Anthony's Birth as told by his Mother, Amy Biasucc

Anthony was just meant to be born at home.  His namesake, my late father, was born at home.  My due date, May 4th, was also my father¹s birthday. Conceived in a tipi in the Fingers Lakes region of NY last August, his arrival was an exclamation point at the end of a very natural and enjoyable pregnancy.

     I did not start out planning a homebirth; at least not out loud. However, for 2 years since my daughter Ayla¹s birth in a hospital and increased awareness about childbirth, I swore that if I had another child, he or she would be born at home.  Michael and I both knew that this baby was the last one for us.  Knowing that really made me examine every birthing option I had.  It made me connect to my body and my baby in a much deeper and more purposeful way than I did during my first pregnancy.  I was turning my hindsight forward, especially about where, how, and with whom I would give birth.   Not only was I studying the magic of natural homebirth, I was laboring over every scenario and cherishing every phase of my pregnancy with belly painting, prenatal yoga, belly casting, birth art, and a blessingway. I was consumed with creating a beautiful and powerful experience, one that would sustain me, and my exit out of my childbearing years.

     I joke that my labor started in the 6th or 7th month because I fiercely started nesting and paying homage to my pregnancy.  We built a giant pregnant snow-mama in late winter.   During the early spring, I could swear the nesting cardinals and catbirds in my yard were winking knowingly at me. In addition to cleaning and decluttering, I was drawn to having my hands in the soil.  Ayla, Mikey, and I spent our days turning over the earth, planting vegetables, herbs, and a butterfly garden.  Our fruit trees were beginning to bloom and I imagined what our yard would look like in early May, when our baby was due.  The signs and symbols of fertility surrounded me. 

      As my due date approached, I became more and more excited about going into labor.  Where would I be?  Would Ayla witness her brother¹s emergence as we hoped?  Would he come out on May 4th?  Well, the answer to the last question was no.  Little Anthony had different plans (I¹m sure my Dad¹s OK with this!)

      Fourteen days past my due date my son began his birth journey.  I was certainly getting anxious during those last two weeks.  It was the wisdom of my midwife Cara Muhlhahn, the calm support and empathy of my doula Kim Collins, and words of trusting my body from yoga instructor Gayle Lemke that kept me focused and smiling.  Of course, Mikey told me it was just plain silly to worry about anything.

     Michael and I were just sitting on the couch together about 10:30pm Saturday night, May 17th when I started having small but strong surges.   They were coming quickly but only lasting 15 seconds.  Cara suspected it was not the real thing yet, but real would be coming!  Just 20 minutes later, I felt (and heard, I swear) a massive ³POP² and figured my water broke but there was no water.  However, I was soon on my knees moaning to surges that were less than 2 minutes apart and sustained for 50 seconds or so.  Cara listened to my voice, moans, and reactions on the phone and then said she was on her way.  Mikey also called Kim who headed over immediately.  I found that Yoga's child¹s pose was the only position that felt comfortable for me. Very soon I told Mikey to fill the tub as I needed to be in water!   I was already in the tub when Kim arrived.  She lit my favorite candles and started the music I chose to birth to, a deep and slow Buddhist chant.  Kim and Mikey also hung up lots of birth art that my friends painted for me during my Blessingway.  Our bathroom was transformed into a beautiful birthing suite.

     All of a sudden I told Kim I was pushing!  My body just started and I totally went with it.  I felt no fear and so I just did whatever my body told me to do; and it felt really good.  I¹m not sure if I physically felt good, or the fact that I was at ease felt good. Perhaps a combination of both. I would have to say it was the first time I really let myself go and just be in each moment.  It all felt so perfect and my mind was absolutely sharp and focused.   I¹ve heard of the rest between surges, but didn¹t really know that it can be a deep peaceful rest.  I would come close to a sleep-like state between each surge; more restful and restorative than most massages I¹ve received. I wish more women knew about that part.  Our bodies absolutely give us the break and comfort needed to come down from the last surge and prepare for the next.  That was really amazing!

     By now I was squatting in the tub with my head resting on my arms on the side of the tub.  This forward squat was the only place I wanted to be.  I tried a few other positions, but would quickly drop back here.  It worked.  I felt wide open and supported as I rocked and swayed my hips from side to side.   Cara applied counter pressure along my back the whole time which felt great.  That was the only hands on help I received.   Kim was so encouraging and telling me my sounds were great and productive and she would give me sips of raspberry leaf tea, water, and anything else I needed.  I could¹ve sworn my vocalizing could wake the neighborhood but didn¹t care at all at the time.   It felt great to have these sounds come out of me from my soul or somewhere I¹ve never tapped into before. They really did make me almost float over each arriving surge.  Instead of tensing up and holding back , I used my voice to stay just ahead of each surge like a surfer on a wave.   I loved the wildness of moaning and feeling my body push, open, and then rest.   During each pregnancy, I spent some time with wolves at a preserve so that my unborn babies could hear and feel the howls of the packs.  It¹s a sound that has always penetrated deep into my body and I wanted my babies to have that primal sensory experience while cuddled in a dark, sacred place.   My uninhibited bellows during my son's birthing journey were perhaps a connection to the natural world which is so important to me.  And birthing in a dark, quiet place among trusted women heightened the sense that I was part of something ancient.  Our three dogs also seemed to be tuned into what was going on.  They lay quietly outside the bathroom watching with protective eyes.  (so I¹m told)

     All the relaxation techniques I learned in prenatal yoga really helped me to focus on each awaiting surge and get through each fairly easily.  The sensation of power and control were empowering. I remember saying out loud at some point I can do this!  It just came out. I think I realized at that point that I was in control and everything would go smoothly.

    When my son emerged I felt a total burst of euphoria and started laughing uncontrollably.  Cara placed him in my arms and on my chest and we both soaked in the warm water.  I was saying all kinds of things about how amazing and unbelievable and awesome and beautiful this experience was.  The oxytocin was surging through me at this point and I just couldn¹t stop laughing.   Orgasmic birth!  There was such delight in our cozy bathroom and Anthony was so perfect. After getting myself together I realized that hadn't  looked at my baby¹s face yet!  I gently lifted him and his big dark almond shaped eyes looked directly into mine in the dim candlelight.  Another surge of oxytocin pumped through me and we were bonded for life.  The whole thing, from those first surges to birth, lasted three hours.

   About fifteen peaceful minutes later, some surges began again.  I pushed during the third one and my placenta slipped out into the water.  No one needed to help or coach.  My body just did this while we chatted and ogled the new baby.  We had fun inspecting the placenta and Michael cut the umbilical cord a while after.  (Yes, I saved it all for print making and tree planting)
  
   What came next was also wonderful and unexpected.  Kim bathed me in the shower and wrapped me in warm towels straight out of the dryer.  Some clothes were picked out and waiting and as I was carefully led to my own bed, Cara draped me in a freshly heated sheet.  I really felt like a queen and the meaning of midwife, ³with woman,² really hit me.  I was being deeply nurtured by women, those who had this experience before me.  That connection means a lot to me and is another powerful example of natural history and primal relationships.

    The next few hours were exciting and celebratory as everyone gathered around our bed and watched Cara examine, weigh, swaddle and coddle the baby.  Kim fed me, kept the laundry going, and filmed these memorable moments.   It was 3am by now and my sister and her husband arrived as well as Michael¹s mom with a huge bouquet of flowers picked from her yard.   We called my Mom and exclaimed Happy Birthday!  She actually asked if I was sure I just gave birth!  You sound like you just came back from a shopping trip.  Aren¹t you tired?  Once we were settled in and everyone left, Michael quickly fell asleep next to me, Ayla was back in bed, dogs snuggled at our feet and Anthony and I drifted off to sleep while he nursed in my arms.

    I love to recall, retell, and relive my birth story. It¹s a process that I think is important to all mothers.  And Anthony is now strong, robust, and usually bubbling over with laughter.  He loves being worn in a sling and I joke that he¹s trying to get back in my belly!  Birthing my children were the two greatest moments of my life and I¹m so thankful to be their mother. Now, if only I can figure out how to make raising them a euphoric experience!