The living room seemed to be getting smaller and smaller as I was pushing to get the placenta out while still holding and nursing my baby. We went into our bedroom where I knelt to push, and still nothing. With my next and ever weakening contraction, I squatted and pushed as hard as I could while still tenderly holding my baby. My energy was diminishing.
The midwife was gently tugging on the cord to help guide the placenta down and it snapped off inside of me! There was a sense of shock in the air. Since my new born and I were not connected any more, Jason took the baby and did the ceremonial “cutting” of the cord. This is when my midwife told me that we might have to go to the hospital. I asked her how much time I had to do this by myself and if she thought it was possible. She didn’t give me a time frame but said it was completely possible. Several more contractions and still nothing was happening. I got up and went over to my husband and asked him what we had. Our baby was a boy! It hadn’t even dawned on me to wonder until that very moment.
I gave them both a kiss and walked back into the bathroom, the only comfortable seat in the house was in there! One more big contraction, with both midwives doing all they could to guide the placenta out… and nothing. All I wanted in the whole world was to have my son back in my arms, lying in my cozy bed with my family. The midwife told me that we had better head to the hospital.
I remember going into the living room and asking Jason and my mom to stay home with the baby, and trying to make sure that everyone was alright. My adrenaline kicked in and I had a crazy surge of energy. I got up and wrapped a sarong around myself, grabbed my wallet and a jacket and asked my midwife if she wanted to follow me or ride with me in the truck. She said, “ Sommer, you are not driving yourself to the hospital!” In my mind, it would get me there and back to my family the fastest. Of course I realized that she was right.
We were on our way out the door when I felt another contraction coming on. I threw down my wallet and jacket and ripped off the sarong! I grabbed onto both sides of the doorjamb, squatted and conjured up the strength of all my mama ancestors who came before me! I pushed and pushed and pushed with all of my might! Finally, the placenta was birthed. Jason and my doula were cheering with joy.
I got my baby boy back in my arms and all three of us went to lay in our bed for the first time. Some would say the birth was complicated, some might even say traumatic, but to me it was perfect! I was in a space of complete trust; trust in my midwives, myself, my baby and of course the birthing process.
A few days later his name came to us… Mason Daniel Pueo Tarro, a.k.a. Waagoshens. My perfectly healthy baby boy and I didn’t leave the house for 28 sacred days.
Image Credit: Ame Skinner