Cameron Davis - July 15, 2000

{Written July 23, 2000}

Cameron was born safely--though not *easily*--at HOME, and we're both doing well! I had pre-labor for days, early labor for about 9 hours (I slept a few hours through some of it) and then the "real" stuff hit hard about 4 AM. I had been up for about an hour, lighting candles in the LR and putting the stereo on softly (anyone ever labor to Third Day??), and then calling my mother and another prayer support person to let them know it was really, truly time. Right before I started having to vocalize through the contractions (meaning they were starting to hurt <G>), my almost-3-yod Breanna decided to get up and join me. :-/ I started some coffee for Troy and went in to "warn" him I'd be waking him up soon.

"Dear! Your coffee's ready!!" I sat on the side of bed and smiled at him as he fumbled at his watch and wondered at the time. (This, after his last comment before bedtime, "Wake me up!") "Now WHY would I be making you coffee at 4 in the morning, hmm??" He got up, moved one of the other children which had migrated to our bed earlier (Ian--8 yos--and he never went back to sleep either!), and started preparing the bedroom and bathroom floors (drop cloths and chux pads) while I returned to pacing the living room and hall. He did attempt to put Breanna back to sleep, but--no go. We just had to work around her.

I felt I was dilating fast at first. Baby's head was low in the pelvis but posterior, causing low-back pain which was increasingly hard to work with ... in 7 labors it was the first time I'd ever had back labor. Later on it became agony! I had a pushing urge for quite a while, off and on, though an anterior lip of the cervix remained. I kept waiting ... and checking ... and waiting ... for it to go back on its own ... the last couple of hours of labor were SO hard b/c I just couldn't surrender ... partly the issues from Duncan's birth (though I was never really afraid of something going seriously wrong w/ this one, I felt it wasn't going to be easy and was really dreading the pain, etc.) and partly from being out of shape physically, etc. Looking back, I really don't think it *had* to be that difficult. I was really falling apart during the last hour ... yelling at God at the top of my lungs ... Troy was wonderful, so tender and patient even during this part.

He sent all the kids over to the neighbor (Chuck) at about 6:30 AM or so ... at about 6 he had awakened Cyndi, across the street, and she went after more coffee for the two of them. Just before this, he and I both were in tears over a powerful spiritual revelation the Lord had given him about labor in general, and what the Lord seeks to accomplish in a woman during birth ... stripping me bare and then rebuilding me ... later I was to realize that Troy meant this in the sense of renewal, but from my perspective it meant bringing me to the end of myself, breaking my will ... all of my struggles during the past year seemed to be about this. After he had shared this, there was a short lull in my labor--things easing up a bit when Cyndi first got there--then a very high "wave" hit and labor was most intense from there to the end.

I need to note that he had also prayed against the panic which had occasionally assailed me and seemed to be worst when I was in the tub. Our first two homebirths had taken place in the bedroom, but Duncan was born in the bathroom next to the tub, and it was there, in the very early morning light, that the fears and weird thoughts hit worst. Troy prayed to "sanctify the place" and it was so comforting to me.

Contractions were often double-peaked, at least one triple-peaked--long and unrelenting. One must have been over three minutes long. I paced the bedroom and moaned, no longer daring to go to the living room, which wasn't "prepared" for the birth. I couldn't even bear to stand still long enough for Troy to rub my back. He could only stand and watch. In between contractions I fiddled with my tape player, trying to find the best music among the tapes I'd pre-chosen, even "dancing" a bit to the music. I went from Michele Tumes to Ben Tankard (black gospel jazz) to MorningStar praise and worship. It helped, but still I struggled physically and spiritually ... knowing that at some point I would have to just let go, INTO the pain, trusting the Lord because there really was no other alternative. Who else do I have besides You, O Lord? This was the way He had chosen for us to walk, and though I knew He was leading us through it and would bring me to a safe delivery, the way was proving oh, so hard. Days later, after asking Him WHY several times during labor, I am realizing that a painfree, easy labor and birth do not always accomplish His purposes. I am very stubborn in my heart of hearts. It takes a lot to bring me to the end of myself.

And so it did. Three or four contractions in a row I could not even attempt to work *with* what was taking place in my body. I tensed everything, clutching the doorway between bedroom and bath, howling at the top of my lungs. Oh, God! Are You there? are You hearing me?? Oh, my God!! In between I was dimly aware of the commotion in the rest of the house as the kids ran in after shoes, preparing to leave for the flea market (Chuck would work it this Saturday, the older boys would accompany them, and Cyndi was going to take the others to drive them up there). Troy ran back and forth between me and them, trying to help them get going. While he was outside helping buckle everyone in the van, I went back in desperation to the tub and turned on the shower (hot water) full blast, seeking relief from the fire across the back of my hips. The crisis point had come--I knew I had to just do it--I dropped into a squat in the bottom of the tub and reached in to hold back that cervical lip myself while pushing during the next contraction ... and it worked. Baby's head dropped immediately into the birth canal. The bag of waters bulged far below his head and it took me a few tries to break it (still don't really know why I felt I should do that) ... the water which ran across the bottom of the tub was lightly meconium stained. I felt an urgency to get the baby out and wondered if I was going to have to catch the baby myself.

The pressure ... OH the pressure ... when I could breathe (after the contraction) I yelled for Troy. He ran back to hear me yelling, "If you want to catch your baby you better get in here!!!" He laughed lightly, "I'd LOVE to catch my baby!" and pulled back the shower curtain and turned off the water.

The head crowned and then "paused," and I kept switching positions to make sure the shoulder wasn't stuck, etc. I was also dealing with a last bit of panic at the incredible pressure from the head and feeling like I just could NOT push any more ... I know at this point I went from yelling to screaming. I still don't remember the final push. (Troy says I was standing.) Truly the Lord was the deliverer of this baby!! Finally the pressure was gone, and Troy was crying with gratitude and praise, and I'm going, "Is it over? Is it really over???"

I turned around and sat down in the bottom of the tub. Troy handed me the baby and I didn't even look at sex at first. The baby's mouth was open and he wasn't moving--but neither of us panicked. (I had prayed, while pushing, "Lord, I know You haven't brought us this far to lose this one again ....") Troy suctioned his nose and mouth, and I talked to him softly, and then he started to gurgle and then cry ... oh, WHAT a beautiful sound!!!!!! I crooned over him while Troy cried and continued praising God. He mentioned his name--Cameron Davis--and I said, "He's a boy??" and looked for the first time. And what a beautiful boy, too!

Troy was making phone calls before the placenta even delivered (which was in my estimation about five minutes?), but I was as anxious as he to start letting people know Cameron had arrived. The placenta came out with no problems ... and was huge! I bled a bit at first but as soon as Cameron latched on, that quickly stopped. Troy came back from one phone call to find me sitting there nursing him, and was overcome again with gratitude.

A side note: Cameron was born before Cyndi and Chuck had arrived at the flea market, which is ten to fifteen minutes away!

I was sore and a little dizzy at first, but that eased quickly. I could tell I had torn a bit, but only on the surface (another praise!), and later I actually felt less traumatized than by the two previous births. I have a lingering soreness (4 1/2 days later) in my tailbone and lower back. Cameron is doing marvelously--my milk came in at 48 hours, which made him a happy baby, but when he cries it is a high, stressed wail. I can't help but wonder whether it was my own grief and struggles while I carried him which has caused that. :-(

It was hard--but so worth it--and I'm so glad we didn't wind up choosing a hospital birth this time. I know I would have begged for an epidural, because of the pain, and then needed all sorts of interventions to get Cameron out. There *is* a place for these things--I will not deny that--but would it have been as healing for Troy and the rest of the family? (Erin at getting to meet Cameron: "You didn't have to go to the hospital! And we got to KEEP him, Mom!") I do not regret going through a harder labor to learn some of the things the Lord had for me. If nothing else, I was humbled by this labor ... there was certainly nothing in it for me to boast of, in my own flesh and strength. The Lord just gently kept leading me on until I was at the end of myself and ready to walk through the fire to receive the reward.

And now--I am enjoying just getting to hold him and snuggle--after everything we went through last time!

Final stats: Cameron Davis McNear, 11 lbs. 4 oz., 22 1/2" long; head circ: 15", chest 16". Born at 8 AM on July 15, 2000. HALLELUJAH!! Soli Deo Gloria!!!

Alistair's Story | Ian's Story | Erin's Story | Ross' Story | Breanna's Story
Duncan's Story | Cameron's Story | Corrie's Story | Meeghan's Story