(The birth of our daughter Ona Lua)
On 24 January 2016 I woke up very active. Before we got up, we made love wildly —as much as was possible with the giant belly I had—, we had a good breakfast, went to fetch firewood from the woods, and went for lunch with my in-laws because I was craving calçots. Once at the restaurant I got a strong urge to eat a giant steak (and that’s despite being vegetarian).
We headed home very happy, I felt very comfortable, not tired at all. We watched a film, during which my husband fell asleep and I began to feel some contractions that tickled a little. I remember thinking I could have chosen a nicer film for the day of the birth.
At 12, when the film had finished, there were no more doubts: my daughter had knocked on the door to come into our world and out of me…
I got up and called Marga: “It’s started! What do I do? Should I wake Marc?” I let him sleep another two hours, while I prepared the living room with candles, precious stones, music…
By 2 the tickling had turned into a pain strong enough to wake Marc. He gave me the classic response learned at some course: “it’s probably nothing, come to bed…” and I made it clear he didn’t need to put on a show and that I needed him awake because it had already started.
From that moment I entered a world apart… the details of the hours and centimetres of dilation and other rational precisions that I’ll explain later were given to me afterwards… I was floating on a wave of pain that carried me to an unknown sea… the high tide brought me the pain and the need to express it, the low tide brought rest and almost delirium…
The journey began in a very unsteady little boat: “I want to go to sleep, I don’t know how to position myself, I don’t want to give birth today…”, —I remember the soft hands full of tenderness of the sorceress Marga who accompanied me in the bathtub, where I lasted only a few minutes— and as the hours passed, the little boat grew larger and steadier, until it became a ship that tamed the sea… But to get there I went through many positions: on the sofa on all fours, on the floor, the ball doesn’t work, holding on to the fabric, sitting on the fabric, I lift my right leg, no, better the left, better lying on the bed, ow-ow!, no-no!, standing hanging from a strong neck, sitting in a squat, on top of beloved legs, let’s start again!… the whole birth kamasutra! and going through endless tides that changed every 3 minutes. “You’re doing really well!” A whisper of a voice that inspires confidence… “Really?” came out of me in a trembling voice in need of that positive reinforcement. Thank you Paloma! The transformation from little boat to ship, from kitten to lioness, happened the moment someone told me to touch my daughter’s head. I touched it for hours. I transformed into someone super powerful who used the giant waves of each contraction to surf and the rests to recover strength… my daughter was on her way! She was here!
“It won’t be long now”, wise but uncertain words the wind brought me at 10 in the morning… their echo, in the form of a memory, reached me at 2pm… I’d already been 12h on the open sea, always accompanied by my husband, my safe harbour, who bore the weight of each tide with me, ever present. I needed to feel him with me, to hang from him, to look into his eyes… his calm and his steadiness helped me cross the ocean.
Often a heat and dryness so devouring took hold of me that I only had strength to say: “Water!”, and I wanted it nice and cold, with ice, and right now.
“It won’t be long now”, again those words whispered by someone… Wait… didn’t you tell me that hours ago? Laughter, don’t take any notice of us…
“What if you try to wee?” Someone suggested. I don’t feel the urge, I’ve lost the sensation of needing to wee. I try, go on. What a curious experience, walking with a head well engaged in my pelvis. “I’ve got a ball between my legs!” I hadn’t lost my sense of humour. I go into the bathroom sideways… and nothing.
We’ve no more positions to try; that odd one, lying on the bed, I don’t want it, it hurt a lot, Paloma!
The only thing left is the final trick, said the two sorceresses accompanying us. “You need a little natural oxytocin”. And they left the room. And for Marc to give me passionate kisses and little kisses on my nipples. What? Come on then, let’s get to work. And magic! The tides came alive, creating giant waves, 1, 2, 3, ring of fire!!! What is this?! I felt as if I were heading straight towards death, with no chance of turning back! I scream, I scream very loud, what an incredible pain!
That’s it.
The head is out.
“Do I push or wait for the next contraction?” I wait…. and she’s out now… I have her on top of me, incredulous, what a moment, lovely, gorgeous, you’re here! And she breathes, and cries, and poos… all squashed, marvellous, cone-headed… Her father got to see it all, everything, and at the moment his daughter came out the sea took hold of his being and shining tears travelled down his face.
They helped me lie down on the bed. What a miracle, little one… more poo, more crying when they moved her about. Ona Lua, our daughter. How incredible… Here she was, born at 14:43 on 25.01.2016. 3240g of daughter. 36cm head. With a little red mark from mum’s finger. Sorry, daughter, I needed it to have strength! She’s fine, calm…. Do you want the breast, daughter? She doesn’t. She wants to sleep.
They left us alone, for a while, the three of us. Three! A few magical moments full of love. And full of love was the pumpkin soup my husband prepared and fed me spoonful by spoonful a little later. Mmmmmm!!!!
All that was left was for the placenta to come out —what a chore to get up and push!— but it came out without any problems.
After the smoothie and a few more cuddles, gone 7, the 2 little witches left us as a family, to return the next morning… “But first you have to wee, otherwise we can’t leave with peace of mind!” And it was very hard. It seemed I’d lost the muscles needed to empty my bladder.
As a family, the three of us! 12h after arriving, after regaining her strength with a restful sleep, the little light began to look for the breast and latched on right away.
What a gift, the ten days of skin-to-skin we did… and every day afterwards always so close together… how lovely, breastfeeding!
Welcome Ona Lua, welcome family!
Oh! I said something about explaining technical details, right? As you can see they had no importance at all and I couldn’t have cared less how dilated I was and at what time. I only remember that the older little witch often listened to the baby’s heart and told me “She’s perfect!” It was the only thing I needed to know.
