be holding her in my arms. I will never forget that image.
Around 4:22 a.m. on January 7, 2022. Incomparable. And there she is, our daughter. I call for my husband. Our baby is here. (January 7th is also our anniversary.) It’s simply magical.