On Thursday, January 11th, I made the 15-minute drive to Santa Monica for my weekly check-up with Louana, my midwife. We joked about how the baby seemed so anxious to come out around Thanksgiving and how it now seemed she might even decide to stay in past her due date (ugh!). Ryan and Angela Peters, my acupuncturist/ birth photographer/ postpartum doula, had both predicted that she would be born on the 9th, the full moon. I didn't seem to have any notion as to when she would come. But as the hours passed, the more I was certain that I would be pregnant for the rest of my life.

During my exam, Louana decided to "help my cervix along" by stretching it ever so slightly with her fingers. I had been 4 centimeters dilated the week prior and had not progressed much more, although I was now fully effaced. At the time, I was still having sporadic contractions-sometimes they were close together and regular and at other times not. Aside from moving around as much as possible, I was also taking some homeopathic pills to soften and expand my cervix. I figured anything Louana could do to help the labor progress would be beneficial. At the time, I had no idea just how beneficial her stretching my cervix would be.

Not long after making it home from the appointment I began having contractions between 5 and 8 minutes apart. They seemed slightly stronger than the contractions I had been having, but I also wondered if it wasn't just my wishful thinking. However by later in the afternoon, the contractions maintained-which was definitely different than before. I called Louana, asking cautiously, "Should I call my Mom and Wenonah now? How will I know if it is false labor (again)? What if Mom and Wenonah don't make it out on time?" A tinge of nervousness and excitement set in. "This is probably it, Corey," she said calmly. "Go ahead and make your calls." I obeyed. "Mom-I don't know if this is the real deal, but you might want to look into what flights are available today or tomorrow." Wenonah received the same message. I had a feeling that this was it, but I was so afraid that my loved ones would make the journey all the way out to LA and I would be wrong. Wenonah would not be able to stay long and would most certainly be unable to come back again. Mom could stay for one week, but what if the baby didn't come even then? As the contractions were not progressing much further, we all decided that if they continued through the night, flights would be caught Friday morning. I would need to call them both by 4am to let them know.

At 4am I called them both. This was definitely IT.

Mom and Wenonah arrived Friday morning as my contractions grew in strength. Jennie La Rossa and Angela arrived a bit later. Louana came by in the afternoon. Bets were placed about when the baby would be born. Despite the fact that I was not much more dilated than I had been the day before, the group consensus was that the baby would arrive some time that day or late that night. After the check up, Louana returned home, leaving the rest us to sit and wait.

We passed the time talking, eating and lounging about. Wenonah kept our palates happy by blessing us with her culinary gift. How wonderful it was to be at home where I could eat as I pleased. Had I been in the hospital, I might have been starved "just in case." My contractions continued throughout the evening. As they came on each time, the conversation in the room would stop and one or more of those around me would rub my back, neck, face or hands and whisper words of support as I attempted to position myself in a way that would help the labor to progress or, as the contractions became more unbearable, a way that felt the most comfortable. As the pain of each contraction subsided, I wiped the tears from my eyes, returned to my chair and the levity in the room was once again reinstated. I remember how surprised I was that between contractions I felt absolutely fine-no tinges of pain, no sense of urgency, no feelings of nausea or other discomforts. It was as if I was not in labor at all. I had not expected to feel this way.

It was during this early part of my labor that I began to realize how much I needed and appreciated the support and love that the people around me were so ready to give. I began to understand just how lucky I was that each and every one of them was there. I felt surrounded and embraced by their attention, affection and concern and this made all the difference to me especially later in the labor when I was in so much pain that I did not think I could continue. I only had to glance up through my tears into one of their loving faces to know that I was doing a great job and that I could indeed press on. I felt a deep sense of sadness for women in the world who don't have such espousal and who have to go through this alone or with overworked nurses whom they do not know rushing in and out of their room.

As the evening wore on the pain of my contractions began to overtake me. As a defense against this pain, I slipped into a dreamlike state. I was no longer fully aware of who was around me, touching me, talking to me-yet I was always conscious of the love that encircled me. At one point I recall Angela inviting me into my dark bedroom, which she had prepared with candles and soft music. I found myself lying on my bed and being lulled into a deep sense of calm as she massaged my hands with hers. I remember the door opening several times and shadows of figures approaching to join in. Hands caressed my back and neck and legs. Was it one set of hands or more? My contractions were relentless and I was so tired. When would this baby come? For now, I was able to relax as much as the contractions would allow. I fell into a deep slumber and awoke the next morning in a daze. It took me several moments to realize that my contractions had ceased. My labor must have stopped during the night. Later I was to understand that this pause in my labor was a gift from the universe allowing me to get some much-needed rest before my active labor was to begin. I also realized that had I had a hospital birth, the cessation of my contractions during the night most certainly would have led to an injection of Pitocin if not a c-section.

I emerged from my room to find Mom, Wenonah and Angela sprawled out asleep in the living room. Jennie had gone home some time during the night. Suzanne Keogh, who had arrived just moments before I went to sleep the night before had also returned home. I felt disappointed and anxious about my absent contractions but I was also rested and energetic, so Ryan and I took the dog for a walk. We knew that walking could help a labor to progress so we seized the opportunity to get some fresh air. Apparently walking works VERY well.
The leash had barely been slipped off of Eclipso's neck when my contractions were renewed at a substantial pace. At 11am someone called Louana. At 12pm while Ryan was out walking the dog again, I heard and felt a loud SNAP! In my lower belly as I lay reclined on the bed. For a moment I feared that the baby had broken a bone from the pressure of my contracting uterus on her. I felt warm fluid beneath me. Am I bleeding? No, I just peed my pants. What is going on? For a moment I think I panicked. It was probably only within seconds that Louana assured me that the baby was fine and that my water had broken. This WAS it. The baby was coming-today.

I was in a state of bemusement. Contractions were timed at only minutes apart and I was no longer energetic between them. I needed that in between time to prepare for the next onslaught. My family and friends tried their best to comfort me but by this point there was nothing anyone could do to make things better-there were only things they could do to keep things from being worse. What was once a gentle touch on my back that felt so pleasurable in contrast to the pain was now completely unbearable. The slightest sound in my presence was like standing next to a megaphone blaring the screech of 1,000 nails moving slowly down chalkboards-- times ten. Had a worm swished as it moved across the floor and had I enough strength, I would have leapt from the bed and stomped it to death. Primal groans and moans moved up from within me. Each contraction felt like my destruction. I could not imagine how I was going to make it through. The mental and physical techniques I had practiced in pre-natal yoga seemed to fail me. It was like trying to soothe a dismembered limb with an ice cube. To make matters worse I couldn't restrain myself from throwing up all of the wonderful food I had enjoyed earlier.

After what seemed like an eternity of bearing the unbearable, I had the thought that I was the stupidest woman alive to have chosen to have a drug-free, home birth. I can't do this any longer. Call an ambulance. I'm having this baby in a hospital with lots of drugs and nurses telling me what to do. F*%$# this "all-natural birthing" s*%#. Plenty of babies are born via epidural and they turn out just fine. What in the hell am I thinking? I can't do this alone. Some of these thoughts escaped my brain and poured out of my lips. Mom and Louana responded with calm nods that enraged me. They looked as though I had told them I had a hangnail. What's the matter with them??? Do they think I'm fooling around? I really, really have had all the pain I can take. I am not as strong as I thought I was - and right now I don't care. Please, Mom, somebody, please save me. But she assured me, softly. "You can do it, Corey. You are doing it." I was not sure I believed her. But suddenly, as if a higher power had heard my desperate pleas and recognized that I had truly reached my limit, the hurt began to melt away. I had made it to the top of the mountain and now I was on my way down. Now it was time to push.

The physical urge to push was not as strong as my internal motivation to get this ordeal over with. I thought that if I could muster up every ounce of strength and energy that I had ever had in my entire lifetime, that I could just push, push, push and the ache would get out of me faster. That's how I was feeling at that time. This was no longer a gentle, life transition that was taking place - a war was going on inside of me and I was going to end it. For a time I forgot that I had a new little life inside of me, going through her own kind of pain as my body pushed and squeezed her head through the bumpy bone terrain. I only knew that I was engaged in an all out brutal battle that I was going to win - and quickly.

Louana's voice cut my speedy birth fantasy into a million pieces. "Corey," she said, "I don't want you to worry, but you are not much more dilated then you were the last time I checked. You are only 6 centimeters and you need to be 10. If you feel the need to push, I am going to have to help you out a little by moving your cervix away with my fingers, OK?" Yah, whatever, I thought. Whatever you need to do to get this over with is fine with me. The process couldn't possibly be any more… YEEEEOUCH!!!!!!!!!!!! I'm not sure I ever knew what hit me, but the residual pulses of agonizing pain inside of me brought me back to reality for a time. I panted hard. I had no idea I could experience a sensation that was actually more excruciating than my earlier contractions. But again Louana's trick did the job because suddenly I was in the throes of an all out push fest.

Once again, I slipped back into a weary reverie. I was only vaguely aware of the people around me, silently cheering me on and urging me forward. I saw their human forms but managed somehow to look through them. I was devoutly focused. I pushed as hard as I possibly could when a contraction came on and continued pushing even after the contraction had subsided. My determination was only briefly derailed when I realized I had been pushing with the wrong muscles - my stomach muscles, instead of the muscles used to make a bowel movement, for at least 15 minutes. I had been told that pushing out a baby was "sort of like pooping." I felt like smacking whoever told me that in the face. After an accidental bowel movement type push, feeling the baby move down and hearing a voice in the distance call, "That's it Corey, you got it!" - I figured out that in order to have this baby today I might as well be pooping. The feeling is exactly the same. OK, so now that I understand, I'm going to bring this baby home!

My altruism far outweighed my energy by this point. I could feel my vigor and vitality literally leaking out of my pores and drifting away into the atmosphere. I was on my back and ordered to hug my knees as hard as I could but my arms were growing weak and my sweat-drenched hands could hardly keep a grip. Upon each contraction I also felt the tremendous urge to throw my head back as I beared down, but Louana instructed Ryan who was straddled behind me to push my head forward instead. This frustrated me to a level that is hard to explain. I began having violent images of breaking Ryan's wrists off and shoving the back of my head through his face and into the wall behind him every time he thwarted my need to look up. Despite my determination to ignore Louana's commands and Ryan's efforts, I was no match for him. Every time I pressed my head back, he managed to keep me looking down. In retrospect this probably moved the birth along better but at the time I was the opposite of grateful. Watching the video later, I laughed to see how well he actually performed his job - as my triple chins and bloated face turned a bright purple with every push against his strong hands. I actually remember thinking during one of my pushes that I had better squeeze my eyes shut as tight as I could because it felt as though they might just pop out of my skull. The video documents that onlookers might easily have had the same concern as well.

Much to my amazement, once the baby entered my birth canal, all sensations of pain disappeared - or perhaps I was so numb from the pain that I dissociated from my body. I had an awareness of the pressure of the baby moving slowly down, closer and closer to the outside world, but surprisingly this did not hurt at all. Still the final stages of pushing were excruciatingly difficult due to the fact that by this point, I was running on empty. I really had no concept of how far the baby had to move to be out of me, so I recalled the last drops of womanly power within my depths and determined that I would push until someone shouted at me to stop. Again, Louana's voice interrupted my dreamlike state. "Do you want a mirror to see the baby coming out? Do you want to feel her head?" I felt irritated and confused by these statements. Won't she just shut up and let me work??? I shook my head weakly. I didn't have an ounce of energy left to do anything but push. How can she ask me to even make sense of what she is saying? My body was on autopilot, and it could only perform one function at a time. I just wanted to get this thing over with. I didn't understand that Louana was telling me that this experience almost was over with. I think I was also afraid that looking through a mirror at my baby's blood soaked head stretching my perineum would trigger my brain to remember that I was supposed to be in pain and I just could not tolerate the thought. Plus, any previous fantasies that I would want to or be able to participate in this part of the delivery to any further extent than I was already doing had died a quick death. Pushing and breathing was all that I knew how to do.

I was in between contractions, laying back in half-consciousness, expecting another spasm to take hold of me when I felt a little snake slither out of me. I had not pushed it out; it just slid, on its own. It was 4:27 in the afternoon. The setting evening sun cast soft pools of orange light on the bedroom walls. The noise in the room swelled. Little gasps and whispers evolved into sobs and joyous cries. Something wet and slippery was plopped onto my chest as Louana prodded, "Say hello, Corey. Say hello to your baby girl." I was bewildered. For a few moments I did not know what was going on. Did I miss something? Am I done pushing? But all of the confusion subsided when I looked down into the huge blinking blue eyes of my baby daughter. For a moment time stopped. She had yet to cry and still I felt no anxiety, no fear, no pain. I knew everything was going to be all right now. She and I had endured this perilous journey together and now it was over. I cradled my baby at last. Zoe Blue, it is so nice to finally meet you. Welcome home, partner.

And there it was. As I basked in an endless ocean of peace and well-being, the room was abuzz with commotion and excitement. I was like the solitary center of a pinwheel that twirls in the wind. Ryan cut Zoe's umbilical cord, camera flashes snapped, Louana ensured that my placenta was delivered without incident, and Zoe was weighed and returned to my breast where she took her first sips of my colostrum and fell into a deep sleep. Ryan helped me into the shower while my mom, now a grandmother, watched her daughter's daughter with awe. By the time my body was refreshed, someone had replaced the sweat and blood soaked bedding with crisp clean sheets, which Ryan and I slipped into with our newborn human angel. The world was perfect at that moment-- the three of us now a seamless, impenetrable family. I was happy and whole and deeply in love with my daughter and husband and eternally grateful to the women who were present to witness this amazing event. At that moment, the ground beneath us shook momentarily - an earthquake celebrating our daughter's arrival. And I understood for the first time in my life the power of my being, the depth of my connection to this Earth and the wonder of this existence that we all share.