I was just a backup. Another friend, Karlin, was assigned to
labor help and while Karlin was out of town, I was Kristyn’s backup until she
could get back here. That being said, I
was not surprised to get a text not long after that saying the big day had
arrived. Actually, I got a text asking if I was ready to do dishes, which we
had joked about frequently, then confirmation that it was time to “hatch a
bird”, bird being her little nickname for the baby so lovingly grown in her
belly for the prior months. And although
Karlin was back and ready to support, an additional request was made for me to
be there as well.
I played basketball for 12 years, yet before every single
game, my hands would shake, my heart would race, my palms would sweat, and I
would have to work to keep my anxiety down. I knew it was a sign of something I
loved, feeling the raw adrenaline in the moments leading up to this amazing
moment, the start of a game, would fuel me like a drug.
It’s the same for babies. Whether it’s mine or someone
else’s, whether I’m there or receiving a text notification, if I know that
someone I love is preparing to meet their little one for the first time, that
same rush comes back to me. It probably means that I am a birth junkie, but
it’s completely out of the love and adoration that occurs in that one, perfect
moment. It’s the anticipation, the building, the anxiety, the almost loss of
control, and then that perfect release, when a new one comes into the world and
is held by hands that have craved to hold this perfect body for the first time.
So when I got that text message, the sweaty palms, the
labored breathing, and the racing heart immediately began. I worked to still my
nerves, knowing that important work was at hand.
When I arrived at her house, Kristyn was calmly laboring in
their living room and flashed a huge smile in my direction as she saw me. Still
being slightly nervous and unsure of what my role was, I took to the only thing
we had actually talked about, and I began washing dishes. When Kristyn realized
what I was doing, she laughed and exclaimed that she hadn’t been serious, but I
stayed busy, trying to calm my nerves. She was well attended to, with a
midwife, an assistant, her husband, and Karlin, all meeting her needs. I
checked in on them and was again greeted by a gorgeous smile and an invitation
to spend some time with them as Kristyn labored in the tub.
I would say that I helped, but that’s such a lie. Kristyn
was the model of perfection in labor. The whole experience was slightly
ethereal, with sunlight streaming into the bathroom through frosted glass,
casting a soft focus light over the scene. The water of the birthing tub was
calm and still, and inside, was this beautiful woman, working slowly with her
body and contractions in periods of pure rest and periods of focused relaxation
to move this sweet girl down and out, and occasionally, we would hear lyrics
and song in a whispered tone coming from Kristyn. At one point, I commented on
how sick this all was, how gorgeous and perfect her belly was, the ease with
which she was handling each contraction, all the while praise music was playing
in the background. We laughed and joked between contractions early on and
prayed and encouraged during contractions as things moved along. We hurriedly
turned down the music when commercials would come on as to not distract her. We
scrambled for buckets and rags for a stomach that was simply not wanting to
hold anything down and even then, we received smiles and grins, along with the
unnecessary apologies.
There were yellow and black painted nails, gripping handles,
outreached hands, and the sides of the tub. There were murmurs of how grateful
this little one should be for all of mama’s hard work. There were prayers for
strength, prayers for health, prayers for comfort, and prayers for God’s hand
to be on this amazing work Kristyn was doing. There was mention of Kristyn
wanting to do her hair and deciding not to do it as labor progressed. There
were pineapple smoothies, Sprite, and lots and lots of crushed ice from Sonic. There
were Kristyn’s hands, sometimes drifting in the water between contractions and
sometimes naturally drifting to her belly that would soon be empty, with a
Mommy’s heart who was probably so excited to meet this sweet one, but a little
tender and sad at the thought of those movements deep in her womb being gone. There
were moments between patient and midwife, carefully checking on Mommy’s
progress and Baby’s heart. There were moments between friends, assurances that
things were going perfectly. And most importantly, there were moments between
husband and wife, almost Mommy and Daddy again, both anxious to meet their
new little girl, both leaning into one another in this special time.
Kristyn listened to her body instinctively the whole time.
She moved through different positions, got in and out of the tub, and
eventually moved out of the tub to the bed. That special dance, with Kristyn
taking her time, Andrew supporting her, and the midwives helping her along,
made for amazing progress. A few contractions passed along in the bed and it
became clear that it was time to meet this sweet baby. Kristyn’s vocalizing
became more insistent and the midwives confirmed that it was indeed time to
push. A more hurried walk found Kristyn back in the tub as she desired and she
took Andrew’s hands into hers as she prepared for the last moments of this
labor. With a couple of insistent pushes and one very large push that propelled
a good portion of Mommy out of the water, Baby Skylar was born, briefly
supported by Midwife Cathy before being fully passed onto Mommy to hold and
love. There were sobs of gladness and relief from Kristyn to match the small
little wails from Sky as she blinked and took in the sweet faces looking
adoringly down at her. Tear soaked kissed covered her and Andrew as Kristyn’s
new Mommy emotions took over. Then, as if instinctual and pressed into all of
our brains by necessity or culture or both, the “check” began. Kristyn stroked
her fingers over her new baby, checking each part, counting fingers and toes,
looking for the first clasp of that sweet baby hand or the curling of those
little baby toes, and, hilariously, making sure that Sky, was in fact, a girl
as shown by ultrasound. With a little help from the midwife, Sky was ready for
her first meal and the two took to nursing like old pros. Kristyn would
occasionally look up, big eyes full of new mommy worry, making sure the newest
love of her life was ok, with complete assurances from everyone present that
things were perfect.
In turn, we each had our chance to meet Sky, holding her and
whispering soft “I love yous” into her little ear. She was measured and all of
the little details were carefully recorded, before being handed back to Mommy,
warm and dry in bed, and ready for skin time, nursing, and snuggles with her
daughter. After assurances that Kristyn had everything she needed, I walked away, shaking my head at the wonder of such a special day.
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