In Honor of Gib! - August 12, 2010
It was a long journey. It definitely started in late 2006. I wanted another child, another pregnancy, a larger family and another birth. My husband and I tried actively. I took my temprature, ate well, took prenatal vitamins. We tried everything. And month after month, it came. No baby, my body told me. No baby for you. Not now, not today, maybe not ever. After a year, I gave up. October 2007 came and I couldn’t bear it anymore, the wanting and not having. I threw in the cards and resigned myself to never having another child. Besides, Dan and I were lucky. We had been blessed wtih two beautiful daughters, Lily, who had passed by us so quickly she was like lightning and Iris, who was the most resilient and beautiful child - an ever present reminder of hope and optimism. And Chris, not my son, but my son all the same. These beautiful gifts were enough. For my birthday I got a big tattoo. An homage to my girls and an announcement of my acceptance. I had spent three sessions getting it and found it to be so therapeutic. By the time it was healed, so was I. It would be alright, not having more kids. I am still whole and I can pour all of my love into those around me. Dan and I decided to take a vacation to Tulum to celebrate our anniversary. It was amazing and gorgeous, primitive and beautiful, delicious and delightful. Sleeping in hut on the beach and listening to the surf pound all night, waking up because the sun would not let us sleep anymore, climbing on the rocks, swimming with the fish, shopping in the little pueblo, eating all the local food, experiencing a mayan sweat lodge and learning spanish. I was so liberated on that trip, so in awe of the world and it’s wonders. When Dan and I went to get our massages, the lovely woman told us, “Unfortunately, we don’t have two massage therapists right now, but I would be happy to offer one of you to the Mayan Shaman Exeperience….it comes with a massage and a little more.”. I told Dan he should have the regular massage, as he had never had a professional massage before and I went with the Shaman. He was a nice enough man, but with his limited English and my limited Spanish, we did not communicate much. It was basically a massage…with a little more: fire, herbs, chanting and then he asked me to lie on my back and I experienced something I had never heard of before, Mayan Abdominal Massage. It was amazing, agressive, but amazing. When he was finished he told me, “This is much better.” indicating my abdomen, “you conceive….now, it’s better”. Or something very close to that. In my surprise, I replayed everything I had said to him trying to remember when I had told him about our attempt to have more children, but no, i had not mentioned it to him. I met my husband back on the beach and told him my story. We packed some water and went for what would turn out to be about a five hour hike. Days later, sated with the sun, food, libations and traditional Mayan customs we boarded a plane to come home. Two weeks later a pregnancy test came back positive. JOY!!! EXALTATION!!!! I was astounded! Whether coincidence or magic or Mayan tradition or simply the relaxing vacation….something had worked. We called him Apocalypto - in honor of his Mayan conception. And the pregnancy was good. I continued to work until I was too tired to do so any more. It was fun, being pregnant and attending on pregnant women, my whole life was pregnancy and birth and it was a joy to be so deeply immersed in something I am so passionate about. We decided to birth at an out of hospital birthing center about 15 minutes away from our home. My care was lovely and easy. On August 11, I awoke early. My husband had just left for work and my daughter and i were going to spend the day at home. I could remember waking up several times in the early morning hours with cramps, but I had been able to sleep through them. Sleep was no longer an option - these were definitely keeping me awake. I called my husband and told him I would like him to come home. My Mom, My sister, My doulas - Robyn, Trish and Anika, My midwife and then I quietly told my daughter I thought we would be meeting her brother today. We gathered up our things together, Iris and I working together. I braided my hair. Daddy came home and we were doing great. I told him there was no rush. It was still early and I was fine - about ten minutes later I wanted to go. “Now,” I said. We made the drive, which didn’t take long. We walked into what would be the room where Gib was born and started to do real work. The pain was hard, but I knew it was good. My midwife and her assistant were a constant source of calm. We started working on the birth ball which felt better. I had my silk sarong from our vacation in Tulum on and for some reason it brought me back to the place. I could close my eyes and see the ancient Mayan temples set up into the cliffs, the smiling face of the man that gave me my coffee every morning before Dan awoke - I would sit on the beach and drink coffee, the smells of the market, the feel of the woven tapestry I had wanted to buy, but couldn’t afford, the warmth of the sun and the coolness of the salty water and more than all of it - the wind, cool and warm at the same time. It afforded me a resting place inside myself. At some point later, everyone arrived. The joy at hearing my nephews and my daughter playing, having my mother move about the room, hearing my sister wring out a rag and laugh and my friends who served as my doulas - I could not have lived without the sounds of their voices or the touch of their hands. The air rang with joy and my labor sang with it. I moved to the bath because the pain was becoming difficult and the midwife thought it would help. Oh, to be transformed. To be given no gravity. To fly, to float, to let my labor dance in the water. What a joy and release to have found water in that moment. I could hear Billie Holiday in the background singing Crazy He Calls me and I tried to sing with her, to focus on the sound of her voice, where I have always found solace, but it came and went as my sweet baby moved down. I needed to use the restroom, so I got out of the tub. Once my foot hit the ground, all I wanted to do was get back in. Run, run from this terra labor and get back to my aquatic world. Before I could get back in, I agreed to a check. I don’t remember how dilated I was or if I was fully effaced or how low he was…all I remember is my water breaking. It felt like a tidal wave. Warm water rushing everywhere. I could feel his head turning inside of me and I wanted back, back in the tub, back to the safety and warmth of my water cocoon. Things semed more difficult from here on, but my midwife and all my attendants were there - their voices and hands mingling into one voice, one hand - guiding me toward my purpose. Here, I see dan’s face and Iris, is she telling me to howl? Is that my mom’s voice telling me, “shhhhh, now”? My sister saying I am doing it, I am doing great. I hear the midwife say slower. I see her assistant moving around….it is dark, like a womb. How like my son I am right now and my daughters before him. How helpless and afraid. Full of unknowable wisdom and unspeakable truth, but small, tiny, a little light in the gulf of the world, fighting for this moment and terrified of it at the same time. Slow, slow, slow….the rhythym beats over me. It seems hours and only a few moments have passed. Beyond endurance, beyond fear, beyond knowing and then I hear it….the wail, so far away and yet everywhere. It is not loud, but it is strong and forceful, fearful and full of joy and with that sound, that I now know was me, my son is born into his fathers hands. The triumphant noise of all my family and friends. The shock of how big he is. The glory of his face. And the joy, the unending joy of seeing my daughter there, sharing this with me. We are all one now. In this moment, nothing can break me from these people that I love. I will forever be in debt to them for bearing witness, for the warmth of their thoughts and words and for all their unwavering support - even if they didn’t understand. After a while, everyone left and it was just the three of us with the midwives, my daughter went home to wait for us with the rest of my family. And something unexpected happened…..a bath. It seems such a simple thing, but I can’t tell you how these small things change everything. They made a bath for me…it was low and had warm water and lots of herbs for healing. They helped me up and gently put me back into the tub, my body ached for this warmth. Then, they gave me my son and so it was, that among candles and beautiful music that I was given this gift…to bathe my son, to hold him in warm water, to let him suckle in the place where he had been born. There was no rush. No one had told me if we had past our time to leave. Just quiet and blissful and full of honor. After that, Gib was wrapped up and given to his father who took his turn loving him, learning his face. They drained the tub and then refilled it with warm water. She was quiet, but not so quiet that i didn’t know she was there. And then it happened. Something that had not happened since I was young. She bathed me. Scrubbing my back, my neck, my hands, my face. She washed me with such care and love…..I was a child again, born fresh after a labor full of love. Afterwards, we were at home. Sleeping in our bed, listening to our son breathe, hearing the dog do extra patrols of the house, my daughter sleeping. All of us together
Gibson's birth story.
