Welcome back to part 2 of How I Became a Mother. This is the climax of my journey where I became pregnant and went on to give birth to my daughter in late October, 2024. I hope that sharing my experience is helpful to others who face similar challenges to womanhood that I faced on my way to motherhood – whether it helps you decide to become a mother or clarifies why you don’t want to be one. I will be going into detail about my birth experience, so if that is something you don’t want to read about then feel free to move on!
Pregnancy & Birth
I remember when I took my pregnancy test – I really didn’t think I was going to be pregnant and assumed I was just having a delayed period because of stress. When I saw the extra line I didn’t feel any fear. I felt happy and satisfied. It reassured me that my previous ambivalence was fully resolved and that indeed, I had wanted this all along.
I was blessed with a pretty uneventful pregnancy; there isn’t much to write about it. I ate delicious food, I continued exercising and modified weightlifting, I worked a part-time job to pay for my maternity photos and baby shower, did some camping and hiking until I couldn’t, got massages and acupuncture, read my birthing and parenting books, did fairs until I couldn’t, laughed a lot, prayed a lot, and generally enjoyed myself while managing the inevitable challenges of pregnancy with little stress. I praise Lakshmi for my easy pregnancy. Then my due date started to approach.
I was due in late October and about six days before I gave birth I felt the “drop” and started experiencing pre-labor cramps just as my husband prophesized I would. Three days before I gave birth, my husband tested positive for COVID and we isolated from each other. At this point I felt convinced I would be giving birth a week later and was unbothered. However, I started experiencing regular contractions the day before my due date. I prayed and obsessively googled for information that could convince me this was false labor, not wanting to give birth alone without my husband with me. I could no longer avoid the truth when I left a grocery store in the late afternoon and found a large crow perched upon my vehicle, locking eyes with me. An Morrígan made the message clear: my number had been called and there was to be no running away.
That night I labored alone in my bed while my husband stayed quarantined in the office. There’s no flowery way to describe this: it sucked, I was stressed about COVID guidelines and nobody was around who could give me physical comfort besides my dog. I hate being in pain. I rely a lot on my husband to comfort me when I don’t feel good, and he couldn’t. He hated feeling so powerless as well. By 4am I decided to go to the birth center to get checked. I began crying when the midwives rubbed my back and comforted me through my contractions; this was what I wanted from my husband. I was not dilated enough to be admitted so they sent me home and advised me to call my doulas over and get as much rest and food as I could.
The doulas arrived at my home shortly after we did. It was now morning as my husband departed to the clinic to get re-tested and prescribed an antiviral to protect the baby. One of the doulas had to leave for the day, leaving me with the one who was wearing a cast after breaking her arm just a few days prior. She coached me through my contractions and encouraged me to try other positions, but every time I tried I would vomit and quickly become overwhelmed by the pain and back off. What was merely 90 minutes felt like forever until my husband finally came back with good news: he just tested negative for COVID. My doula called the birth center and confirmed he would be allowed to accompany the birth as long as he wore a mask. My relief was immeasurable; I directed my husband to immediately start rubbing my feet.
The remainder of my labor was drawn out, frankly because of my own resistance towards the pain of transition. Every time I was put in a position to help progress my labor, I would become overwhelmed and hop in the shower to back off. By late afternoon my doula called the birth center as I was on the floor vomiting on all fours, my water still not broken. She slightly exaggerated how regular my contractions were and we were told to come in. I fiercely gripped my acupressure pillow as we embarked on the longest car ride of my life.
It was evening when we arrived at the center, where my midwives informed me I was ONLY 5cm dilated (you need to be 10cm to start pushing). At this point, I had been in labor for 24 hours and had not slept or kept any food down in that time. Throughout my pregnancy I had envisioned having a beautiful and enlightening water birth with all the ease and positivity that I felt Ina May had promised me in her guide to childbirth. I kept my birth plan flexible though, so I felt no qualms when I told my midwives that I was ready to transfer to the hospital and get an epidural so I could sleep and eat my food. They left the room to organize the transfer, my doula followed, leaving me with my husband as he continued to comfort me through my contractions.
It was now after 9pm. I was on all fours on the bed when another contraction came on, but this time it was different. My body suddenly began pushing on its own at the end of the contraction. My doula returned to tell me that the transfer was all set up and ready to go when I told her what was happening. She frantically called back my midwives who checked and informed me I would be staying to have my baby!
The next part felt very fast but lasted about 90 minutes. My husband tells me that he saw the spirit of Mother Nature wrap her arms around me and merge with my body. My midwife coached me to relax and focus on my breath between pushes, which came automatically as my contractions continued. I cannot overstate how intense the process was, but it also felt as familiar as my daily yoga practice to release my pelvic floor and breathe through the intensity. I was in the middle of moving myself to the edge of the bed to transfer to the birthing pool when my water finally broke and my baby was born in what my husband tells me was a burst of yellow light. It felt amazing to lay down after, like collapsing into bed after a long day at the gym or toiling in the garden. I suppose that is why it’s called labor. My daughter was placed on my chest and I cradled her as if I had already done it a million times before. I was now a mother.
So that’s it, that’s how I became a mother. What has it been like? It is definitely one of the most spiritually fulfilling things I have ever undertaken, as my neon skeleton guide said it would be. Raising a newborn has brought me in touch with parts of myself I didn’t know existed, as well as consider new perspectives I don’t think I could have otherwise contemplated. There is a lot I can and will write about mothering, especially as a mission in service to Spirit. I do not regret my decision at all. It is the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I don’t feel resentment or burdened because of the way I approached it. I do get overwhelmed and stressed out; I struggle without much support as an estranged daughter of a scattered family tree. This challenge, however, feels engaging and worthwhile. I am stronger than I have ever been thanks to this experience.
