Luca’s Birth Story (or, Giving Birth to a Nearly 9lb Baby Au Naturale)

[Disclaimer: If you are not interested in birthing details, skip this blog. There may be moments of too much information.]

Luca was born early on the morning of July 10 after 8 hours of active labor. Drug-free, natural labor.

Would I go drug-free again with eventual baby #2?

Absolutely.

But if you asked me on Tuesday, July 10, my answer might have been different. I would have said: “I can’t even think about that right now. Too soon.”

And by “think about that,” I meant having more children at all.

But Mommy Amnesia—God’s gift to the human race—kicks in pretty quickly. A few days after the birth, the night had already gained a rosy, wistful air. It is a good memory. (Take THAT people who said every birth is a horror story!)

I remember Luca’s birth as an extremely intense experience like nothing I have ever felt in my life.

Was it painful? Of course. And beautiful.

Was it unbearable? Well, I’m still here, aren’t I?

It was amazing to know first hand how well my body was designed for such an experience—that it could open to allow life in the outside world to begin for such a wonderful creature, my son.

The day after... hence the relieved grin!

Since I wanted a calm, natural birth, I chose a birthing center with doctors, midwives and nurses who advocate natural birth, rather than a more institutional hospital with a doctor who may prefer to speed things along with drugs.

So Joe and I prepared by taking a Hypnobirthing class at a local doula center called Birthing in Korea (if you are pregnant in Korea, I highly recommend stopping in for a consultation to learn about birthing options in the country), and I hired a doula to support Joe & me through the process—and to help me stick to my drug-free goals.

Joe was an amazing birth companion and the most important person in the room, of course, but I don’t believe either of us would have been able to be nearly as calm without the support of our amazing soldier of a doula, Michelle—a fellow California girl.

And, as a bonus for me, the doula who founded Birthing in Korea (Lisa) also joined us at the hospital, to provide Michelle with some extra training. This meant I had an all-star team of three birth companions supporting me and helping me through my transition to motherhood.

On to the action:

Monday morning (my due date), I knew I would go into labor. I saw a little blood, and my contractions/surges (which had become a lot more regular over the past weeks) now felt crampy. But they didn’t bother me much, so I went about my day, which included a scheduled checkup at the doctor's office. She told me it could be 72 hours before labor would start, and that their fetal non-stress test hadn't picked up any real contractions, despite the fact that I was watching my belly contort and felt contractions while lying on the table... ugh (I think their machine was broken or put on wrong).

She also told me I was gaining too much weight and should walk around for 3 hours each day. Awesome.

In Korea, doctors believe you should gain a MAXIMUM of 22lbs, compared to U.S. doctors’ recommendation of a MINIMUM of 25lbs and a maximum of 35.

Even if weight was a concern, is 40 weeks really the time to bother about it?

So, I went home feeling frustrated and less hopeful.

The contractions/surges continued throughout the day, though it was hard to have the perspective to know they were getting stronger. And I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

When I was making dinner, the surges were strong enough that I had to stop what I was doing when one came on. They seemed frequent, but irregular, so I stretched out on the couch and started timing them.

They were less than 5 minutes apart.

I still wasn't sure if this was the real deal, but I alerted my doula, who hopped on the subway to go to her office (which is close to my house), where she planned to sleep that night, just in case. Since I could talk through my contractions, she was also not sure when things would really heat up.

She directed me to take a walk and then a bath to relax, which I did. If this were “false” or “practice” labor, this routine would have slowed my contractions. It didn’t: They were about 3-4 minutes apart, and definitely getting stronger.

I had to bend over and lean on a table, counter or the wall each time. Eventually I had to be on my knees leaning over my exercise ball.

Time becomes confusing to me at this point, but Michelle came over, and she and Joe massaged me through about an hour or so of surges before we decided to pick up (the founding doula) Lisa and head to the hospital.

Side note: My room at the birthing center/hospital was awesome. Queen-sized bed, living room area with couches and a coffee table, access to a big tub, and low lighting. Definitely the way to give birth.

Events at the birthing center are a bit of a blur in my memory because I really got into a zone. I was focused.

When we arrived, my doctor told me I was "only 3cm, so we will have to wait," at which I heard Lisa give a little annoyed laugh. I knew I was supposed to think positive and visualize myself opening up, so I thought, "Ignore the doctor. The doctor is wrong." (I actually really like my doctor, but her bedside manner translates as less than encouraging at times…)

Me focused, and with awesome hair.

I labored in the bed for a little while, then spent hours in a big tub of hot water. The heat helped a lot, but it was still an extremely intense several hours. I remember trying to convince myself, "Think of it as pressure—not pain. Pressure." But I had to keep convincing myself. Because, I admit, it hurt.

This may be TMI, but in the tub, my water broke. Dramatically. Apparently it doesn’t usually happen like this, but I felt a strong POP! (I swear I heard it, too, but I could have been imagining) and there was basically a jet pack of water bursting out. Michelle saw it, too. “Whoa!” I said, startled out of my zone, thinking it was rather awesome. (Joe even heard my exclamation from the other room, where he was taking a much-needed middle-of-the-night rest.)

After that, I started feeling more downward pressure with each surge.

We moved to the bed again after my body started the push reflex (based on my Hypnobirthing training, I didn't want to be told to push because human bodies have a natural expulsive reflex that will do it without a person’s conscious help). I really had no choice—my body was pushing for me.

His head was close (they had me touch it!) but my pushing contractions slowed a little bit, so we moved to a little wooden birthing stool where I could be in a supported squat.

After a few contractions on the stool, my baby was definitely progressing, and we could see his head. They put a mirror below for me to watch—before, I would have thought that was kind of gross, but actually, seeing his head and knowing where things stood encouraged me. It helped.

When the head came out—WHOA!! It was so big, I couldn't believe it. One minute it looked small and inside of me, but then suddenly a giant dark-haired head appeared between my legs. Wow. One more push and his body slipped out.

OH. MY. GOODNESS. That was instantly the most relief I have ever felt in my entire life.

It was 5:18am.

The stunned and joyful (and oh-so-attractive) look of a new mother...

"Take your baby!" someone told me, so I reached down and took him from the doctor, holding him to my chest while Joe and my doulas helped me to the bed. I stared and stared at the beautiful little creature in relief and love. My Luca.

When they weighed him, we were shocked: We did not expect such a big baby! He was 4.04kg, or 8lbs 14oz—nearly a 9-pounder.

To the doctor, I said, "No wonder I gained weight last week. It was just my big baby growing!"

And, in my defense, I dropped 16lbs that night alone, and by the following week, I had lost 25. Four weeks in, I’m 5lbs above my pre-pregnancy weight. Thank you, breastfeeding.

I spent that day and the following night recovering in bed, feeding my son and eating seaweed soup (미역국), the food new Korean moms typically eat every meal for an entire month. I believe it is supposed to help restore iron to the mother’s body and help with breastfeeding. Or maybe it is supposed to signify long life for the baby. Either way, I enjoyed it—it’s soothing and delicious—and I will definitely eat it again, in moderation.

Here we are, so happy and so sleepy: