The Non-Birth Story of Hayden Frances

Last shot of pregnant me... Taken at home
before heading to the hospital

For four days I have been obsessing over writing Hayden's birth story.  I have spent multiple hours alone in the office in my house...  writing and re-writing... re-reading, second guessing, checking, re-checking and fumbling with writers block, and self-consciousness.  I would walk away upset, frustrated, sad and confused.  Amy kept telling me to give myself a break, and stop over analyzing things.  But I was like a man possessed... trying to process and re-process and make sure that everything was coming out correctly.  Different phrasings would go over and over in my head, even when I wasn't at the computer.  Each time I came up with a the words to describe a moment of the story, the next moment I would be second guess the phrasing.  Don't get me wrong... I got a good portion of the narrative complete.  The beginning of the draft is a full 4 pages... and I barely made it past the point of us arriving at the hospital and being in triage.  The draft is unwieldy and long on details, which as I read back just seem so mundane... which is not how I remember the experience.  It was certainly anything other than mundane...

Thats when it I realized that this is not a story that I can share.  The details are too personal and complex.   The story of Hayden's birth is not about the details...  the time of day, the medications, the medical gauges of readiness for birth, what happened, and what didn't happen... the important parts of the stories are in the feelings evoked, and the obstacles overcome.  So here is the long and short of it...

I was in labor for over 24 hours...  I spent a lot of that in denial that it was actually happening.  I was afraid that acknoweldging it was actually happening would make it stop.  We had waited long enough for our baby, and to be honest my patience was shot...  I always thought that 24 hours wouldn't be that long to be in labor.  I was, afterall, a camp professional and had worked many many 24 hours days in my time.  However, this kind of 24 hours was a whole other world. 

Badass Midwife Pat after Hayden's
arrival

When our baby was born, I was surrounded by the perfect collection of people...  We worked with the most amazing group of midwives throughout our pregnancy.  Each one of them were impressive in their own ways, but there was one that I feel like I really gravitated towards (because of my need for bad-ass strong women to get my through tough times), and was so relieve to find out that it was Pat who on call when I went into labor.  The midwives work on a rotation, and although I really would have been really happy if ANY of them had been the one on call that night, I liked Pat the most from the very first time we met. She is the kind of lady that commands attention and respect, with a strength that you only find from an old soul. It is this type of personality that I need when faced with a challenge that seems insurmountable.  Someone who can show some tough love, but can be equally calming and gentle. Furthermore, I feel like we shared a lot of our journey with Pat. She was the first one that we breeched the trans-subject with in the Midwives office, and although she openly admitted that it wasn't something that she had an understanding of on a personal/emotional level, I feel like she was always open to making sure i felt as comfortable as possible...  and she was funny, in a slightly salty, slightly innappropriate grandma type of way, and if there is one thing that can make ANY situation better it is a good sense of humor and well timed joke.


Sharon (aka Mother Birth) with
Mama and Baba

I don't know how anyone gives birth without a doula.  I really don't.  Our Doula, Sharon, had become so much more than part of our birth, she was part of our journey, starting when we first met her in June.  When we were laboring at home, I felt such relief when Sharon arrived.  I have come to call her “Mother Birth” (only in my own head) because she embodies all the strength of a mother taking care of a scared child... without the part of a mother who cries for herself when her child is in pain.  I looked to her for strength and calmness and confidence, and each time was met with exactly what I needed.  We had found Sharon on the suggestion of multiple friends, and she helped us in many more ways than we could have ever expected. Sharon helped me let go of a lot of fear that I had pent up not only around birthing, but around who I was as a person, and how I was perceived in the world.


These two are just meant to be

And of course Amy was there...  There is no other person on this planet that I would have wanted to take on this trip with me.  Amy exuded strength when I couldn't and acted like my own private cheering section when I needed it.  She held my hand, until I almost broke hers, and bore witness to my fear in a way that calmed and comforted me moment by moment.  When I was tapped out, and thought I couldn't take anymore, I would look straight into her eyes and without words I would be ready to give it just a little bit more.  Obviously, every part of me wanted this baby, but when I thought about our birth, the most motivating force was the moment that Amy got to hold our baby for the first time.  I couldn't wait to give her that gift... and this image gave me the strength to continue, in the face of fear and exhaustion.

Bringing our baby into this world was the hardest thing I have ever done... physically, spiritually and emotionally, and there were a great many things that surprised me about the process.  I was surprised to find that I had very little concern surrounding my gender identity during birthing.  I feel like I went to a place where my body became very functional...  it was there to do a job (a very impotant, job...) and it didn't matter if I identified as male, female, neither, a snowman, a unicorn or anything else.  The body, carrying out a vital function of creating life, had taken over, and anything other than the functions of that process seemed tertiary and unimportant.  There was something so primal and natural about it that it completely superceeded any necessity for me to feel male or female or anywhere in between.  (Now that being said, I was lucky to have had an amazing hospital experience, where everyone was understanding of my feelings, did their damnedest to use my preferred pronouns and worked hard to make us feel comfortable.) 

I was also surprised at the physicality of giving birth.  I consider myself a pretty decent athlete... I mean, I did survive Division 1 Soccer Pre-Season in the 100 degree heat of a South Carolina summer... and have completed 2 half marathons in recent history...  But there is no physical event I have EVER participated in that even holds a candle to giving birth.  I pushed for two and a half hours (which is coincidentally exactly how long it takes me to run a half marathon, and part of me thinks that if it had been any longer than that I would have just refused to continue.)  We listened to my favorite running playlist (and I distinctly remeber being worried that there was cussing in some of the songs, and maybe it would offend someone in the room...  legitimate worry ama right?)  There were certainly moments I was glad that I had done squats throughout my pregnancy, because those muscles came in handy.  At some point, it was decided that I would hold one end of sheet, while someone would hold the other side of a sheet, and when pushing I would pull as hard as I could on my end, and the person on the other end would do the same (you know like tug-a-war). I think this really helped me focus my energy.  Of all of the many body parts I planned on being sore the day after giving birth, my deltoids were not on the list.  But when I woke up the next morning it felt like I had done multiple sets of dumbell lateral raises, with weights that were way out of my class.  (Sharon, who ended up at the other end of the sheet, said she was also very sore, so I must have done my job quite well.) 

But of everything that happened, I was surprised at how strong I felt afterwards.  Because I never had planned to get pregnant or give birth, I had given very little thought to what my "magical birth" would be like.  I certainly didn't plan for this process to affect me the way it did.  When Amy and I decided I would carry our first child, it was a decision made out of necessity.  So when I thought about our "magical birth" it would be one that, simply put, ended in us having a baby.  But if I had dreamed up my version of a "magical birth" this would have been it.  I have to admit, I spent the last hour of pushing convinced that it just wasn't going to happen.  I was scared, I wanted to stop, and I was convinced that I couldn't do it.  I was reassured by everyone present, that I indeed could do it.  Trying to look tough, or macho, or even "under control" was completely out the window.  I think for once in my life, letting myself be completely vulnerable brought me more strength than I ever imagined.


Kind of similiar to the first
view I had of our baby girl

By the end, I was so exhausted that I could hardly stay awake. Between contractions, I would close my eyes... I can't say that I was sleeping, but I certainly wasn't alert or awake.  As we neared the point of Hayden actually making her appearance, someone asked if I wanted to watch in the mirror.  Having contemplated this when writing our birth plan, I had thought...  "GROSS... YUCK... WEIRD... NO WAY!" but in that moment, in that state of really being witness to myself and the present, I did want to watch.... and I have to say it was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen.  I mean, for someone who still routinely uses the term "downstairs" when talking about their private parts and for 28 years having disregarded anything downstairs related, this was a pretty big deal.  Again, I think it was this willingness to be vulnerable that stayed my hand and got me through those final moments.  Also, seeing Hayden's head get closer and closer to its final emergence was a pretty amazing motivator.

I do wish I could share more details from the moment that Hayden finally came into the world... but it was such a blur of emotion that I am not at all sure what happened.  I know she was immediately put on my chest... and I remember screaming out of excitement that our baby had finally come and this wasn't all just a dream, and also out of relief that I had done it  (now when I say screaming I mean like really screaming... like going down the first hill of a rollercoaster screaming)!  But beside my primordial Xena Warrior Princess yelling, the rest of this memory is gone.  I told Amy I like to think that maybe my mind has saved the memory for if there is ever a time that I need a really powerful memory to give me strength... maybe then I will be able to recall it in full detail.


Hayden... working on "pinking up"

Everything was happening so fast. My next memory was them taking Hayden away because she wasn't crying. Amy later told me she was born with a double nuchal cord. I remember looking over at Amy, and all the sudden there were several people in the room. Amy looked scared, and that made me scared. Sharon kept telling us that it would be okay. Eventually I remember there being crying, and someone saying she had pinked up. What a weird phrase.... But it meant that she was okay, and for that I was greatful.  Then all the gratuitous scrub clad people left the room, as quickly as they came, and Amy was able to sit in the rocker with Hayden tucked snuggly into her sweatshirt, and it was every bit as beautiful as I could have ever imagined.

Although I don't remember what that whole series of events really looked like, I do remember the feeling of it.  I felt strength, exhaustion, disbelief that it had actually happened and an overwhelming feeling of love.  People say the first moment you see your child you will feel a love like nothing you have ever felt.  I have felt a lot of love in my life, and I can't say it was a better love than anything I have ever felt... but it was a different love.  The kind of love that you know is worth sacrificing everything for.  Everything we had worked for, and everything we had longed for, and all the nights we cried ourselves to sleep hoping for a baby that we felt  would never come, in that moment it all made sense.  All of the loss, and the hardship was worth it.  It was a completeness that I had never known.

So there you have it...  The moment that our lives changed forever...  Now the next part of our journey begins... and I for one, cannot wait to see what happens.