By November 9th, 2019 it felt like I had been pregnant for years. Most of the day I felt fairly normal, until around 4:30 in the afternoon I had to use the bathroom and realized that I couldn’t stop peeing. Of course, it wasn’t all pee. I had begun to leak water. However, I honestly wasn’t too sure. So, when I thought I had mostly stopped having the longest pee ever in history, I got up and went out to the kitchen. Suddenly, there was a small puddle of water beneath me. That seemed to confirm it. My husband was there and I nearly broke into a fit of giggles about how I peed on the floor. “Your water broke?” he asked nonchalantly. I admitted it had. We hugged each other and laughed a little nervously. It wasn’t long before I noticed some serious cramping.
My husband decided to take my youngest to the store and pick up a few things I might want. I asked my oldest child to stay home with me in case I needed help with anything. She was happy to stay. She entertained me for a while as the contractions grew in strength, singing songs she had made up herself. We hung out in bathroom where I would sit on the toilet for a bit and then stand up to get through a contraction. I felt like I needed to lean over the sink and make my lower half as weightless as possible. At some point my daughter had disappeared and my husband returned, telling me about the dinner he was going to make. The room began to look different. I couldn’t seem to voice the words in my head. I waved him away as politely as I could. He would still check on me occasionally and rub my back a little before going back to cooking and making sure our 2 year old was well occupied. I just needed the reassurance that my son wouldn’t be there dangling off of me.
I quickly set up my waterproof sheet on the floor next to our bed, which is also on the floor, and put a few towels on top of it. I stacked some pillows on the mattress to lean forward onto. After a few more attempts to get through contractions while standing, I finally retreated downward onto my self-designated birthing spot. Now I was fully in it.
I began moaning and doing my best to keep the sound flowing, as it seemed to help me stay afloat. With my knees on the floor and my arms gripping the pillows tightly in front of me, my body was in control. I attempted to quiet my mind and began rocking back and forth now, as opposed to side to side like I’d done while standing. I kept thinking about how I should try to perceive the sensations as interesting instead of painful. Some of the time, I found I was able to flow through part of a contraction as though I were simply witnessing an intense feeling, observing a wild ride that my body was on. Though, much of the time, I was experiencing it as the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, only comparable to the birth of my son.
I tried not to let my sounds become long, loud OWs and keep them OHs or, even better, AHs. I felt like the AH sound was best for opening myself up and allowing the safe passage of my child.
From that point on there were no more breaks. A series of contractions created a tidal wave effect. I tried to be loud enough to keep from being swallowed up in it. I was grasping my husband's hand that felt so nice and alive and steadfast compared to the pillows that were apathetically rocking away with me. Then my son was there. He approached with concern. My husband scooped him up and they settled in next to me.
I was beginning to feel like some gentle pushing would make me feel better. Either that or I was desperate to get the labor over with. I felt my baby descending and offered an encouraging, "come on, baby." I pushed a small amount more and heard my bones crack inside. Suddenly, I felt as though I were drowning. I couldn't breathe right or make the sound flow. My heart fluttered. Then my baby came through, rather quickly, onto the soft towels beneath me.
She cried out instantly as my husband moved her up toward me. Then he looked at the clock and said, "it's 7:07." I was shocked at the reminder of time. Labor had lasted only 2 1/2 hours.
My son wimpered a bit. I let him know I was OK as I flipped over and brought our baby up to nurse. She latched on almost immediately. My son looked overjoyed as we explained "baby-sister" to him. Two words he seemed to know well. Then my older daughter arrived and we all gathered in awe around our newest family member. This little one we named Mika.
Do you want more love and intimacy?
“I am so honored to be part of the Sex After Baby class experience! I feel so inspired from our time together…I feel BEAUTIFUL…I feel more alive and joyful, and more clear on how to dissolve blocks to my own pleasure, heal emotional wounds around sexuality, and gift myself greater respect, beauty, and joy in place of these fading obstacles. I deeply appreciate the attentiveness and fullness of presence that Debra brings to every class as she guides us into authentic & fulfilling connection with our sexuality, ourselves, and our partners. She is lighting the way to healing for mothers and sexuality, and for partners craving intimate connection that INTEGRATES their identities as new parents. This experience has been so expansive and life-changing for me, and I am thrilled by the increasing depths of my abilities to give and receive pleasure in ALL areas of my life. This is way beyond the bedroom, folks!”
Nena Complo Sex After Baby Alumnus
“This book is a must-read!! Debra Pascali-Bonaro has created a book that will be a life changer and game-changer for all new parents. With great love, science, and experience, Debra jumps inside the most challenging parenting problems and presents easily workable solutions. Yes! You can not only have a great sex life, but a better sex life than ever before in your marriage, and still be a wonderful parent!”
Founder and CEO of Mama Gena’s School of Womanly Arts
Author of the New York Times bestseller, “Pussy: A Reclamation”