Waiting for baby

Funny how it seems like it never rains, but only pours.  There are babies due all over the place, special tiny bundles, and my friends and relatives are joining me in welcoming new Christmas miracles all over the country.  What a wonderful reminder of Jesus, and a beautiful distraction from materialism.

As I wait and wonder when our little grand will make his appearance, I think back to my own labors and deliveries.

The key, I found, was relaxation.

"Loose jaw, loose perineum," they told us, and it seemed to be true.  If you could focus on keeping your jaw relaxed, the rest of you would follow suit.

"Loose jaw, loose perineum," Shawn and I would say to each other and laugh.

I never read the Dune books, but Shawn told me that in them, the characters talked about dealing with pain by letting it pass through them.  This also turned out to be a helpful concept during labor.  The pain can't hurt me if I don't let it, if I approach it with a confident passivity and refuse to catch and hold it.

It was also helpful to think of the pain as a healthy exercise in opening the body, to (figuratively, of course) grab the pain like a jar, and lean into it, turning into it, like twisting off a lid, as the body opens in this special and unusual way that actually lets a soul pass through.

Loose jaw, loose perineum.

Let the pain pass through.

Lean in and open.

Focus the energy flow down and out, down and out, out through your toes, out through your fingertips, and out with the baby.  Lean in.  Let it pass through.  Relax and open.

Breathe.

The breathing is key.  You have to keep breathing.  If you start holding your breath, you will tense up, intensifying the sensations, and it will be a strenuous endeavor to bring things under control again.  You don't have to do anything fancy with your breathing, just breathe deep and slow.  In through your nose--smell the flowers--for a count of ten.  Out through your mouth--blow out the candle--for a count of ten, leaning in, pushing down, working with the contractions, always with them, never against them.  If you transpose your nose and mouth breathing, don't worry.  Just keep breathing deep and slow.

If your husband is there, and if he is watching a monitor, it is helpful if he can alert you when the monitor shows a contraction beginning.  As the line on the graph edges into a rise, take an extra big, deep cleansing breath and start the deep chest breathing.  Keep going until the contraction subsides.  Down and out, out through the fingertips, out through the toes, lean in and open.  Picture your body opening more with each contraction; this is the work that labor does, and it is most productive when you consciously focus on working with each wave.  Each wave is an opportunity to move closer to seeing your baby.

Walk as much as possible, until you can't anymore (or they won't let you).

Breathe deep and slow.

Keep your jaw loose.

Focus your energy down and out.

Let the pain pass through you.

Lean in and think about your body opening.

Think about the little baby in there, on the cusp of discovering a whole new world that he's never even imagined.  Think how confused and curious he must be, and perhaps a bit frightened.  Tell him, "Don't worry little one, we're going to be okay.  We're going to be okay, you and me."  Think about opening your body for him, so he can come out.  Think about how much you love him, and how wonderful it will be to hold him and marvel at his tiny fingernails and his velvet-soft ears.

Big, deep, slow breaths.

Loose jaw.

Lean in and open.

And when it comes time to push, whether or not you are having an episiotomy, ask for a shot: novocaine, xylocaine, lidocaine, whatever they will give you.  Get this shot, to ease the very end.  You will be glad.

When they've given you the shot and told you to push, push for all you're worth and get it over with.  You might call out a prayer for God to help you, and that's okay.

The prize is coming.